This is response to a writing prompt provided by WordPress

PROMPT ~ Fill in the blank
Three people walk into a bar . . .THE PANOPLY OF FOOLS


by John Yeo

  It was a rather special afternoon at the village drama society, all the members were holding their breath in anticipation. Today was casting day for a performance at the local theatre, rumour had it that some celebrity guests would be attending the auditions. The play we would be performing was to be William Shakespeare’s, ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream,’ I had reluctantly joined the West Chester drama society at the behest of my dear wife Penelope, who is a regular performer. This was to be a first, I have never acted in my life before and I was feeling incredibly nervous about the prospect. I gingerly made myself known to the other members of the group as we entered, The Leering Donkey, a local pub. 

      ‘Hello everyone, I’m Norman, nice to meet you all.’

There were several nods and smiles of welcome and approval from the assembled members of the drama group.

I was a bit unnerved when a tall young man came bustling up and said;  ‘Hi and welcome I’m Lawrence. Wow! You will be perfect for the role of Nick. Penelope darling! Well done; your husband will be perfect for the role I have in mind.’

  ‘Nick?’ I asked, ’I don’t remember a character by the name of Nick in Midsummer Night’s Dream. I read the play last night at home!’

   Lawrence smiled and said, ’Don’t worry Norman, the character you have been selected for has an important role to play! I think you will be perfect for the role of Nick Bottom. A very sought after role indeed!’

  ’BOTTOM!’ I exclaimed: ‘You mean the character with an Asses head. The fool?’

  ’Norman this is not just any old fool you will be playing here! Bottom is a very important fool. Out of all the panoply of Shakespeare’s fools Bottom is the finest. I think this role could be the start of a well-revered career: Bottom was one of the leading performers in the Mechanicals. I think you will be perfect for this part. Am I not right Penelope darling?’ 

  ‘Are you mad? I refuse to get involved with this! Anyway! Who do you think you are calling darling? That’s my wife you are addressing.’ I said, becoming quite annoyed by the sly inferences of this toffee-nosed twit.

    ’Just a theatrical term lovey. It’s a great pity; Won’t you change your mind? I think you would be perfect for the role; I’m sure you would look exactly right playing the character with an asses head.’

  ’Clear off!’ I said walking out of the pub.
 One month later Lawrence and my wife Penelope had set up home together. I swear if I ever wake up from this horrible dream, I will get my revenge.
 Wait until he finds out that Penelope is part Mexican and suffers from Montezuma’s revenge whenever there is a certain variety of food on the table.’

   © Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved



This is a response to a prompt provided by WordPress

PROMPT ~ The little things
Describe a little thing — one of the things you love that defines your world but is often overlooked.


  It’s the early morning slice of toast that springs to mind first, when I consider the little things that would certainly be overlooked in any analysis of my early morning world. I’m always awake early and I make my way to our kitchen to prepare the early morning tea for both of us. I open the fridge door and select a slice of bread, preferably Margaret’s home-baked, although a slice of supermarket sunflower and pumpkin bread is an acceptable alternative.

I place the bread in the toaster, which is set for a light toasting cycle, meanwhile, I switch the kettle on, in preparation to make the tea.

  My slice of toast pops up in the toaster and I remove it and place it onto a small side plate. I liberally coat the bread with olive spread, which immediately begins to melt into the hot bread. Then I add a small amount of marmite; yes! Marmite, the spread which apparently is universally loved or hated by everyone. The category I fall into is obvious. I then cut the slice of bread into four squares and I pop one piece into my mouth immediately. I never chew the bread, I allow it to soften and literally melt into my mouth. I savour the flavour of the strong taste of marmite mingling with the taste of the spread and the flour that makes up the bread. The homemade flour is exceptionally tasty. In the meantime I prepare the tea, at the same time slowly inserting a second square of heavenly marmite-flavoured toast into my mouth. When this has been successfully savoured and consumed I repeat the process until I’ve consumed my morning slice of paradise. 

  The hardest thing is to resist placing a second slice in the toaster and repeating the process all over again.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved


FRIDAY 15th MARCH 2021

This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..



by John Yeo

  It was a special day of celebration for the Beelzebubs. Horatio, the eldest son in the Beelzebub family had reached his first century and the family were keen to raise hell.

  ‘Father! We must invite everyone in our social circle.’

   The head of the family flicked his tail across the table and responded. ‘Of course son the word will be spread through all the neighbouring covens, dens and magic circles at once.’

    Messengers were dispatched, the arrangements were finalised and preparations were soon completed.

  The night arrived, the guests flew and slithered towards the venue and the party was soon underway. 

   Devils, witches, wizards, and goblins were soon rocking the night away. A banquet was served of deviled kidney stew, sour cream sauce and blood red wine, mingled together in a heady brew keeping the evil frivolity under way. Horatio danced with an attractive witch with a head full of live snakes hissing to the beat of the music. It was difficult to find any room to spare as the monsters were at play. Everyone was having a terribly good time celebrating this special birthday when something occurred to break the spell. There was a loud bong, when a clang of the doorbell-gong announced a late arrival. A phantom butler answered the door, then jumped back in horror and fright.

  There in a shining white clerical collar stood a ghastly frightful nightmarish sight, a priest stood smiling broadly.

     ‘Good evening to you; can I speak to the person who is responsible for this party please?’

  The party-host, looked hard, scrutinised the interloper closely.

     ‘Who are you? Can I see your invitation card? This is a private haunting party.’

The priest, put his hands up in horror and said,

    ‘I’m not here to party. I’m here to complain. Would you kindly keep the noise down, the noise in the graveyard is waking the dead.’

   It was then the turn of the host to smile as he motioned the priest to enter.

  ‘Here is a special invitation card, stay with us for a while as we wait for our friends from the graveyard. Stay and enjoy the party.’

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.



This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..


image courtesy of Aero Spacelines


by John Yeo

  Living on the Space Station is out of this world. Life is lived at a different pace, when one is attempting to colonise outer Space. Captain Mark, an aeronautical engineer was in sole command of the infrastructure here. Dirk, Kirk and Birk were the rest of the crew when a huge rogue asteroid hove into view. This asteroid suddenly altered it’s course leading to an unavoidable collision. Part of the station-shell got destroyed, leaving Captain Mark to make an instant decision. Kirk and Birk would have to return to Earth to arrange for the transfer of some heavy spares to be transported in a Pregnant Guppy. Kirk would handle the ordering of the spare parts and Birk would handle the Pregnant Guppy. When all the details had been completed Kirk met up with Birk who handed him a plastic bag with a rather large goldfish swimming in it.

Image courtesy of

 ‘What’s this?’ Kirk asked Birk, grinning all over his face.

  ‘Oh! just an extra pregnant guppy to take with us to the Space station. The  important  one is on the launchpad  waiting for us to lift off.

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved




by John Yeo

The relationship was a triangle

When the tycoon finally died.

Lawyers, his wife, and his secretary

Were involved in an ongoing wrangle

Eventually the money was spent

There was nothing left to untangle.

(33 WORDS)



This is a response to a Flash Fiction prompt from ‘Putting My Feet In the Dirt’, Writing Prompts hosted by ‘M’.
Which can be found by following the link below..


by John Yeo

Edgar was a reliable butler, an incredibly experienced man 

who had served the family for years.

Sir Richard was extolling his manservant’s virtues in his gentlemen’s club.

   ‘We are lucky to have Edgar working for us, he is the sole of discretion, full of natural courtesy that he’s developed over the years.’

    Sir Richard was an ex guards officer who normally would never leave himself open to criticism. That is the measure of the inbuilt respect the family had for their family retainer.

George Posonby-Smythe was a mischievous member of the club and chided Sir Richard.

     ‘Your courteous butler is invisible to your family and your guests. Always in the background; sadly a man like him has no charisma. He’s a shadow, a robotic nonentity.’

 This was greeted with laughter from all those present.

   Then another member, Charles Peace, an industrialist, chipped in and related a story that shattered the myth.

  ‘Not all butlers and senior members of top people’s staff are the sole of discretion. I have heard of a certain club that caters for some very charismatic transvestites and crossdressers. Now that requires an over abundance of charisma. What your butler does on his time off  should be of no concern to anyone.’

 Sir Richard went red with suppressed anger and left the club in a huff.  

 Oddly, Edgar courteously left his employment with Sir Richard’s household shortly after and became a famous charismatic pantomime dame.

© Written by John Yeo 


WEDNESDAY 3rd JUNE 2020 ~ 

I thought I would resurrect an old post of mine from five years ago.


by John Yeo

 The garden was a mess, there had been an incredible North wind overnight that savagely blew everything to bits. I leaned on my spade and surveyed the damage, branches and leaves had been ripped from our trees and were lying everywhere.

  Then out of nowhere a tiny voice whispered ‘Please don’t tread on me!’

Shaken, as I knew I was totally alone, I wheeled around in surprise.

  ‘I’m down here! Next to your incredibly large foot.’

I looked down to find there was nothing there except Dandelions, Daisies and Grass.

   ‘I can’t see you! If you are real and not a figment of my imagination, make yourself visible!’ I declared.

At this point I seriously doubted my sanity.

  ‘Look again! I am the good looking one with the purest white petals and a yellow heart of gold’

Stunned, I was now certain madness loomed and I was headed for hospital, I made to get away from there fast.

   ‘No! Don’t go please, I would love to talk to you about many things. I have been watching you very closely. Why do you work so hard, and worry so much?’

I thought, Why should I be worried about one small insignificant voice claiming to be a natural being.

  ‘What do you mean by petals and a yellow heart? Do you mean to say you are a common Daisy? If so, I can’t tell one of you from another, you all look the same to me!’

The tiny Daisies voice reflected a note of annoyance as it politely stated.

  ‘Less of the common, Big-Feet. We have a unique way            of survival that excludes individuality and we are rooted here as one. Funny though, I can never differentiate the different clodhoppers that stomp around and squash our leaves and petals!’

   ‘Listen Daisy, if you actually are a talking flower how did you acquire the language I use, and how do you manage to express yourself? You ask me why I work so hard, I have to say the garden would quickly go to rack and ruin if I stood rooted to the spot like a daisy!’

  ‘My language skills are a result of much study of your people’s thought patterns and I am the result of much floral cross-breeding. We have very friendly relations with your newborn babies and we mingle our minds with them and learn your language as they learn language.’

  ‘That’s amazing!’ I shouted to the array of daisies around my feet,

I was desperately trying to identify which of the numerous daisies was actually responsible for the conversation. I wanted to dig it up and put it in a pot to take indoors and perhaps have many deep inter-species conversations.

 Then I heard a sound that was suspiciously like a giggle coming from the vicinity of my neighbours fence. Then a chuckle was clearly evident leading to an embarrassing roar of laughter, that led to enormous fits of laughter. My face became bright red as I realised the implication of these odious sounds.

 Realisation dawned as I remembered my neighbour was a ventriloquist and very skilled at throwing his voice.

Copyright © Written by John Yeo  ~ All rights reserved


wp-1590075316468.jpgTHURSDAY 21st MAY 2020


by John Yeo

  Today I intend to write about Beans. Yes, common Runner Beans. Part of most people’s childhood in the west is an introduction to the English fairy tale, ‘Jack and the Beanstalk.’

Where the indomitable Jack sold the family cow for a handful of beans that later grew into a giant beanstalk. Later after a few, ‘Fee-fi-fo-fum, I smell the blood of an Englishman,’ yells, the giant dies and Jack and his Mum live happily ever after feasting off the proceeds of the hen that lays golden eggs.


   We planted our Runner beans on the allotment yesterday. 

   I constructed the above wigwam from a bundle of 10 new 

6 foot bamboo canes for the beans to climb. Margaret has volunteered to climb this particular beanstalk to harvest the freshest tastiest beans at the top on the frame. If she does encounter a giant, I will be at the bottom with a pair of pruning shears.


   It won’t be long before we are enjoying fresh new potatoes with mint and gently steamed fresh beans. Runner beans are a great source of fibre, which not only plays the lead role in making sure our digestive system is running at its best, but has also been shown to help prevent weight gain, some cancers, heart disease and diabetes.

  We also have some french bush bean seeds in rows alongside the mighty runners. These will certainly not be high enough to harbour any giants or hens laying golden eggs.

I looked up the phrase ‘Full of Beans’ and this is what I came up with.
  Originally, this phrase was known as “Full of Prunes” and then “prunes” was replaced with “beans”. The phrase originated in Europe in the 14th century when horses were fed with beans grown solely for fodder. After feeding the horse, the owners often noticed that the horses became quite energetic and lively. Hence the phrase originated to refer to this state of liveliness.’

  The beans in Jack and the Beanstalk are believed to be fava beans and they have a magical history all their own. With evidence of their incorporation into diets dating back to at least 6000 BC, fava beans are one of the oldest cultivated plants. Their hardiness and ability to endure cold climates contributed to their endurance as a crop. It also earned the beans magical status in Sicily, where they were considered more than merely food.


   One of the things I notice occurring frequently on the social media areas of public entertainment is the propensity of people who tend to jump on the bandwagon. Since I’ve begun to cultivate my blog and publish on a more frequent basis, I’ve had several emails offering me work. I have to say I usually explore these offers but I have never been guilty of taking the bait, particularly when the person refers to the mysterious ‘us,’ i.e. ‘Would you like to write for us?’ When tackled about who these unidentified ‘us’ are, the reply is usually a woolly, ‘some very big people.’ … 

 I offer this advice to all prospective grow your own bean experts.

‘Beans and some other legumes, such as peas and lentils, have a reputation for causing gas. Beans contain high amounts of a complex sugar called raffinose, which the body has trouble breaking down. Beans are also rich in fiber, and a high intake of fiber can increase gassiness.’

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved.



Sunday Photo Prompt 25/02/2019

The challenge is to write a story using 200 words or less based, on the photo prompt.

Photo Courtesy of Susan Spaulding


by John Yeo

Matilda was a gifted child, always at the top of her class, with many other talents, she was well thought of in her community. Matilda was a chorister in the church choir, always singing her heart out and bringing tears to the eyes of everyone who heard her. She got straight A’s in her exams and she was looking forward immensely to going to university, to study Creative Writing.
Her sixth form friends had a nickname for her, Matilda was known as little Goody Two Shoes.
Four years later there was a huge shock to everyone who knew her when Matilda’s photograph was splashed across the front pages of the daily newspapers. Everyone was shocked to hear that Matilda was the brains behind a series of financial insurance scams.
In her defence, Matilda stated she had started to experiment to research a book she intended to write, and the whole thing just got out of hand. The Judge showed no mercy as he ordered her ill-gotten gains be seized and sent her to jail.
Matilda served two years in prison and became incredibly wealthy from the sales of a series of books based on her experiences.

(196 WORDS)

© Written by John Yeo all rights reserved.

Early April Yeti

Welcome to What Pegman Saw, a 150-word weekly writing prompt inspired by the photos found on Google Maps. 

Mount Everest

Mount Everest base camp, Nepal | mkslalove Google Maps


by John Yeo

’The thing is; Bill: There are too many people here. This base camp is becoming overcrowded. Someone was wandering around in the dark outside our tent last night. I woke and went outside, but all I could see was a large shadow heading towards the mess tent.’

Bill looked astonished at this revelation.

Fortescue continued. ‘During supper some time ago Sherpa was telling us the locals have a legend about a saucer in the sky that landed here for some days and then took off. Rumour has it one of the aliens stayed behind. They have seen him on the mountain and they call him Yeti. Professor Rawlings believes there is a monster on the prowl. He found a large pile of excreta on the foothill, roughly covered with snow. Apparently, he’s sent a sample off to the lab for analysis.’

‘Really, Forty is it April 1st. already?’

© Written by John Yeo ~ All rights reserved