After the past several weeks of feverish work and stress-filled wrangling to get Book 13 safely into the retailers’ systems, my brain is completely empty. Usually there are a few screwball thoughts floating around in there, but this week? Nada. Not even the sound of crickets.
(Although the sound of crickets would be worrisome, considering that I recently read a news article about a woman who had a cockroach take up residence inside her ear, BLEAH!)
Anyway, I had nothing but the whistle of wind between my ears, so I consulted a site that offered random writing prompts. And I got this: Write a post about anything you’d like, but be sure to include this sentence somewhere in the final paragraph: “He tried to hit me with a forklift!”
Something about that prompt burrowed into my brain like a… ech, never mind.
I know randomness was the whole point of the exercise, but nevertheless my mind rebelled. Why hit someone with a forklift when there are so many more entertaining weapons? A dead fish, for example. A cauliflower. A rainbow-coloured My Little Pony riding crop with marabou feathers on its… oh, wait. Is that a little too creepily specific?
Moving right along…
How could I write a post about “anything I like” and somehow include a forklift? I like music and ice cream and rare steaks and art and cold beer and gardens and a host of other things. Excavators are fun. Ditto highway tractors. But forklifts? Meh.
I considered spinning some flash-fiction: Who was this guy and why would he try to hit me with a forklift? Was he a wack-job smushing innocent people for fun? Or had I done something to deserve smushing? And why was I hanging around a forklift anyway?
Unfortunately, creating flash fiction requires brainpower; and I was fresh out of that. (Not to mention, you already know the punchline.)
When I searched for “funny forklift” on the internet I found a disturbing number of forklift fails, but they were more cringe-worthy than amusing.
I tried to come up with some bad puns: A fork lift; as in an elevator for forks? A fork-lift, as in lifting a fork? I even tried and failed to figure out some kind of filthy double entendre about getting forked. It’s a sad day when I can’t even come up with a dirty joke.
So… I didn’t get hit by a forklift this week (which is good); nor did I get hit with inspiration (not so good). I hope I’ll be able haul my brain out of its swamp of exhaustion soon.
But I think I’m gonna need a forklift…
Help me out here: Anybody know a good forklift joke?
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P.S. Book 13 is available for pre-order at all retailers AT LAST, woohoo! Click here for purchasing links