I have decided to enter the Second Creative Writing Challenge set out by @steemfluencer.
Here are the details of the challenge:

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Task #1: Tony's List

Tony is a writer. He lives not far from the local Walmart. Once he was walking in the nearby park when he met his brother Jack. Jack complained that he had forgotten to buy a present for his wife and that day was their anniversary. Jacked asked his brother to go to Walmart and buy some food so that he could get back home to tidy the place and start preparing for his wife's arrival. He decided to cook dinner and the only chance for him to finish on time is to delegate the shopping to his brother. The shopping list was so huge that he had nothing else to do but to create a story so that all the items were combined all together and could be easily memorized.

The shopping list is:

• Bananas
• Tomatoes
• White wine
• Gone with the Wind - book
• Greek yogurt
• Coke
• Oranges
• A tasty bone for Charlie (the family's dog)
Your task is to help Tony create the story.

Be as much creative as possible. This is a real technique for remembering stuff called the linking method. The more enticing the story is the higher the chance is for Tony to remember all the items he has to buy. Approach it as a writer and do not write something too simple. Warm up your brain cells and surprise me and the rest of the participants with something both creative and funny. It could be a narrative in past tense for example.

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The Reminder

A Creative Comp Entry By DarXide403

Reclined on the sofa with one foot resting on the coffee table, Tony’s brow furrowed as he scanned the page. He felt like he had read the same lines a half-dozen times already, and still kept getting lost. He animatedly turned the book upside down, and cocked his head. He knew no one was watching, but the effort made him somehow feel better. With a sigh, Tony lightly lobbed the copy of Gone with the Wind onto the coffee table, narrowly missing the open container of Greek yogurt.

He slumped back and reached over the arm of the couch, running the tips of his fingers through Charlie’s fur. The golden retriever lifted his head into the affectionate gesture, gently pushing against Tony’s hand.

“How do people read that shit, Charlie?” he queried, glancing over to his companion as if the dog was going to reply. At the mention of his name, Charlie began to wag his tail, thumping it against the base of the sofa with rapid strikes. Tony smiled as he reached for the glass of white wine on the table, lifting it to his lips.

In a tempo nearly matching the wagging tail came a rapping sound. Charlie let out a pair of thundering barks and scampered to the door. Tony let out a mild grunt as he stood, confused as to who would be bothering him at this time of day. He placed the glass back down on the table and shuffled toward the door.

It opened with a mild creak that ended with a clink as the chain lock reached its length, leaving a gap of four inches for Tony to peer through. On the other side stood a scrawny man, perhaps thirty years of age, draped in an obnoxiously loud orange hoodie. His facial features were heavily recessed into his skull. Streaks of blood vessels coloured his eyes a shade of tomato-red as his eyelids twitched, barely holding them into their sockets. He was obviously coked out.

“Hey maaaaan,” came the elongated greeting, and Tony winced at the scent of rotting calcium and filth. “I’m – uh – I’m collecting for the… for the homeless. Would you be willing to spare a few bucks?”

Tony frowned at the transparent lie.

“Are you bananas? You aren’t doing shit for the homeless. You’re obviously here to milk money from hard working people to support your shady habits.”

The man’s eyes darted back and forth as he sputtered to make an excuse for his intrusion, but Tony cut him off before the words could form.

“I’ll tell you what. If you get the hell off my porch right now, I won’t open this door, and I won’t introduce you to Charlie… who will turn your scrawny ass into a treat of tasty bones.”

Hearing his name, Charlie let out a low grumble, bearing his fangs. The man yelped, and dashed away, shouting over his shoulder, “you crazy asshole!”

Tony sighed as he closed the door and latched the deadbolt, recalling exactly why he hated this neighbourhood.

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