TL;DR - Start your story with a random nonsense sentence. 1000 words max, one week, link in comments if you want.
This 2012 challenge from Terrible Minds was to use a random sentence for your prompt. The site he used is no longer there, but there are several others. Try this one.
Use your random sentence as the first or last one in your story. Genre is your choice.
I clicked a few times and got several interesting sentences, so I decided to use them all. As usual, this is the better, tweaked version. 910 words. BTW - This is sort of a sequel to a previous story I did, The Fire of the Gods.
Lost in Translation
“The newcomer constitutes the else goodbye.”
What the hell? She checked the translator box settings. The chief’s words made no sense. Hopefully, at least hers were making sense to him. She keyed her mike again. “Greetings to the forest people. We are your friends.”
The native chief frowned and spoke once more. “A splendid cylinder digs any grandfather.”
“Crap,” she muttered. She smacked the box with the side of her hand, then spoke loudly and slowly. “We were here before, and lost one of our own people.”
The box was dutifully squawking and whistling at the chief, but no response from him this time. The natives waited, their weapons definitely all at the ready.
She keyed the squad’s internal channel. “Chuckie, I’m not sure these translator boxes are working any better than the last ones they tried here.”
“I heard the last team just gave up trying to talk,” he said. “Just went on with their research. Until the incident, and they lost Barbara. She had gone to help the chief’s son, knowing that she was probably too late. We need to find out what happened, but we won’t calm them down much in all this armour. We’re like the boys from the next town, walking into the Palace Hotel just itching for a fight. And the locals are just dying to take them all on.”
“Standard protocol, you know that,” she said. “But let’s dial it back a bit. Keep your weapons ready; just lower them a bit toward the ground. Try not to give the impression that between us we’ve enough firepower to wipe them all out.” She fiddled with the box again. Maybe it’s this blue knob, she thought. She reached up, lifted her visor and smiled at the chief. “About Barbara—“
The natives all shouted in anger and raised their weapons. Their leader shook his fist at her and yelled, “The soft drum sands the dread synthesis. The newcomer constitutes the else goodbye.” With another yell, he threw his spear at her, a signal for the rest to launch their own spears and arrows at her team.
“Hold your fire, guys,” she said, barely having time to slide her visor down.
The weapons all bounced harmlessly off their armour, but the natives looked ready to charge now, axes and knives raised overhead. Her team all had their weapons at the ready now, too, nervously sweeping the crowd, dotting them with their laser sights.
“Back up, guys, carefully, towards the ship,” she said. “Dean, get ready to lob some gas and smoke.”
“Coach, incoming on your right,” he called back.
She swerved, finger tightening on the trigger, to see a very small monkey racing at her, chased by a very large dog. In seconds, the monkey had ducked behind her, grabbing her leg. The dog skidded to a stop, baring its teeth at her, growling in a deep, angry rumble, its hair raised on the back of its neck, its tail twitching.
“Boo!” she said, stomping her foot at the dog. It just growled more and took a step closer. Those jaws looked powerful. “Damn it, guys, I don’t like dogs, especially when they look like they’re part wolf and part Great Dane. And, I don’t think this one likes me.”
“They can tell if you’re bluffing or not,” said Chuckie. “Don’t back down or he’ll go for you. We had one like that on the farm. It was like he could read your mind. One time me and my brother was out back looking for this little calf and—”
“Can it, Chuckie,” she said. “Right now this one looks ready to leap.”
“Want me to shoot it?” said Dean.
“No, it’s only a dog, jeez. Let me think,” she said.
There was a low whistle from the crowd. The dog paused, then looked back, as a little girl peered around from behind the chief. She whistled again, and the dog trotted back to her, wagging its tail. The girl smiled and waved her hand back at the armoured soldiers.
“Saved by the sisterhood,” said Chuckie.
“Shut up,” she said. “And not a word of this back at base. OK, let's try this one more time, guys. Cover me.” She carefully turned the translator box off, reached up, and removed her helmet.
She smiled at the natives. “Thank you,” she said. She smiled again and gestured towards the little girl while reaching back for the monkey. She peeled it from her leg and shooed it back toward the natives.
The chief gestured to his people to lower their weapons. Perhaps these were the same gods as before, but just with thicker skins. At least they had stopped yelling insults at his people. He leaned down to his granddaughter.
“Thank you for calling back your dog. Now run back to the village and tell the women to prepare a feast for our visitors.”
Maybe this time the gods would learn his language, so that he could tell them about their friend, Bara. How an evil witch had possessed her, and had spread corruption to his son. His people had worked quickly to kill her and consume her flesh. This was the way it had always been, as only by doing this could they prevent the evil spirit from spreading back to all her own people. He smiled and stepped forward, eager to teach the strangers. They would be grateful to his people for saving them all.