23 January 2026, @mariannewest's Freewrite Writing Prompt Day 2992: unpleasant perfume

“And all I'm saying is, y'all need to recognize sometimes adults are actually right – they're gonna shut you down because ain't no way.”

Eight-year-old Gracie Trent was saying this to her nine-year-old brother Milton and his nine-year-old best friend George Ludlow as they came within earshot of ten-year-old Andrew and eleven-year-old Eleanor Ludlow and also the Ludlow grandfather, Capt. R.E. Ludlow Sr., and also their elder cousin, Tarquin Ludlow VI, great-grandfather to their five-year-old cousin Tarquin VI who was running around the backyard with five-year-old R.E. Ludlow III, baby brother to George, Andrew, and Eleanor.

“OK, well, Cousin Tarquin is even older than Papa, so, he probably is old enough to understand where we are coming from – good afternoon, Cousin Tarquin and hi, Papa!”

“Good afternoon, Cousin George and friends,” Mr. Ludlow said.

“So, isn't it true that ambergris was once used in perfumes?” George said.

“Yes,” both elder Ludlows said.

“And isn't ambergris just basically whale throw-up?” George said.

Mr. Ludlow looked at Capt. Ludlow's mild look of grandparent existential dread with a knowing smile.

“Yes,” both men said.

“So, Milton and I were thinking: since ambergris is kinda hard to get since they aren't whaling like they were way back when, if we could just figure out how they process it, we could use other types of throw-up and make a fortune because –.”

“Short answer: no.” Capt. Ludlow said.

“I told y'all!” Gracie said.

“But why?” Milton said.

“Long answer: it takes years of aging in seawater and sunshine for ambergris, which is a waxy substance, to actually smell good,” Mr. Ludlow said. “Fresh, it smells like what you imagine whale throw-up would smell like.”

“And here I thought Melvin and his coffee allergy could be turned to a good cause,” Milton said, “and I could eat jalapenos for a good cause too.”

“I told y'all!” Gracie said. “We don't live anywhere near the ocean, and we do not have years to sit and wait anyway!”

“Among other reasons,” Capt. Ludlow said.

“Indeed, that would make a most unpleasant perfume for many reasons,” Mr. Ludlow said. “I guarantee you, though, given the history of the country, that if it could have been done, it would have been.”

“But we don't do torture of ourselves or others for profit,” Capt. Ludlow said. “Ever. Our family used to. Not any more.”

“Yeah, but, of course we were going to cut Melvin in on his profits – I am Black, after all, so, no funny business!” George said. “It would be more like giving plasma for money than anything!”

“How do you even – my, Robert, your grandchildren are at the cutting edge,” Mr. Ludlow said.

“Which is why I am selling what was the winery back to you, and letting the workers buy the bubbly half – I have to stay focused,” Capt. Ludlow said. “I will gladly give up being CEO of a soda company today so we do not have perfume made of aged human throw-up tomorrow.”

“Or we could more to Virginia Beach, though!” George said.

Capt. Ludlow narrowed his eyes.

“No.”

Gracie threw up her hands as Milton and George jumped back.

“I told y'all! You could have missed the thunder drop, but nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!”

“Goodbye, Milton and Gracie – George, get in the house and find something safe to do.”

“Yes, sir,” George said. “Bye, y'all!”

“OK – see you, George!” Milton said. “We gotta talk about the shed dog hair tomorrow – there's probably something in that to work with!”

“Or not – no.” Capt. Ludlow said, and that was that.

“And we thought water rights were far out,” Andrew said.

“The human imagination,” Mr. Ludlow said, “does not know a limit until it hits one. Water, on the other hand, is pretty simple.”

“I'm just glad that's over because Grandma, Glendella, Amanda and I will not wear their idea of a perfume blend but we would be cool about it,” Eleanor said. “But can you imagine Edwina?”

Mr. Ludlow started laughing as Capt. Ludlow sighed and said, “You see why I told George to go find something safe to do?”