Scarecrow 2.0

It used to be that you could hang a shirt from a stick, put a hat on top, and scare off crows that way.

But these days, most crows aren’t scared by a traditional scarecrow.

So, farmers now fly drones around their fields to scare off the birds.

This works as long as the drones fly. Which isn’t very long, if you’re running on batteries.

While the drone charges, the birds feast.

But if you use ultra light-weight drones with solar panels, they’ll stay up all day long.

Then, all you have to worry about is running out of missiles.


It’s cute when the kids dress up as ghosts and vampires, and then wander around the neighborhood begging for candy with “Trick or Treat!”

It’s not cute when the hundreds of children of Syrian refugees that the government settled here throw rocks through windows and torch churches and cars with “Allahu Ackbar!”

It’s hard to call them children when they’ve got beards. Sure, nineteen is still technically a teenager, but we try them as adults.

The government provides lawyers and community advocates. In and out of the jail they go.

And back to burning and looting.

We sure got tricked.

Weekly Challenge #494 – Us

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at

This is Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

We’ve got stories by:

Derpy girl


By Christopher Munroe

You’re either with us, or against us.

Or, now that I think about it, you’ve never heard of us at all and have no opinion regarding us one way or the other.

In fact, given that we aren’t particularly notable, either for good or ill, chances are that it actually is the third thing that describes you.

So, anyway, you’re either with us, against us, or we’re nothing to you, have always been nothing to you, will always be nothing to you and you’re completely indifferent to us.

Probably the latter.

Now get off the fence and pick a side!


Big Game
by Jeffrey Fischer

“They really are magnificent animals,” I told Taranj, my native guide.

“Indeed, sir.”

“And endangered, you say?”

“Very endangered. Hunted nearly to extinction.”

“And yet…”


“We’re stuck in this tree while a hungry pride of lions waits for us. If we do nothing, we’ll eventually starve to death. If we try to run for it, we wouldn’t get more than a few feet before being mauled and eaten.”

“You summarized our situation quite well, sir.”

I sighed. “That’s it, then. Nothing else to do. I hate to do it, but it’s either us or them. We’ll have to shoot our way out.”

“Pardon me for pointing this out, but my rifle is at the base of the tree.”

“I see that. Go get it, Taranj!”

“What if I’m attacked?”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

At Night

by Jeffrey Fischer

Briony snapped the light off then sat under the covers, listening. Her daddy told her there was no such thing as monsters, and she believed him. Still, every night she heard rustling sounds, and what she thought was whispering. Daddy said it was just house noises, but Briony wasn’t so sure.

When her ears picked up the whispering once again, she called out, “Who’s there? I can hear you, you know.”

Silence. Then, from below her, a gruff voice responded, “There’s no one here but us monsters under your bed. Get some sleep, kid.”

“Oh, okay.” Briony settled herself in the covers.

“Wait for it…” said the monster.

“Mommy! Daddy! Come quick – there are monsters under my bed!”

“Geez, kid, calm down. We’re monsters, nothing more. It’s not as though I said we’re from the government and we’re here to help. Then you’d have a reason to be scared.”


Ultrasound (US) is used for a number of things. I used an inexpensive, portable unit for muscle stimulation and strengthening. Originally, Russian Muscle Stimulators were used as part of the Russian Olympic Team training. I made the decision to experiment, and tasked my device for the discrete, yet profound strengthening of my unit. The smooth muscle was able to adapt to minute tearing of the cellular walls of the pores, thereby making the pore cells larger and more capable of absorbing more blood. If anyone would like to purchase a device, documentation, and a log describing results, please email me.


#1 – Join us

‘Come and join us’, the flyer said – nothing else, just a telephone number.

I was intrigued enough to pick up the phone, half expecting a recorded bible message or telesales call centre. So, when my call was answered by a friendly and reassuring voice, I was a little surprised, to say the least.

I asked her to explain the mysterious invitation, and my surprise turned to incredulity – this was an opportunity too good to let pass by.

So, I joined them, and it was the best decision of my life.

You should too… Would you like the number?

#2 – The Golden Rule

Battered, bruised and exhausted, he staggered through the imposing gateposts, before collapsing into the mud, utterly exhausted.

He had finally made it – the fabled Lair of the Golden Monkeys!

Days later, now recovered from his ordeal, he was summoned to appear before the Grand Council.

“So, tell us: Why should we make you one of us?”

He told of his struggles and dedication, of long nights and countless hours of self-denial, of years of toil and the broken relationships. He told them of his striving for perfection and…

“No, no, no!” Interrupted the Great High Monkey.

“Keep it brief!”


We lay on my couch and I wondered if this was a bad idea. But I went through with it. My first one-night stand. It sucked. Had you EVER done this before, I wondered. But me, I was amazing apparently. I had everything you wanted and now I can’t get rid of you. You moved in and started causing too many extra dishes and wearing my socks. I wonder why you won’t stop breathing; you wonder how you got so lucky. Turns out, I’m not good at one-night stands. But dating sucks. So… this is it, huh? OK. Let’s have dinner.


The us we used to be disappeared.

“How did this happen? When did we drift apart?” She did that, talk incessantly. I just couldn’t process what she was saying anymore. It was all a numbing blur.

I still remember the long walks at the beach, holding hands, the salty promises of eternal love.

I still remember, right before the wedding, the eagerness of that forbidden kiss and the way we looked up at the balcony and saw my future wife waiting.

We continued to meet secretly, but this us we used to be disappeared… There was just you and her.


“If you want to be one of us, you have to drink our blood”, said Jenny, offering me a plastic cup.

I didn’t want to drink, but I desperately wanted to be in the gang, so I closed my eyes and swallowed the lot.

It was probably blackcurrant juice; I didn’t want to imagine what else they’d added to concoct their ‘blood’: It didn’t matter – I was in the gang, and staying for the sleepover!

Later that night, sinking my teeth into Jenny’s neck, I smiled at the sweetness of her blood and looked forward to happy days ahead.


“Have you ever been in one of those secret clubs?” asked the boy asked his dad.
“Not secret but very few know about uss, that is U double S.” replied his father
“Doesn’t that stand for United States Ship?” asked the son.
“In this case it stands for The Uberfans of Sanborn Smith. It’s currently a small group but someday we hope to be even bigger than bronies with an annual meeting called UssCon. So what do you think ” said father.
“Honestly father, I think maybe it was a bad idea to put a Hairy Mango into you Mango colada.”


Turtles all the Way Down

Ulysses and Sally were inseparable. Way beyond soulmates, they shared a particular way of looking at the world. It was all about the work. And the work was about to change everything. When it became clear their overlords weren’t about to let them control the project in a manner that served the great good, they made a run for it. “I guess it’s going to be us and against them,” said Sally. Ulysses booked passage to Peking by way of Tokyo. The media call them traders, the government press hard to get them return to the US, to no avail.


Bambi handed Dergle a plate of spagetti and sat with him on the couch.
“You don’t have to sleep in your van in some parking lot,” Bambi said. “You can sleep here. On my couch.”
“B,b,b,but,” Dergle stuttered. “It would be just you and me here. Just us. All alone.”
“Yeah. So?” Bambi asked.
“I wouldn’t be right. We can’t sleep in the same apartment. We’re not married,” Dergle said, blushing furiously.
“Why?” Bambi sounded upset. “I’d be in my room. You’d be on the couch. You could have your dog be a chaperone.”
Dergle could only shake his head.


Once upon a time, there was an ugly country called Uk. It was cold and damp, and it always rained. Because it was an ugly country, its people were ugly, and they did ugly things. They invaded a beautiful country across the sea, inhabited by beautiful peoples, who did beautiful things, but Uk enslaved them all.

Then the peoples said, Uk cannot conquer all of Us together. United, We drove Uk away. Then We drove ugliness away wherever it was, and at last the world was ruled by Us.

And that is how the US, the Universal State, was born.


We’ve been together fifteen years.
But how together are we?
We have separate bank accounts.
We have separate credit cards.
We file our taxes separately, do our own laundry separately, and because someone has to watch the cats, vacation separately, too.
I work early, and she works late.
So, by the time she gets home, I’m asleep.
And when I wake up, she’s asleep.
We’re together on the weekends, though.
Watching football. Or baseball. Or basketball.
Or picking up plants from the nursery down the street.
A nice dinner out now and then.
What more can you ask for, really?

The topic of the next weekly challenge is STICK

Hi there. This is Laurence Simon of the 100 Word Stories Podcast at

The topic of the next 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge is STICK.

Want to give it a try?

Write an email to isfullofcrap (at) with the subject line of WEEKLY CHALLENGE.

Include the following in your email:

– The text of your 100 word story on the topic.
– Your site’s URL, if you have a site and aren’t ashamed to share it.
– A topic for an upcoming Weekly Challenge.
– And a recording of your story. (Be sure to introduce yourself to the audience.)

If you hate the sound of your voice or can’t record your story for some reason or another, that’s your problem. Deal with it.

Everything’s due by Sunday morning when I put the episode together. However, if you’re running late, I can put your story up on the feed in a separate post.

Good luck, and as always… keep it brief.

10/25 “I remember when…”
11/1 Crush
11/8 Order
11/15 Deck
11/22 Wind
11/29 Pin
12/6 Pick a card… any card!
12/13 Box
12/20 Drop
12/27 New Year’s Resolutions
The Line
I’m sorry
Think of a number
What’s for dinner?
Your earliest memory

Restless Home

It started with hanging sheets around the place.
Then, we added battery-powered fans to make them flutter a bit.
Okay, in the dark, with some smoke machines, they kinda looked like ghosts.
But they weren’t good enough.
We rigged up holographic projectors, and bounced their images off of plastic sheets.
And we went full HD with the animated visuals.
They totally scared the shit out of everyone.
And several of the nursing home residents died from heart attacks.
The rest called the state agency in to shut us down.
Yeah, we’re all out of work. But fuck it. We rocked.

Spell Book

So, you stole the witch’s spellbook?
Big deal.
Do you know the language she used?
The alphabet? Her handwriting?
It’s not just the words, but hand gestures and chemicals.
And those things in the jars.
Do you use the left eye of the newt or the right?
It’s not just a cookbook.
The spellbook is a living, breathing thing.
It’s a part of her.
And she can feel its loss. She will reach out to it.
She will find it. She will find us.
Unless we burn it. Tonight.
Right now.
Don’t breathe the smoke.
Don’t look into the flame.


Halloween is around the corner.

Trick or treaters.

I read in the paper that pet shelters won’t adopt out black cats during October because people do awful things to them.

One person wanted two cats for decorations for their party.

Decorations. For a party.

It’s so wrong.

Cats are not decorations. They have souls, like us.

And when they’re gone?

Halloween is around the corner.

I get out the plastic pumpkins. Then the witches. And the ghosts.

And a paper black cat, arched over three orange letters:


I put it away.

I miss him so much.