Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.
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: BRAIN
We’ve got stories by:
- Anima Zabaleta
- Tura Brezoianu
- Dionysis Clowes
- Norval Joe
- Planet Z
The next 100 word stories weekly challenge is on the topic of BANK. Scroll up and click on Weekly Challenge to learn how to join us!
The Perfect Team
By Christopher Munroe
We’re the perfect team, if you think about it.
Me, the brains, you, the one doing what I say without question.
In fact, maybe you shouldn’t bother thinking about it.
Take my word for it.
We’re the perfect team.
And, once this day is over, thanks to you, I’ll be rich.
You’ll be either dead or imprisoned and, upon questioning, you’ll realize I never even gave you my name.
But that’s not important right now.
What’s important is that you trust me, and do what I say without question.
That’s the way this team works.
by Jeffrey Fischer
Alec was the smartest kid in his sixth-grade class, the biggest brain. Everyone knew that, even the new kids. In fact, if new kids didn’t hear it from some other source, Alec told them himself. After all, what was the point of being the smartest kid if no one else knew?
Despite his brains – and did Alec mention how bright he was? Oh, he did. Good – one thing baffled him: why did so many of his classmates seem so unappreciative of his genius and keep being the snot out of him?
by Jeffrey Fischer
He kept the brain in a formaldehyde-filled jar on his desk, a real conversation piece. Guests would invariably comment on the unusual decoration and ask how he came by it. His stock reply: “Oh, I killed the last visitor to ask that question and dissected him.” Both he and the visitor would have a good laugh, breaking the ice.
Reducing tension in the room also made it easier to catch the visitor off guard. He preferred slipping poison into a drink, as it left the brain intact. He would take the body to the basement, remove the brain, and burn the rest. Then the new brain would occupy the place of honor, and the old would join the others on a basement shelf.
#1 – George’s Story – Part 78: Brainstorm
Concerned the daylight hours were passing, and with night drawing on, the knowledge that he’d be spending the night alone in the hospital weighed heavy on his mind.
“Use your brain George… think!”, he commanded himself.
Sluggishly the word ‘brain’ wandered around his mind until it collided with the word ‘coma’, followed by, ‘concussion’.
Of course! He’d sustained a head injury… what if he’d been elsewhere in the hospital, before he was admitted to the ward?
What if there was information he’d not yet found?
Once again he found himself trawling the corridors, now with a new goal – Intensive Care.
#2 – Dangerous
If I had a brain, I’d be dangerous! At least, that’s what my teachers used to tell me.
I was pretty sure I did have a brain, but I certainly wasn’t dangerous – couldn’t be further from the truth. I was one of the nice guys, completely inoffensive and affable.
Until the accident.
After cutting me from the wreckage, what was left of my body was useless, so the doctors took the decision to transplant my brain.
Now it forms the neural core of the global tactical weapons network.
I am very dangerous.
I guess my teachers were right, after all.
#3 – Decisions, decisions
Pity the poor octopus… with a brain in each tentacle even simple decisions have eight possible outcomes! It’s not uncommon for the poor mollusc to get into huge arguments with itself over the most straightforward decisions: things like what channel to watch on television, or where to go for coffee.
Occasionally, it can result in an eight-sided punch-up – never a pretty sight!
Poor octopus… but it could be much worse.
Pity the poor sea slug, for example: with a mouth that’s also its arse!
(Coming to think of it, I know a few people with that problem too!)
The human brain as we understand it can be identified at 9 weeks into gestation.
From that point on it is responsible for every single thing that happens within your body up until the moment of death. Everything.
Really think about that for a second….
Every breath you take, every blink of your eyes, every word you speak, every sensation and emotion you feel and action you take both anises and unconscious is controlled by your brain. There is not a single thing you will ever do that is not controlled by your brain.
It is the ultimate big brother!
The president had not done a good job controlling the epidemic; there were only pockets in remote areas that appeared to be getting on. Rural Idaho was surviving: preppers there had been on high alert forever.
He took in as many governmental refugees as possible, but the reality was DC had been easy prey. He doubted they would survive much longer.
Absentlymindedly, he scratch a tick bite. The White House was infested with rats and other vermin, since basic services halted more than 4 months ago.
2 thoughts crossed his mind: “Damn, I am thirsty” and, “Let them eat Brains.”
Cal unscrewed the cables and unplugged them. Then he pressed “detach”. He had been taught well. He was never to touch the “reset” area, that small circle the size of a coin.
Many failed to obey and didn’t resist temptation. They touched it. Now, they were beyond repair, doomed to perform menial tasks.
Cal was proud of himself. He always did everything right. He removed his brain and placed it inside the upgrade box. He didn’t like the looks of the new technician though …
After Cal got his brain back, he was placed in the Sanitation Department. Damn smug….bzzzzzt…
“I ate his liver with some fava beans, and a nice chianti…”
Such a fantastic line! And, being a gastronomic daredevil, I had to try it!
Sadly, it didn’t work out all that well – I overcooked the beans, and the liver was just a little tough for my liking. Perhaps it was my cooking, but things never quite turn out like in the movies.
Next time I’m thinking of trying that scene from ‘Hannibal’ – the one where Lecter cooks pieces of Krendler’s brain and feeds them to him.
How about lunch, next Sunday?
And, of course, you’ll be my guest.
Unlikely to Succeed
He was a brain. Wasn’t always. Didn’t get good at math till his 30’s. Overcame both Dyslexia and ADD through the focused maturity only age can produce. Tutored a generation of nursing students in the finer points of Algebra. He was able to memorize a 1000 digits of Pi. Could do the derivation of the Quadratic Formula in Klingon. Wrote a paper on a new algorithm for multiplication and discover a class of regular concave polyhedron base on odd sided polygons. If you asked him how he got so competent, he’d tell you it was through sure brute force.
It is a rule that the more fiendishly clever the plans of an evil genius, the more surely a five-year-old could spot their fatal flaws. Brainiac therefore recruited Dummiac, a human with the superpower of being five years old. Thereafter, Brainiac would not attempt any fiendish plan that failed the Dummiac test.
Brainiac and Dummiac together were unstoppable, and would have taken over the entire Multiverse, had not Dummiac tripped over his shoelaces and prematurely detonated Brainiac’s superweapon. The Justice League soon captured Brainiac, and imprisoned him on a planet where no five-year-old was allowed to approach within a light-year.
I remember I think I remember brains before BrainPlugs. Not as orderly as circumspect as but then we have learned to remember the effort to remember. Many were sceptical qv I was about this is science. Infinite insight infinite information your brain on science Plug In! today. Priced for everyone models priced for upgrade we came out of solus ipse qv for upgrade for upgrade for upgrade os error brain restart brain restarted I remember brains before BrainPulpPlugs Plugs memory error not remembering I remember science your brain on science I remember not remembering information words I remember epiphany qv.
The Brains Behind Pa
Ma always reminded us that she was the brains behind Pa whenever Pa did something stupid. She took credit for the smart things as well, so we concluded that Pa was her puppet.
But that only made us start to doubt Ma. If she was the brains behind Pa, why didn’t she do a better job? We came to suspect some kind of mental defect, probably inherited, in ourselves.
The inevitable question was, had we inherited this defect solely from Ma, partly from Pa, or from both? And, if the last, were we somehow even more defective than either Pa or Ma? Mentally deficient puppets, if that made sense.
Brain in a Vat
At first, Angel couldn’t believe he was her match. She admitted it was nice not to worry about him always trying to touch her. Touching was simply annoying.
She even came to understand why the brain is the largest erogenous zone. Darryl was all brain. But he mostly preferred staying home in his vat. He could travel anywhere there.
Secretly, Angel began to fantasize tumbling down a hill, bicycle crashes, bodies pressing down on her uncomfortably. Darryl remained content, even in the back of a closet under a bag of sweaters. Angel grew skeptical of life and eventually sold everything, including Darryl, in an apartment sale.
The door to the room where Dergle sat swung open and an elderly woman hobbled in. Stoop shouldered, grey haired and chunky, she smiled, but her eyes seemed wildly evil.
Dergle stood and offered her the one chair while Long John’s hackles rose and he growled.
“Sorry, Ma’am,” Dirgle said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”
“It’s okay,” she cackled. “He probably just smells my cats on me.”
“Oh,” Dergle said. “Are you the Cat Woman?”
“You’re obviously not the brains of this organization. I have more than fifty cats in my apartment.” I’m the Crazy Old Cat Lady.”
I know a few jokers who have asked people to show up at their funeral dressed in a black robe and skeleton mask while carrying a scythe.
However, I’m worried that more than one person would show up as The Grim Reaper.
You know, because it would make kids wonder if The Grim Reaper is real.
Just like seeing more than one Santa Claus messing up the magic of Christmas for them.
I’d rather show up dressed as Igor, with a shovel and an organ transport cooler.
“Brains? Nah, Master has enough of those. I’m here for the open bar.”