Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.
This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
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When I was young there was a program called Circus Boy. It stared Micky Dolenz who later shared led vocals with the Davy Jones (which is how we got David Bowe ) in that TV Chimera band the Monkies. Circus Boy was an orphan who took care of an elephant and had cool adventures. It pretty much inspired every boomer kid to long to run away and join the circus. Those were simpler times, a reboot of Circus Boy would take place in post-trumpian dystopian sort of Mad Max meets the Ringling Brothers. Maybe they could get Dolenz to play Joey.
The Circus Has Come and Gone
By Jon DeCles
The Great Circus has come and now is gone.
We were not as smart then. We didn’t know that many animals were people. We didn’t know that many humans were people. We treated elephants and slaves with equal parts cruelty and stupidity. We escaped the disease and war that wrecked out own lives by laughing and cheering at the risks and ruins of the colorfully clad lives before us. For a couple of hours a year our lives could be rose-tinted, and it made us safe from our trouble and pain.
For that, we truly loved our distracting great circus.
No ordinary circus, but the yearly backyard circus for the kid’s birthday. We invited Sparky The Clown and his wife, Nada. They specialized in site gags, clever patter, live mice, snakes, and fire gags.
The first casualty was the back fence, taken down to the corner posts with the first fire gag. The second casualty was grandma, who fainted when she saw the boa take two live mice into its jaws in the first few minutes of the show.
Sparky got a little drunk, sneaking drinks from his flask, and diddled the wife while she barbecued the fat, Polish sausages.
No One Goes to the Circus Any More
by Jeffrey Fischer
The circus came to town. It was sold out. The children loved all the acts, from the trapeeze artists to jugglers to clowns, but especially tigers and elephants performing tricks. PETA organized a boycott, saying it was cruel to cage tigers.
The next year, the circus again came to town. It was well-attended, even though the circus had sold the tigers. PETA boycotted again, complaining it was demeaning to make elephants perform tricks.
The next year, the circus made its annual appearance. With no animal acts, kids didn’t want to go. Attendance was poor. The circus came no longer. Children coud only dream about the joy of seeing tigers and elephants. But to PETA, a child’s joy meant nothing.
#1 – Circus
This place is becoming a circus!
The boss is useless – barking commands and cracking the whip, whilst the managers are a bunch of clowns, running around in circles, falling over their feet and making a complete mess. As for me, I’m juggling priorities and jobs, trying not to drop the ball.
I feel like I’m walking a tightrope, and no safety net: Screw up just once and you’ll find yourself in the lion’s den.
So, I’m looking for a new job. Either that, or I’ll run away to join the circus… Well, I reckon I’m qualified for it already!
#2 – Autocorrected
You’ve got to watch autocorrect – a simple slip can cause all sorts of unexpected results. I put an advertisement in the local paper to try and recruit new students: It was remarkably successful, although the recruits weren’t quite what I’d expected.
I knew something was up when the first clowns started to arrive. Within a week, I had a motley collection of sword swallowers, trapeze artists and lion tamers, and frankly, they weren’t at all impressed with the programme I’d arranged for them to follow.
Next time I’ll proofread the ad… It was circuit training, you idiots, not circus!
What a Circus
Four men entered the Carnival grounds and shot a few rounds left and right before robbing the cash register in the souvenirs stand. Luckily, they didn’t hurt anyone. Sophie, however, wasn’t happy. She pulled on her father’s hand, wide-eyed. The 5-year old pointed at the carousel, a big hole on the thigh of one of the horses. The father nodded. When the robbers were arrested, they were sick to their stomachs. Sophie’s father, with the help of other by-standers, had tied them up to the colorful horses, heads down, and made them go a few rounds, left and right.
Roll up and welcome, to my Circus of Horrors!
Dare to step inside and see sights to confound you; observe mysteries beyond belief.
Behold, the bearded baby, the rat tailed woman and the three headed maiden. Marvel at Cockroach Boy, gasp in horror at the skinless girl, and puzzle over Mr Back to Front.
And then, I invite you to step through the far curtain, beyond which lies a sterile room, and a nurse with a hypodermic syringe.
And it is there I shall work my very special brand of surgery, upon you… My newest, and most peculiar exhibit yet!
On Pearl Street, I saw a juggler entertaining a crowd with 5-club back-crosses.
Cirque du Soleil were in town, so I asked, “Are you with Cirque?”
“That’s a story!” he answered, starting double Mills Mess. “This friend of mine, joins the Cirq. 12 hours training every day, 3 performances every night. Lasted 18 months, never juggled again.”
He began a seven ball cascade. There’s not many can do that.
“Don’t get me wrong, they’re top class. Go see them! But I got freedom!”
He nudged his upturned hat towards the crowd. “Save me from having to work for the Cirq!”
My girlfriend surprised me when she suddenly stormed out of the bedroom and shouted at me, “I can’t take it here anymore. I’m leaving. Living with you is a circus.”
‘”I’m sorry, Babe,” I said to her, putting down my juggling balls. “I know I said the Borzshinski Brothers would only be here for a few days. I’ll get rid of them, and their dancing bear.”
“It’s too late,” she said, picking up our pet poodle. “And I’m taking the dog.”
Resigned, I gave her Fifi’s pink tutu and said, “You’d better take this, too. She won’t perform without it.”
Though she made the decision late in life, Sally’s choice for a circus
retirement seemed reasonable to her. It held the prospect of
adventure and excitement. All she was leaving behind was a cat who
barely tolerated her, a half empty apartment, and a monotonous job.
They let her in, but with no talent, Sally showed no promise and was
given something to suit her strengths. Still alone, still secluded,
she spent her days repeating her task – handing out tickets.
The moral? It doesn’t always pay to runaway to the circus. Sometimes
your escape is still just the mundane.
By Christopher Munroe
You can fit a dozen clowns into a mid-sized car.
Car-clowning, fitting clowns into a clown-car, is a specific discipline in the clowning community, but one that’s still taught, and still a crowd-pleaser even after all these years.
I don’t remember why we decided to see how many clowns would fit on our party-bus. Drinks were involved, we were feeling boisterous after a lovely day at the circus, and it seemed like a good idea at the time…
319, in case you were wondering.
Four of whom travel with us still.
Though they wound up trashing the bus.
I like circuses.
The ones with elephants and clowns and lions and tigers.
And motorcycles in a big round steel cage, where they go round and round.
Nowadays, a circus is a bunch of French-Canadians bouncing on trampolines with laser shows and weird costumes and sets.
Or some stoned hippie sitting by the side of the road, offering to take you on a trip through the circus of your mind.
I tried it once. And when the acid kicked in, the trip was really cool.
But I woke up robbed of everything but my underwear.
Worst Groupon I’ve ever bought.