Mom got me a Batman costume for Halloween.
“I’m Batman!”
I turned my bike into the Batmobile.
Then, I turned the basement into the Batcave.
You know. So I can fight crime.
I was on my Batcomputer when Mom told me to come upstairs for dinner.
“I’m Batman!” I growled.
“Does Batman want a hamburger or doesn’t he?” she asked.
I threw my cape in front of my face, dropped a smoke bomb, and grabbed a hamburger on my way out the door.
As I got on my bike, I growled another “I’m Batman!” and pedaled off to the Library.

King Size

Why is a king-sized candy bar that size?
No, it’s not because there was a king who liked candy that size.
It was because there was a king who was that size.
Well, a king who had a penis that size.
Which king? None other than the Reverend Martin Luther King, Junior himself.
You know how the King Family earns royalties on his speeches? Well, they do the same with king-sized candy.
That’s why you don’t see much candy in that size.
It’s all fun-size and junior-size.
No, junior’s not named for him either.
His penis was huge, man.

Ghost Stories

Long ago, we used to tell ghost stories around the fire.
But now that we’re all dead and burning in Hell, we tell ghost stories in the fire.
The same stories. Over and over.
I suppose all stories are ghost stories when you’re a ghost.
Especially when the demons go around with whips to flog those ghosts telling happy stories, or stories about really good meals or memories.
You never get used to the flames. An impressive feat, really. Acclimation and desensitization never set in.
Hotter and hotter, while the ghost stories get duller and duller.
Here comes the whip.

The Witch

Gertie the Witch insisted on mixing potions from memory.
“I don’t need my spell book!” she’d screech at the Fire Department. “I’ve still got it all up here!”
He’d tap her forehead.. and noticed that her pointed hat was on fire.
The moment the firemen left, she was back in the kitchen.
Eye of bat…
Tongue of newt…
…or was it the other way around?
Her handwriting hadn’t been the best, even in her good days. And years of smoke damage had left the contents of her supply closet a grimy, sooty mystery.
I call dibs on her magic broom.

Greater Than Less Than

Some people learned that the greater than symbol is an alligator that eats the bigger number.
Other people learned that the less than symbol is an arrow that points at the smaller number.
My second grade Math teacher, Mr. Henson, taught us both.
“It’s up to you to decide,” he said.
The next day, when we arrived at school, there was a bloody trail leading into Mr. Henson’s room.
The room was a ghastly horror.
Last night, an alligator had broken into the school, and when Mr. Henson arrived, the beast attacked and ate him.
We all pointed and screamed.

Weekly Challenge #496 – I remember when…

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:

Tinny rules


Remember Remember
By Christopher Munroe

Remember when that one Guy tried to blow up parliament with a cartload of gunpowder?

Oh come on, you remember. Guy pulls up, gunpowder in tow, he’s intercepted, nothing explodes but he’s ALL OVER the news, people screaming for his execution? It was a whole huge thing, #GunpowderTreason was trending on Twitter and everything, EVERYONE was sharing stories .


Are you sure?


Oh, nothing, I was just wondering how that whole thing turned out. After the initial outrage I kind of lost interest.

I guess these sorts of stories get covered differently in the age of social media…


One Thing to Agree On
by Jeffrey Fischer

Peter asked his dad for forty dollars to fill the car. He really wanted to get away from the boring family reunion. His dad replied, “I remember when gasoline was two bucks a gallon and you could buy a nice house for a hundred thousand.”

Peter’s granddad replied, “That’s nothing. I remember when gasoline was 75 cents and you could buy a nice house for $75,000.”

Peter’s great-grandad wasn’t too mobile any longer, but he still had his memory. “In my time, gasoline was a quarter, and a polite young man pumped it and checked your oil. Oh, and a nice house was $20,000.”

Peter said, “Every generation thinks younger people have it easier.I bet you can’t agree on one thing.”

In unison, all three elders said, “Today’s music sucks. It’s all noise.”

Common Sense
by Jeffrey Fischer

Bryan’s parents often fought. If that wasn’t bad enough, they tended to use Bryan as an intermediary in their battles. Even though both were in the same room, each would direct remarks to Bryan.

“I remember when your mother used to have a hot meal ready when I came home from work.”

“I remember when your father had a good job and could provide for us.”

“I remember when your mother was attractive.” There was a long pause after that comment. Bryan thought his father might have gone too far that time.

“Well, I remember when your father had the good sense to keep his mouth shut.”


I remember when it was Thursday for the full day. I remember it came right before Friday and a little before my favorite day, Saturday. I think I was two or three months old. My dad was home on Saturdays, and it was the day he threw me up in the air a half dozen times in the surf, and caught me right before I touched the cold Atlantic. The day my parents decided I should learn to swim was the day that dad threw me far into the air, and let me fall into the water. Since I had swum around inside my mother’s womb for nine months already, I took to swimming in the ocean, immediately.


#1 – Back

I remember when I was a kid, addicted to Star Trek, Arthur C Clarke and Asimov… The future was going to be amazing.

Unfortunately, it isn’t: Moon holidays, flying cars, teleporters and intelligent robots are still science fiction; we still have to work for a living, iron our clothes and the same inconveniences we thought would one day become things of the past.

The future has badly let me down.

However, I have a cunning plan – I’m waiting for Marty Mcfly and Doc Brown to turn up, and when they do, I’m grabbing a lift… back, to their future.

#2 – Grandpa

Back in the day, grandpa would often take me out into the garden and stand, smoking his pipe and reminiscing about the good old days.

“I remember when this was pasture and farmland, as far as you could see”, he’d say, with an expansive gesture; “Now look at it”

Factories, roads, houses filled the view as far as the horizon.

That was before the asteroid struck.

Now, in the bleak days of eternal winter, I find myself standing in the same spot with my young son…

“I remember when this was all civilisation, as far as the eye could see…”


I remember when I was in school, you used to tease me; you’d steal my homework and bully me in the playground.

Do you also remember?

I think not. You’ve almost certainly forgotten me – an inconsequential, unimportant name from the distant past.

A nobody.

And that suits me just fine – the lack of recognition in your eyes, that blank look you gave me when I introduced myself, work entirely in my favour. Will you remember Nurse Haven when you wake up? I don’t think you will.

But you’ll certainly remember what it was like to once possess legs!


“I remember when saving a man’s life meant exactly that. People would be praised on TV for stopping someone from jumping off a bridge or for saving them from a train approaching at high speed. They were true heroes.
Nowadays, saving a man’s life means nothing of the sort. Anyone can jump off a bridge with little consequences, no one really cares, and there aren’t any trains anymore.
These days, people are hailed as heroes for saving a dead man’s life. Well, they’re half dead… Honey, where’s the gun? The beasts are at the door again and they are hungry.”


Grandpa started saying “I remember when…”
“You couldn’t wait to love me?” interrupted Joe.
“No, that is not what I was saying and have no plans to love you late at night.”
Joe said “Yes, Wen was nose guard for our high school football team junior year.”
“I wasn’t talking about the Wen kid just saying that I remember when earworms weren’t as cool as Stephanie Mabey’s Zombie Love Song but not as sucky as Baby by that Canadian kid with the funny hair.”
Joe replied. “Doesn’t have funny hair, anymore and the worst ear worms were inflicted by Khan.”



“I remember when it was nowt but fields around here,” said Young Tom.

He was called Young, because he was only eighty years old.

“I remember when it were wild forests, and you could get eaten by boars!” rejoined Old Tom, Young Tom’s father.

“Youngsters!” said Great-Great Grandma. Nobody knew how old she was. “I remember when it were ice year round, a mile thick!”

“Tell us about the ape-men!” said Little Tom.

Great-Great Grandma shot him an evil look. “Any Neanderthal was twice the man you’ll ever be. I remember when…”

I sighed. There was no stopping her now.


I remember when the world was young
The knife-sharp air, the mile-high trees, the tides
Reciprocating like a giant’s breath
So strong one feared the day that he might wake.

The empty skies, yet pure of any life
The swamps where giant sloths boomed, mate to mate
Primaeval oceans, wherein ichthyosaurs swam
And trilobe-teeming mud condensed to rock.

When deep convection drove tectonic plates
Which, jostling, raised the Himalayan peaks
When asteroids combining made this globe
When nuclear fusion first began our Sun.

But tell that to the young folk of today,
And they will not believe, whate’er you say.


I remember when a small carton of milk was three cents at my high school cafeteria. Of course this was the 70s when the dairy industry got major subs. In fact the whole lunch program was pretty much one big subsidy. I guess they wanted to produce a generation of reasonably well fed children. My parents wouldn’t spring for a paid lunch, so I had to work in the school book store. I recall eating an inordinate amount of cookies. And a lot of tater tots. What you could get for a buck then would costs you seven dollars today.


(Story was over 200 words when I ran it through Wordcounter. Sorry.)


I remember when the backyard was filled with the happy sound of excited puppies.
I remember when we used to get dressed up and head out in the dead of night to leave puppies on the porches of unsuspecting new owners.
I remember driving in the micro-van with our ears and noses alert for the presence of danger, for criminals and the evil they would perpetrate.
I remember when the pack leader stopped believing in himself, when his plastic card wouldn’t buy us food, and our home was taken away.
I wish we could go live with the Bambi woman.


I remember when Dan and I took a day off of work and he took a foul ball to the head.
Dan doesn’t remember it, though. In fact, Dan doesn’t remember much of anything.
He just sits there and stares.
I could swear, he’s almost smiling.
You could set his hair on fire and he wouldn’t do anything about it.
I still take him to baseball games.
Maybe he’ll take another foul ball to the head and wake his ass up.
That way, he can tell me the combination to the safe.
Or die, and I can collect the insurance.

The Abyss Above

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster.”
Gromsch the Troll put down the dead paladin’s battered copy of Nietzsche, and for a while, he stared at his blood-soaked talons, opening and closing them.
“I fight heroes,” Gromsch muttered. “Will I become a hero?”
The paladin’s corpse did not answer.
Gromsch shrugged, slowly stood up, and crawled out of his cave.
The sunset and clouds were beautiful tonight, the most beautiful he had ever seen, and he wiped a tear from his eye.
And the Heavens above gazed back into him.

The Devil Is Near

When the Devil is near, radios and telephones pick up nothing but static.
WiFi, too.
He likes to go to Starbucks, just to mess with the hipsters on their Macbooks and iPads and iPhones.
Of course, the same thing happens when you go into a tunnel. Radio waves have a hard time getting through all that rock.
Before you start screaming “THE DEVIL!” over and over, check to see if you’re in a tunnel first.
If you’re in a tunnel, relax. You’re in a tunnel. It’s not the Devil.
Unless, of course, the Devil is in the tunnel with you.

Mummy Fighters

Allison filled the super-soaker with holy water.
Joe grabbed a pair of hand mirrors from the drugstore.
Ed has a hammer and a fanny pack full of wooden stakes.
Sally looked at them all and growled.
“We’re hunting mummies, not vampires!”
She lit a torch. “You know? Fire? Mummies hate fire?”
The others shrugged. “But we get paid more for vampires.”
Sally smirked. “You guys are idiots.”
She pulled out her cell phone and called the client. “My team’s gone nuts.”
The client hung up on her, and called the asylum.
“Four for pickup,” he said. “And bring silver bullets.”

Susie’s Monster

Susie was afraid of monsters, so instead of a bed, she slept in a hammock.
And instead of a closet, she kept her clothes in her dresser and an armoire.
“An armoire is just a freestanding closet, isn’t it?” asked Susie’s monster.
“Not according to union rules,” said his supervisor. “She’s got her bases covered. Even uses a clear shower curtain so you can’t sneak up on her.”
Over the years, Susie’s monster was jealous of the other monsters, who earned massive performance bonuses.
And then, after years of doing nothing, Susie’s monster was ready…
He was promoted to management.