Knots in my stomach

725533

I feel knots in my stomach.
So, I swallow a Boy Scout.
He crawls back out.
“I forgot my flashlight,” he says, and crawls back in.
He tries to untie it, but it turns out that his knots badge is a fake.
So, I go down to the docks and swallow a dockworker.
You’d think that a professional who works with knots all day could untie it, but he was stumped.
“I just do boat hitches,” he said, tipping his cap and going back to work.
So, you say you’re a backpacker?
Handy with bungee cord?
Mind taking a look?

My Spy

801183

An assassin is following me.
He’s an expert at this. Wouldn’t suspect a thing if you saw him there.
Friendly. Polite. Well-groomed.
But I know what he’s really doing:
Following me.
So, I turn the tables on him.
I put on a disguise, cover my tracks, and follow him.
He doesn’t suspect a thing. Doesn’t break cover. Maintains his routine.
Excellent.
I corner him in an alley, a knife to his throat.
He’s surprised and denies being my assassin.
Just like all the rest.
I bury him in the park with the others.
And wait for another to follow me.

The Kraken

860120

Off the coast of Port Byron, the seas boil with tentacles.
The Great Kraken has returned for its Solstice Sacrifice, part of the pact our ancestors made with the beast.
We load up a boat with murderers, thieves, and the feeble, lowering it into the water and sending its shabby crew to their doom.
Some townsfolk make a picnic out of the occasion.
They toast the ancestors with champagne, and feast on kraken tentacles, boiled in butter.
We give up our own, the Great Kraken reciprocates.
One taste, and you’ll agree that we got the better end of the deal.

Weekly Challenge #223 – At the fair

13308865

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Twenty-Three, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Air the fair!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
Matt R
Caleb B
Steven S
LizzieBeth
June S
Jeffrey H
Justin L
Norval Joe
TJ
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

Matt

A man named John met Jack and Jill at the fair one fine summer day. John said to Jill what a thrill it is still to roll down the hill down the way. So John, Jack and Jill went over to the hill to race down to the side sans their sleigh. John went first and landed with a curse as his head hit the hardened clay. Then Jack and Jill followed John’s step and rolled down the hill the wrong way. Both Jack and Jill tumbled down the hill and landed hard that summer day. They forgot the water.

Caleb

@thefair: Be thee fair or foul I’d love thee still
more than heaven or all the gods above could know
@shakeybill: Games! Rides! Prizes! Try the funnel cakes! All down at the Chinchilla fairground this weekend!
@thefair: The games with you I’ve played in days gone by
The prize is love; fried and battered tasty
@shakeybill: This weekend at the Chinchilla fairground You’ll have such a great time your life will be changed forever!
@thefair Yes change my life your love would bring me life
Allow me but to taste your lips this night
@shakeybill Yes, I love you too!

Steven

“I don’t want to go on the stupid ride.” Sarah put her small fists on
her hips, staring at her father.
The spin-and-puke (or whatever) sang the same shrill tune as the
neighborhood ice cream truck. “Okay,” her father said. “How about a
balloon animal?” A nearby mime, hearing him, wheeled his tank and
deflated balloons closer.
“I want Spot to be alive again,” Sarah wailed, tears streaking her dusty face.
The mime lifted a finger and went to work. In moments, he presented
Sarah with the inflated dog.
She looked unimpressed, until it licked her and wagged its tail.

LizzieBeth

The smell of popcorn wafted through the air. It tickled the senses, inviting a person to sample its mysteries. To delve into delights that could only be imagined.
Hustle and bustle permeated every available corner. Some people scream. Others start shouting, oblivious to their surroundings. Children squeal with delight, eager to partake of every nook and cranny that lay hidden to their view.
Animals brayed, signaling for the want of attention. Yet their voices seemed to fall on deaf ears as people ran about.
Turn here or there; a new sight beheld the eyes. A new smell captivated the senses.

June

Tommy patiently led his little brother to the dart game, fishing pond, and duck river.
He put his foot down at the ferris wheel.
“That’s slow and for babies. Come on Jason, let’s get on the Scrambler.”
“No! I want to go up high!” A foot stamp.
“It doesn’t go that high, and it’s tamer than the moon bounce.”
Tommy began to drag his brother; away from the puke orange wheel, listing in the faint summer breeze. Jason craned his neck around to see the stupid thing.
Until the ferris wheel fell over, onto the Scrambler merrily spinning beside it.

Jeffrey

“Coin Please.”
“What?”
“Your coin please sir.”
“You have got to be kidding you are charging me to get across. What if I just stay here?”
“You’ll be stuck in limbo all eternity unless you pay the fare.”
“Fine, what is it?”
“One sliver coin.”
“sliver coin, you know how long its been since we used sliver coins?”
“One silver coin or you don’t cross.”
“Your just stuck on this aren’t you. Let me see what I’ve here. Gum, receipt, sugar packet, ah a one Euro. That is the best I got.”
“That will have to do.”
“What no change?”

Justin

I looked over the various weapons; Pistols and rifles. Despite the various sizes, they all used the same ammo: Rubber bands. The man tending the booth had rough hands and a pock-marked face. Several other folks were checking out the weaponry. A crying kid and his mom walked up to the booth. The kid held a broken rifle. Through tears the kid explained he dropped the gun and it broke. The weapons dealer said he couldn’t replace it. More pleading tears. The man replaced the weapon. The kid’s face held joy. I bought a pistol. I reward good customer service.

Norval Joe

She was an unusual child and didn’t mix well with the other teens in the small rural town. None of the kids knew if Shanelle had moved from the city or a forein country. When she spoke, it was a quiet monotone without accent.
They were surprised when she joined 4H.
“I breed rabbits,” she said without producing any evidence to support her claim, until the competition at the fair.
They thought she joked when she asked that her bunnies be judged in an experimental class.
The carnage on opening day made it clear she was serious about vampire rabbits.

TJ

This year’s FFA displays were worth the entire price of admission.
There were some impressive exhibits among livestock and produce, but two
pickup trucks were required to transport the odds-on favorite for
first-place prize-winning pumpkin in from the Mickelson farm. It was
about the size of a shed and had a fiery orange coloring that seemed to
glow in the sunlight. Indeed, it took first, but the cash prize of
$1,000 was ultimately little comfort as the other effects of living
downstream from Globex Biochemitrol began to manifest themselves –
starting when the winning pumpkin sprouted … legs … and teeth.

Planet Z

I do advertising.
But I haven’t worked for a year. Agency fired me.
Every credit card maxed out. No savings left.
Bank’s foreclosing the house.
I’ve sent my resume everywhere, been to every job fair.
Nobody’s hiring.
I thought about killing myself for the insurance, but that’s gone. The policy was canceled when I lost my job.
That’s when I came up with the solution: establish my own agency.
When do I get clients?
I’ll get my old ones back.
The agency’s staff meeting should be starting.
Hillary’s Homemade Cookies. A new client.
I’m Hillary.
Made with love… and poison!

Flounce

817903

It all started with flouncing.
“Gathered or pleated?” asked the forum moderator for The Dressmaker’s Dummy online community portal.
Some dressmakers swore by gathered material, but others insisted that pleated was best.
That’s when the YouTube videos appeared, demonstrating one style’s superiority over the other.
Others used the opportunity to drag out dead horses to beat, deriding materials like suede and burlap, even though they were completely off-topic.
Finally, someone posted “Hitler liked gathered skirts!” and Godwin’s Law was invoked.
Everybody flamed everybody else.
The forum moderator posted a long and dramatic resignation.
I guess it ended with flouncing, too.

Astonished

860121

Nobody was astonished when Missy Johnson ended up in prison.
She was the black sheep of the family, the first kid to be sent to reform school kindergarten.
When other children were learning to count and watching Sesame Street, she was running guns to Belize and ruled the city’s drug lords with an iron fist.
In between Nap Times, of course.
Pretty soon, all organized crime in the world was under Missy’s thumb, and her babysitters became her lieutenants, helping her run a global prostitution ring.
And then, prison.
She turned herself in voluntarily.
Safer behind bars, opulent accommodations nonetheless.

Creative Juices

860121

We let the children play with their toys and draw with crayons for an hour.
Then, the valves open and knockout gas puts them to sleep.
Nap time.
When they wake up, they have no memory of our hooking up the spinal shunts and draining them of their creative juices.
Looking around the room, they pick up the crayons and stick them in their mouths or put them up their noses.
The toys are used to smash other toys or hit other kids.
Eventually, they learn to play and draw again.
And we are ready to harvest more creative juices.

Where do babies come from?

800994

Where do babies come from?
After the Cobalt War, they come from The Baby Factory.
Deep underground, shielded from the radiation and toxins in the air and soil, geneticists assemble the next generation.
Or, if we can’t remove enough of the contaminants, the last generation.
This time, the scientists are working on adding thick hides, culled from rhinoceros genes.
The babysitters have a high suicide rate, watching wave after wave of monsters come from the labs, dying from horrifying diseases and tissue rejections.
The ants crawl over their tiny, broken corpses.
“Looks like it’s your turn now,” I tell them.

The Gliders

800994

Observer gliders soar through the clouds, spreading the latest batch of chemicals cooked up by the Weather Division.
“Rain will be purple today,” they said.
The chemicals are meant to turn the rain purple, but the rain is more pink than purple.
And when we catch it on our tongues, it burns.
Everybody runs for cover, and we watch the streets sizzle with acidic fury.
Then, the storm passes, and we wander the pock-marked streets stained with the melted-off paint from cars.
The Weather Division promises orange rain tomorrow morning.
We put on our gas masks and go to sleep.

Vagrant

722817

Of all of Zeus’ guises, he enjoyed taking the form of a vagrant the most.
There was something strange about having a body, but still being invisible to everyone around him.
Nobody sees what they don’t want to see.
People would pass him by, only noticing him if he were in their way, blocking their progress through their pointless mortal lives.
“Get out of my way, you bum!” growled a merchant. “Can’t you see I’m busy shopping for my wife?”
Leda, isn’t it? thought Zeus.
He smiled a rakish smile and took the form of a swan.
A well-endowed swan.