Despise

605014

I despise you now, but one day, I will stop despising you.
You see, I plan on living forever, and once you meet your doom, there’s not much point in despising you, is there?
There will be so many new people, young and fresh, that will need despising and there’s no sense in wasting despise on the dead.
They’re, like, dead, you know? What’s the point in despising a dead person? It’s not like they can feel your despise.
I just wanted you to know.
Here’s your cheeseburger and fries.
Would you like some ketchup and salt for the fries?

Weekly Challenge #199 – Anything you want, Higgledy piggledy, Tree

4717295

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Ninety-Nine, 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 Anything you want, Higgledy piggledy, Tree!
The excellent theme music is by Guy David.
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
Zachmann
Norval Joe
Steven
Justin
TJ
JRadimus
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

Zachmann

A beautiful Filipina woman wearing a Jessica Rabbit dress walked up to me where I was sitting on a bench near a tree in the park. She leaned forward. My mind went higgledy piggledy because of the very revealing dress. We started to talk. We had a chemistry. She said “I will do anything you want.” I took her home. Naturally since I was a man and she was a sexy woman, I told her how lucky I was to met her then I asked her to make Shanghai lumpia and watch the children so I could take a nap. zackmann (next topic music)

Norval Joe

The note said, “Meet me at the oak tree after school.”
Chad recognized the purple ink.
When the bell rang, he ran to the tree.
She handed him a red paper heart with lace trim. In silver glitter it said, “I’m higgledy piggledy over you, Valentine.”
He blushed furiously and hoped no one saw.
When she turned away he hid it in his book.
“Amy, wait,” he called and pulled a crumpled card from his back pocket. He pushed it into her hand and ran away.
It read, “Anything you want, Valentine, I’m it.”
Sixth grade is tough on boys.

Steven

I ran as fast as my stubbly little hooves would go. Gary said my
running was “higgledly-piggledly”, but Gary’s dead now.
My tree had fallen. It wasn’t strong enough. Stronger than Gary’s
straw hut, strong enough to give me a chance to run, but that was all.
Ralph stared wide-eyed at me through the window of his brick house.
“Let me in!”
A tear ran down Ralph’s cheek. He didn’t open the door.
The wolf’s breath was hot on my neck.
“Your choice, little piggy. I’ll eat you any way you want.”
I tried to choose something quick.

Justin

* “Brave Dwarf, you’ve helped the elves so much, and we owe you deeply. What gifts could we give you in return?”
“Well, now that my home as been destroyed, please build me a tree house to live in!”
* “Certainly Dwarf! We would be honored if you stayed with us.”
“I’d like haggis to eat at least once a week.”
* “Haggis? This is strange to us, but we will provide if we can. We owe our survival to you, after all.”
“Most of all, the thing I really want …”
* “Yes, Dwarf?”
“Stop calling me Dwarf, my name is Higgledy Piggledy!”

TJ

“Hey kids, great game!” Coach said. “Let’s all get ice cream!”
“Ice cream!” Gleeful shouts filled the air as the ice cream truck pulled up next to the ballpark in the shade of a tree.
“Order whatever you want!” Coach said as the kids ran higgledy-piggledy towards it.
The losing team watched the mass of joy headed to the truck.
“No ice cream for losers,” the visiting team’s Coach growled.
The kids piled into a half dozen cars and headed homeward, for a rather more bleak end of town, as the lowering sky unloaded a cloudburst of disappointment upon them.

JRadimus

There’s a town in the valley with a peculiar tree growing amidst the ruins of a church. Its origin is so unique the town’s name changed from Johnson’s Elbow to Big Preacher’s Oak.
Long ago, in another village, a precocious girl named Esther was given a Wishing Stone by a hermit. He told her, “This will grant your heart’s true desire. But,” he warned, “You mustn’t cast your wish higgledy-piggledy.”
Finally, Esther knew what she wanted: this travelling preacher’s daughter was tired of travelling. Pinching the stone, she whispered, “I wish Papa would put down roots here in Johnson’s Elbow…”

Planet Z

This was my first time Deep South, so when someone told me that the grocery store was called the Piggly Wiggly, I started cracking jokes.
“Does that make the hardware store the Higgedly Piggeldy?” I said.
They stripped me naked and tied me to a tree.
Then they set my car on fire and rolled it into the lake.
“Anything you want before we cut your throat, Yankee?” said a man in a white hood and robe.
“Yeah, flowers and dinner before you fuck me,” I said.
He smiled, pulled out some roses, and dropped his pants.

Roll Out The Barrel

605026

As the band played the Beer Barrel Polka, we rolled out the barrel and propped it up.
Something shifted inside. Something solid.
We opened it up and found a corpse.
According to the wallet in his jacket pocket, he was Jimmy “The Fish” Muldoon, a heavy with the Chicago Mafia.
“So, what do we do?” said the tuba player. “Any ideas, guys?”
“Hey, it’s the Beer Barrel Polka!” I shouted. “Let’s roll out the barrel of fun!”
We tapped another keg and partied hard with Jimmy.
The next morning, we all envied Jimmy, being too dead to be hung over.

The Bag

605014

I am sitting on a park bench, and a really nasty, grizzled bum sits down on the park bench next to me.
He raises a paper bag to his face every few seconds.
I try to ignore him, but I just want to yell at the guy to go away… leave… go drink in some alley.
Before I can say anything, he takes the bottle out of the bag and offers me the bag.
“You look like you’re about to hyperventilate,” he says. “Breathe into this a few times and you’ll feel better.”
Then he gets up and walks away.

Cookiegammon

605019

I like to play backgammon, but instead of checkers, I use cookies.
You just have to make sure that the cookies are different colors. Otherwise, you can’t tell which are your cookies and which are mine.
If you like Nutter Butters, then I’ll use Oreos.
I like Oreos.
We can put the cookies on the board, roll dice, and play until it’s time to bear the cookies off.
Every cookie you bear off, you get to eat.
Yummy!
Of course, eating 15 cookies can make you feel really sick.
Now you know why I don’t play with a doubling cube.

The Milk of The Storm

605028

Why do people rush to buy milk before a snowstorm?
This, we do not know. The invaders stole and destroyed many historical tapestries, and the oral tradition is lost.
Still, when the weather gets cold and the radio says it will blizzard, we rush to buy milk.
Even the lactose intolerant. The urge is deep in our blood. It is second-nature, like sneezing or smiling at babies.
When the snowdrifts rise against windows, we sit in the dark, starting at the milk.
It just sits there… until we pour in cereal…
Like firecrackers! Gunshots!
FIESTA TIME!
Viva la breakfast resolution!

The Clock Struck

603023

Commissioner Gordon handed Batman the note.
“At half-past twelve, the clock stuck three,” said The Caped Crusader.
“What does that mean?” growled Chief O’Hara.
“I don’t know,” said Batman. “But it’s almost twelve-thirty now.”
Across the street, an explosion rocked the First City Bank Tower.
All three ran to the window, just as the building’s massive clock broke from its moorings and crashed through the office.
Batman. O’Hara. Gordon.
Dead.
Later that evening, Riddler and Joker divvied up the loot.
“I told you it would work,” said the Clown Prince Of Crime. ”Hey, let’s go kill Superman.”
They both laughed.

The River Ice

605020

One day, the river was flowing.
The next, the river was covered with a sheet of ice.
I have never watched a river freeze.
So, when I heard that the forecast called for a deep freeze, I got bundled up and headed out to the river to watch.
The temperature dropped quickly, and I could see my breath through the scarf.
Snow falls, I can see white on the riverbanks… then dark shapes in the dark, shimmering water.
My eyes are heavy with the cold, but I still watch.
The shimmering water slows, until…
Until I have frozen to death.

Weekly Challenge #198 – Haggis

7765157

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Ninety-Eight, 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 Haggis!
The excellent theme music is by Guy David.
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
Taylor
Steven
Zachmann
Almo
Katharina
Anima
Mick
JRadimus
TJ
Norval Joe
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

Taylor

Charlie the Gnome had been working hard all morning.
First he went to the market and traded what donuts he had for the
ingredients. Then back in his small cottage he had soaked and roasted
and chopped and mixed and stuffed the various items until he had
several plump round sausage. Finally, he put them in a pot of boiling
water. Their foul smell filled the cottage.
Charlie went outside. He looked lovingly at his ravaged donut orchard.
In a couple of hours her could hang the Haggis among the donut trees.
That should keep the Bugbears away, Charlie thought.

Steven

“Welcome to Haggis Anonymous. My name’s Bob.”
“Hi, Bob,” the crowd said.
“It started with bridies and a utilikilt,” Bob said. “Just a little
something at the Renfair. Then I tried blood pudding – and liked it.”
Murmurs of sympathy came from the seated members.
“Before long, I wore tartan and piped bagpipe music into my office.”
Bob paused. “I’m a dentist.”
The others contemplated the combined horror.
“Then I ate haggis. Every meal. Snacks, even,” Bob said. “I went
clean one year ago.”
“How?” the new kid asked.
Bob smiled. “Eating the closest thing to haggis that isn’t. Hotdogs.”

Zachmann

Today we play our favorite game, “You taste it before we tell you what is in it”. Remember when you thought Chocolate meat had chocolate in it? You might like this as much as balut. Smell the aroma. Tastes It. Does it tastes good? Are you sure you want to know what is in it? It is like sausage made of sheep with oatmeal and onions then cooked in the natural casing of a sheep’s intestine. Now will you want haggis as often as you ask for Okonomiyaki, if there are any leftovers we can put it in Okonomiyaki.

Almo

Having no female heirs, James R. McTavish laid down in his will that a closely held family recipe for haggis would go to cousin Mavis.
Mavis looked sheepish. “Haggis?” she asked.
Jim Junior whispered in her ear. Mavis, a dyed-in-the-wool vegetarian made a horrible face.
Much to everyone’s surprise, Mavis took the recipe and opened a chain of Scottish restaurants.
“I never thought she’d have the guts,” said Jim, who invested much of the family fortune.
Two months later, Mavis was on the lam, absconding with the money.
“Certainly pulled the wool over my eyes,” Jim lamented.

Katharina

The handcuffs felt cold against her wrists – almost like a new bracelet.
She figured they must be real ones, even though she wasn’t able to see
anything through the blindfold. There was a sweet, chocolatey smell in
the air – she soon found out why when the sauce dripped onto her chest.
His tongue was soft on her skin, then she felt his finger on her lips.
When she opened her mouth, she felt his weight shift, as if he wanted to
feed her.
The very second the smell reached her nose, she shouted out loud…
“Haggis??? ARE YOU CRAZY!”

Anima

“You are trying my patience Jack, first with “getting back to your cultural roots” and now this “localvore” eating.
“Sorry, luv, but, ain’t they cute?”
“Yes, spring lambs are adorable, but soon they mature into summer sheep, then they’re winter mutton. Where are you going to keep ‘em? In the dog kennel?
Jack glances towards the spare bedroom – “You haven’t used the eliptical in a bit…”
No! Absolutely not. No way am I going to pretend our three story walk up is a croft on the moors just so you can make haggis for Burns Night next January, Jack Shay.

Mick

“Shush, Jamie, ye’ll scare them awa’,” said Auld Tam.
“But uncle, the haggis…” insisted Jamie.
“Hold yer weesht, boy. Dinnae frighten them!”
“Uncle Tam, you wanted to know when the delivery came,” said the boy,
hauling a clear plastic bag full of intestines onto the table. Tam
gave the boy a deep scowl and pointed to the door.
Jamie’s shoulders drooped as he walked off. “Shall I put the oatmeal
and sheeps’ stomachs for the haggis through here too?” he asked.
Tam abandoned his story and buried his head in his hands as the
tartan-clad crowd of tourists fled, green-faced and retching.

JRadimus

Have you ever wondered where those disgusting cultural delicacies came from? Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway:
Every culture hates or fears foreigners, and each developed a way to intimidate them. Drinking games didn’t last long. It became a contest of edible one-up-man’s-ship, a culinary arms race, a game of gastronomic chicken. But you won’t recognize any chicken on that battlefield. The Britons have Blood Pudding. Hispanics have Menudo. Southerners have Chitlins. The Scots entered the war with Haggis. Koreans have Kimchi. The world didn’t know what to do when the Chinese brought animal penises. An immediate armistice was demanded.

TJ

It’s untested! You mustn’t!
Chocolatier Charlie Bucket’s fanciful R&D department was at a loss for fresh ideas. So he dipped into that tired old “golden ticket” well once more, summoning children to the chocolate factory.
The winners were as hopeless as ever. Among them, Scots McTavish grabbed a hunk of red glop on a counter and ate it. In theory, you ate it and tasted whatever you most wanted to.
“Mmm … mother’s haggis,” he began, and then stopped as he became encased in a sac. In reality, everyone tasted haggis. Because they became haggis. The oompah-loompahs rolled him away.

Norval Joe

Robert sat at the table and glared irritably across the food at his parents.
“I hate Haggis,” he said.
His mother looked surprised and asked, “Why do you say that, Robert?”
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. ” I mean, who cares if Harry, Hermoine, and Ron love him so much. He’s stupid and irrisponsible. I don’t see why Dumbledorf keeps him around.”
“Dear, the character in the Harry Potter books is Hagrid. Haggis is a traditional scottish dish made from sheep guts, onions and oatmeal.”
“Oh. Well then. Compared to that, Hagrid’s not such a bad guy.”

Planet Z

I won an all-expenses paid trip to Scotland.
I saw the castles, the moors… the whole works.
I even ate haggis.
I found it delicious.
After I cleared my third plate, I asked the waiter what kind of animal a haggis is.
“It’s a fierce and vicious animal,” he said. “They use the guts for food and the skins and bones for bagpipes.”
“Hunt?” I asked.
I love to hunt.
So, I’m out on the moors, shotgun in one hand and pair a metal spoons in the other, smacking them against my leg.
SHHHH! What was that?

The Cheese

605017

Sister Hexx warns me that the cheese can be dangerous.
Lord, was she ever so right.
I opened the refrigerator door and reached for the cheese.
I had a cheese knife.
The cheese had a gun.
You know, my doctor had said that cheese was bad for me, but who listens to their doctor?
He said the same with red meat.
I look out the window, a slab of red meat behind the wheel of a Buick, circling the block.
The dent in the hood, the cracked windshield.
I was lucky, yes, but one day my luck will run out.