Mother of monsters

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Cynthia, quite literally, gave birth to the Teratagenic Art Movement.
She’d get pregnant and then take a whole series of birth defects-causing chemicals.
Once the “artwork” was ready, she’d have a late-term abortion and have the monstrosity preserved in a jar.
She was quite a prolific artist, splashing life and death on her revolting canvases.
When menopause finally hit, she realized that she had birthed no heir to pass her craft to.
Nor would any right-minded agency allow her to adopt.
Students came and students went, but the chemicals eventually killed Cynthia.
And the Art Movement with her, thank God.

Private Time

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Let’s give a big hand to Houston Keys for a fun 100 word story that’s all about family.

Being the father of a large family took it’s toll on Jim. He often sought out refuge in the only place a fifty year old father of five could go for quiet, the bathroom.
It had it’s downsides as Jim had hemorrhoids the size of dogs and he carried the smell of Charmin and feces with him.
The final straw came when he locked himself in the toilet for eight hours straight, ignoring the cries of the bowels of his family. Taking a play from Janet Reno they cut power to the bathroom and charged the door in riot gear.

Retentive Red

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Red was a man who believed in an orderly life.
Perhaps it was his military background, but for whatever reason, it was “a place for everything, and everything in its place.”
His gun cabinet was carefully arranged, weapons sorted by type and caliber. You could eat off the floor of his garage…provided you cleaned up afterwards.
And his butt-plugs? Meticulously shelved by size.
To those who questioned his orderly outlook, Red would always say, “There’s nothing wrong with being a little anal.”
To those who questioned his personal proclivities, Red would always say, “There’s nothing wrong with a little anal.”

Fishes and Loaves

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You’d think being Jesus Christ’s roommate would be cool, right?
Wrong, man. The guy’s seriously fucked up.
First off, the shit he does with his pet goldfish. He brings his friends over, multiples the thing, and eats all of the fishes alive except one.
Sticks that last one back in the fishbowl for the next time.
Then there’s the toaster. Sticks two slices of bread in the thing, thousands of slices pop out.
Crumbles it all up to feed the birds in the park.
I’d throw him out, but he keeps promising to cure my leprosy.
He never does, though.

The Stopped-Up Watch

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From the look on his face, Edwin hasn’t taken a dump for over a week.
From the numbers on his wristwatch, you’d be right.
You see, he keeps a running timer on his wristwatch to count the time since his last dump, and right now it’s saying a week.
When he takes a dump, he resets it.
But not recently. Since he hasn’t taken a dump.
Wait – he’s running off to the bathroom.
You’ll probably be able to tell by Edwin’s face if he’s taken a dump.
As long as it’s been, he may not remember to reset the watch.

The Lever

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For Archimedes’ birthday, we all chipped in and got him a lever.
“Is it long enough to move the world?” we asked him.
“It’s looks long enough,” he said, holding it in his hands. “Let’s find out.”
Archimedes put it down, spat into his hands, and rubbed them together. Then, he picked the lever back up and began to dig it into the ground with all of his might.
“Can you feel the world moving?” asked Archimedes.
Just then, an earthquake struck Athens. Many were killed.
For the safety of all, the lever was melted down into various homoerotic trinkets.

The Locker

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The custodian at the gym heard the too-familiar banging and yelling from the locker room.
“Not again,” he groaned.
He went to his tool chest, pulled out the bolt cutters, and headed to Davey Jones’ Locker.
Davey Jones was pounding on the door, calling the combination lock a backstabbin’ scurvy dog.
“Please stop that, Mr. Jones,” said the custodian. “I’m just going to have to bend all that metal back.”
The custodian snipped off the padlock and opened the locker. “Have you ever thought about just using a lock with a key?” he said.
At least he tipped in gold.

Weekly Challenge #22 – A Bloody Hook!

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Welcome to the twenty-second Weekly Challenge, 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 selected by last week’s winner Planet Z: a bloody hook.
Sixteen stories were submitted this week.
Two rookies this week. Yay!
And, as always, the usual madness by Planet Z.
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

Who had the best story for the 22nd Weekly Challenge?
Rahel from Elms in the Yard
Sister Mary Edith
William W
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
TA Marquette from Footnote
Laieanna
Andrew from Dodgeblogium
Jim P.
Rona from Give The Dog A Blog
Caroline from Quadra
Houston Keys from Tater Tots For the Masses
Lisa from Lemons and Lolipops
Kolek from The Kolektive
Tommy from KAG Report
Cynthia
Elisson from blog d’Elisson
The Mystery Man From Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


The full text to each story…
RAHEL

The deed was done, and it looked like Albert would get away with it.
He took off his coat and inspected it. No blood. Nevertheless, he would give it to be dry-cleaned tomorrow, along with everything he was wearing.
Quickly Albert changed into a t-shirt and jeans, reaching for the baseball cap hanging on a brass hook near the door, accidentally brushing his little finger against it, not noticing the stain.
How strange, he thought as the metal door clanged shut behind him several days later, that such a tiny drop of blood should contain enough DNA to kill him.

SISTER MARY EDITH

Allison stabbed again and again until the sharp hook was bloody. She hissed with pain and squinted through the tears, desperately trying to hit the mark. She could feel blood trickling down her neck and over her hands, making the hook slippery and her stabs even more clumsy. Blotches of crimson spattered the white porcelain as at last the tip caught and she felt the ripping of flesh as the hook tore through her ear lobe. She slowly lowered her shaking hands and examined her ear in the mirror. “I am never letting my piercing grow closed again!” she resolved.

CALEB

As he lay dying his throat torn open by a bloody hook he remembered back to his fatal mistake earlier that night.
He was hosting an open mic and there was the most horrifyingly bad act up there playing this god-awful song. He said, “Oh for Christ’s sake, get a bloody hook and pull this clown off the stage!”
Ironically, the last thing he saw was a bloody hook as it tore him to pieces outside the bar.
Hell hath no fury like a singer-songwriter scorned.
I can’t blame him though. That song was terrible. It had no bloody hook!

T.A. MARQUETTE

The madman pounded on the windshield with his stump.
“My Hook’s caught in your car door”
“So.” Said Suzie
“Can you help me out here?”
“To HELL with your bloody hook!”
“Come On.” He begged
“Promise your not going to kill me.”
The madman crossed his heart with his stump
Smearing red goo all over his hoody.
Sue kicked open the door, catching stumpy square in the face
“I thought you were an Urban Myth, some sort of cautionary tale to instill minimal restrain during adolescent mating practices”
“Help,” cough stumpy.
“WHATEVER” sighed Suzie and kicked him in the balls.

LAIEANNA

He lost one in the side of a moving vehicle. He left one in a bedroom door with a note regarding his return. One even got stuck in the thigh of a fleeing teen.
The shopkeeper smiled up at him when the doorbell chimed. “Hiya Charlie! Back so soon?”
Charlie threw money down on the counter. “I need another one.”
“This’ll be your fourth one this week.” Said the shopkeeper, opening a drawer.
“I know. I just can’t seem to take that final step. Give me the bloody hook. Maybe they’ll see that and fall dead of a heart attack.”

ANDREW IAN DODGE

The bloody hook sat on the beach ready to be discovered by whomever ventured by. Its past covered in the midsts of time. Its path of death and the sea spanned several centuries. It helped many a sea-faring man defend himself against the kraken, the Deep Ones and whomever else tried to cross him. Many a pirate and cutthroat had tried to use it for ill over the millennia their demise hastened by its misuse. None ever examined the inside of the rusty hook…the ancient inscription it bore. For the hook only fought those who served the Great Old One.

JIM P.

Although I couldn’t see the hook, I felt it. The curved steel tore through my flesh; icy cold then warmed by a crimson sluice. My blood.
I could have avoided that fate if I’d only stopped to think. Then there were no thoughts, only red fear and shredding pain. I thrashed wildly while the hook relentlessly pulled.
Then I saw him – the man who chose to murder me. I gasped for breath as sausage fingers grabbed the hook.
Suddenly, he tossed me back in the water, leaving these scars to remind me that tasty minnows aren’t made from shiny metal.

RONA

“I can’t do it,” she said. “I know that ‘Peter Pan’ is a children’s story, but I can’t take my children to a show where there’s a pirate with a bloody hook at the end of his arm.”
“I understand,” he said. “We have to be very careful of what we allow the children to see. We don’t want them to grow up warped. We need to make sure that they feel secure and safe. We need to protect them from violence.”
“Agreed,” she said. “So turn off that football game and come in for dinner.”

CAROLINE OF QUADRA

I’m Caroline. Here is the news.
We have just had a report coming in of a tsunami about to hit Quadra Island. Everyone is advised to don green wellies, turn up at the hall and dance until you swim.
We shall be giving out reports of this as more news comes in.
And finally, breaking news is coming in from the palace. Reportedly the Queen found Prince Philip cavorting with the kitchen maid. She gave him a right bloody hook and sacked the maid.
That is all for tonight. Until next week thank you goodnight and God bless the Queen.

HOUSTON KEYS

It was boogie fever as the disco pulsed and throbbed into the night air. It had been placed a few hundred yards from the local pet hospital and kept the cats up all night causing them to wail into the cold London night air.
Finally the owner could take no more and stormed to the front of the disco demanding to see the owner. A hairy, gold medallion wearing stud met him and faced off.
“What do you mean a bloody hook? Do you mean like Bootsie Collins and George Clinton?”
Seconds later he found out what kind of hook.

LISA

The moment he laid eyes on her, he knew he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted another. But she was in love with that bastard Peter, who was always ruining things for him, running around showing off in his little tight clothes. Damn him!
He decided to challenge Peter to a duel. They fought furiously and finally, he defeated Peter once and for all.
Afterward, he still hesitated to ask Wendy out, for fear of rejection. When asked by his good pal why, he replied “I just have such a hard time with the ladies. It’s this bloody hook”

KOLEK

The General and his enemy have only been throwing feints at one another, but that was about to change. He saw an opportunity ahead; he quickly drew his plans.
The General moved his vanguard aside. As planned, his enemy threw a heavy assault straight at his exposed front in response.
He dodged as best he could, but still he took a painful blow. However, the enemy’s right flank was now exposed.
Mustering his reserves, The General released a bloody hook and his enemy collapsed in confusion.
Mike “The General” Bryant won the boxing match, knowing that even in close-quarters, strategy was crucial.

TOMMY

They cost five dollars each and he bought them by the dozen. The rest of his items, old shirts from goodwill, cheap roasts from the butcher, he only bought when needed.
His friends all thought he should find a better use for his time.
Maybe they were right. But they were his friends so he wasn’t sure he trusted their judgment.
He pulled the chair to the table. The assembly was the hard part, just the right amount of shirt sleeve and raw meat. But it was worth it on Saturday night, hanging a bloody hook on every car door.

CYNTHIA

As he arrived on the scene, the detective could tell from the forlorn expressions on the others faces that this was no ordinary homicide. As he walked into the bedroom where the murder had taken place, he gasped. He knew his response was quite audible as it reverberated off the walls into his ear.
The room was splattered in blood. The bedspread, which had been white, was now a deep crimson. He glanced at the covered lump in the middle of the floor. He could only imagine what horror lie beneath. Not 10 feet away, lay a glistening bloody hook

WILLIAM W

“Sherry!”
“Yes, love.”
“I need your help in the garage for a minute, OK?”
“OK.”
“I’m trying to straighten out this bent thingamajig.
I’ll just get under here and set it up.
You wait by the Jeep and start the winch when I say so…
-OK, now press the button!”
“Now?”
“Yes!”
“OK…”
“AAAAARGH!!!!, STOP! STOP! STOP!”
Franticly, she tried to halt the winch, but it just kept going!
Sherry watched in horror, as the spool continued slowly revolving until it was fully retracted.
It stopped unceremoniously with a clunk.
At the end of the cable, there dangled …A BLOODY HOOK!”

ELISSON

Charlie had been fishing all day without so much as a nibble.
He had been at his favorite spot since before dawn, casting. No luck.
Frustrated at the complete lack of action, he neglected his lunch. By late afternoon,his empty belly – and the dozen cans of beer he had swilled – made him nearly faint with hunger.
As he waded ashore, he saw the sandwich. Thick, bursting with meat and cheese, it was irresistible. Charlie grabbed it and bit in.
A hot bolt of pain shot through his cheek and an inexorable tug dragged him towards the water.

PLANET Z

Hanging from Dale’s rear view mirror was… a bloody hook.
Ned didn’t like it. “Why not have an air freshener?” he asked.
“I hate pine,” said Dale.
“Yankee Candle has so many scents,” said Ned. “I use Pumpkin Spice during the holidays.”
“I don’t want any scent,” said Dale.
“So why do you have a bloody hook instead of dice or Mardi Gras beads?” said Ned.
Dale put a flashlight under his face, turned to Ned, and said, “A long time ago, I-”
Then they crashed into a tree.
Paramedics arrived later, pulling their two corpses out of the wreck


Thanks to everyone for sending in their stories, and I look forward to what you’ve got to write (and say) next week.
The theme for next week’s Weekly Challenge will be posted shortly.

Dancing Pinhead

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Gabriel landed at Heaven’s gates and screamed with agony, tucking into a ball and clutching his shredded, bloody sandals.
“So, did you find out how many of you can dance on the head of a pin?” asked Jesus.
“The head of a pin?” groaned Gabriel. “Wait… that’s the round flat part of it, right? And not the sharp pointy end?”
“You’re going to need new sandals, aren’t you?” Jesus sighed.
Gabriel crawled to the Quartermaster.
Jesus pulled out God’s Big Ledger Of Mysteries, wrote “It takes two to tango” in it by Angels Dancing On Pinhead, and snapped it shut.

Shadow Birthday

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When Bob had his birthday birthdays, he always shared it them with his shadow.
Happy Birthday, Bob!
All of Bob’s friends would come over for cake and ice cream, and so did their shadows for the shadows of cake and ice cream.
Bob blew out the candles, and so did his shadow on the wall.
It was a race between Bob and his shadow to see who could open presents faster. It was always a tie.
Sometimes there was a goofy clown. Other times, a magician showed up to work his magic.
One year, a strange man came to make interesting shadow puppets.
The shadows of Bobby and his friends were entertained by the hands of the puppet-master.
Why? Well, since when have you seen a rabbit or duck turn into a pair of writhing hands?