Weekly Challenge #2 – Five Minutes Late

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Welcome to the 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 is: five minutes late.
You have until midnight on Friday the 28th to email me your story.
It would be preferred that you attach your own recording of the story, but if I have the time I will record and include all of the contributed stories in a single collection, which will be posted next Saturday.
If this takes off and there’s a healthy amount of participation, I may go ahead with my plans to create 100 Words Or Les Nessman 2.0. (With weekly themes instead of daily themes to cut down on burnout and attrition.)
Good luck, and feel free to e-mail me with any questions you have.

Midnight came, and midnight went. Time’s up!
There were 8 stories this week. Go ahead and listen to the stories (click on the grammy-o-phone icon there on the left side of this entry) and vote for your favorite:

Who wrote the best story?
Elisson of Blog d’Elisson
Rahel Jaskow of Elms in the Yard
Andrew Ian Dodge of Dogeblogium
Jim S. the Folderman
Jim Thompson of Making Movies
Rona
Beck of Incite
The Mystery Man from Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


Thanks to everyone for sending in their stories, and I look forward to what you’ve got to write (and say) next week.

Rage

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Jim S. the Folderman experiences white-hot rage…

I’ve known a few moments of momentary satisfaction at a beautiful day or a gorgeous woman. Happy moments like the birth of my children, my wedding day and other things such as that briefly pierce through the shroud of doubt, confusion, melancholoy and… RAGE.
Yes, rage. I know it comes as a deep surprise but I’m a mad motherfucker. Just plain mad at the world. Overall, I’ve learned to live with it and usually, I manage to hold it back long enough to enjoy some happy moments.
Mostly, though, it just embitters me and makes me a jaded, cynical bastard.

Help Me

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Andrew Ian Dodge waxes poetically:

How can I get forward
When trapped by my past
Trying to look ahead
Instead of covering my arse
Demons & devils haunt me
Trying to get their desire
Not letting me free
Refusing to let me be
Wanting their bit of flesh
Deserved or not no matter
Things in chaos & mess
Trouble, bother & loads of stress
Evil & madness pursue
Pain & pressure ensue
Save me from this madness
All the terrible badness
Revenge & payback can wait
Free me afore its too late
Revenge & payback can wait
Free me afore its too late

Got Jesus?

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Yesterday, as the Missus and I were on our way to dinner, we saw a car in front of us with a decal in the rear window: Got Jesus?
It was clear, based on its design, that the decal was Yet Another Ripoff of the well-known “Got Milk?” advertising campaign, the one featuring celebrities sporting Milk Moustaches.
The Missus asked: When you Get Jesus, do you get a Jesus Moustache? And if you do, what color is it?
I’m no expert, but I’d say that between Ash Wednesday and Easter, you have a purple mustache…but on Easter, it turns white.

Alarming behavior

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Typical alarm clocks can be turned off with a single button.
On the other hand, the alarm clock function on my cell phone requires me to hit… let’s see: 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10 buttons.
Of course, there’s the much simpler option to press and hold the power button to turn the phone completely off before the alarm sounds.
I suppose that’s why I pulled out my phone at 10:30 today and it’s completely off.
Which is why I got a watch. To tell time when my cell phone is off.
This is how my mind works. Or, in this case, fails to work.

Below Average

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Unlike our neighbors’ kids, all of the children in Lake Whybehere are below average. They’re all good children, but just a little behind the curve. A few seconds late off the starting blocks in the game of life.
Their conversations are enthusiastic, but babble. Their play is confused and often ends in medical treatment.
Most suffer from lethargy, but a few demonstrate occasional spunkiness. Like running in circles with scissors faster than usual.
Maybe there’s something in the water. The power plant dumps an awful lot of crap into Lake Whybehere.
Perhaps we’ll dump it in Wobegone from now on.

The Successful Rodent

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It happened that there were two mouse-brothers.
Life was hard for these mice. Vicious cats roamed the neighborhood; other animals constantly made life difficult.
There was the duck, all harsh voice and shrill temper.
There were the dogs. One, though he could speak the language of people, was so dimwitted as to be a danger to himself and others. The other was, after all, a dog, and what dog does not enjoy sport with helpless mice?
It all changed when brother Mickey, after lengthy study, procured a Steamboat Operator’s License.
Moral: Wish upon a star, my ass. Study to succeed!

Enough

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My people, they are a stiff-necked people.
Been that way for thousands of years. Back in the Sinai days, Moses had it all figured out. You think he climbed up Mount Nebo to die, giving up on his dream to enter the Promised Land just because God told him to?
Think again.
He simply couldn’t stand any more of the constant bitching, whining, and nagging.
“It was better back in Egypt.” “This manna sucks! I want meat!” “I’m thirsty!” “We’re all gonna die!
So Moses said, “Enough, already!”
Can’t say I blame him. Other people may complain, but Jews harp.

Where there’s smoke, there’s Walter

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The old saying goes “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire.”
Around here, it goes “Where there’s smoke, there’s Walter.”
Walter smokes. Walter smokes a lot.
I can’t remember any time when I’ve seen Walter not smoking.
Once, I saw Walter asleep at a bar, and his hand reached into his mouth, pulled out his exhausted cigarette, stubbed it out in the ashtray, pulled another from his pack, lit it, and stuck it in his mouth.
Which is why I opened up the coffin and stuck a cigarette in his mouth.
How was I to know someone had dowsed him in gasoline?

Div

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Andrew Ian Dodge tells the vicious tale of Div…

Div was thrown a curve when he learned Robbie Williams was coming back to Take That. His killing spree the last time was after the singer left the group. He did it to keep TT going after Williams left the fold. His only hope is that Robbie was not “Back for Good’ so he could kill again. Div was upset; he so enjoyed his murdering; it gave him a thrill so missing in his life. Frustrated Div tossed the balled up paper into the fire…as his last victim burnt to a crisp. This bottle of gasoline had seen to that.