Weekly Challenge #67 – Fatal Wound

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Welcome to the sixty-seventh 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 Laieanna of Hodgepodge Point: Fatal Wound.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
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):

What were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #67?
Stuart Warf of The Ten Cast
Tom from Footnote Podcast
Laieanna of HodgePodge Point
Sarah
Guy David from The Sixteenth
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
JD
Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


STUART

The couple argued intensely as former lovers with passion as fiery than any other relationship anyone ever saw quickly descended into a flaring argument that could be heard down the streets of Brooklyn.
He said, She said thats how it goes. He smashes the glass bottle, she screams in anguish and pain
His body fell still, He could hardly believe his eyes at what devious act he had just watched and committed. It all happened so fast and then crashed into slow motion like out of a Hollywood blockbuster.
The blood begins to drip like raindrops on his cold skin.

TOM

The titanium rail gun’s sight was centered on that Austrian Art School
want-a-be prick. Wolfgang Z14 contently smiled as he pulled the trigger a
fatal wound for a future Führer. Within Z’s brain the holocaust vanished
replaced by a 1000 years of Pax Zionose Europa.
The spinning mangled marionette of a man suddenly righted himself, woundless.
Wolfgang Z tried to blink but failed to close his lids before he vanished.
The dead returned to dead, the unborn remained unborn, a golden Europe became
gray. When the time rift settled the last of Hitler’s genetic pool reappeared
and took aim again.

LAIEANNA

Ours was an epic battle that raged through timeless years, never ending, never slowing, but we were losing to our enemy. They were constantly changing with the centuries, inventing destruction in bigger, more powerful ways. And yet it was the simplest of weapons that we truly feared. We, on the other hand, always remained the same.
My day to fall came when one of their foot soldiers took an axe to my side. I awakened to the pain of cold steel vibrations. The wound was my end. With a push, I went down to the sounds of his triumph.
“Timber!”

GUY

There was a strange buzz sound. Something was definitely wrong. The microphone was not supposed to make such a sound. Than it made a gurgling noise. I thought “that is strange”, then I looked closely and, suddenly I could see it, the microphone was wounded, and… it was a fatal wound.
I gave it a decent burial. It was still young, but I have already grown attached to it. I’m now using an old mike I found laying somewhere around the house, but, it’s not the same. I shell always remember it fondly. That mike was such a dear friend.

CALEB

I told her that my love for her was like a fatal wound and that only she could save a life. That she was the balm in Gilead; that the power of love over death was in her hand and her hand only. But she just laughed. She didn’t care if I lived or if I died. So I am very sorry for everything. I’m sorry that such extreme measures had to be taken but be assured that it could’ve been avoided. Take that, you heartless bitch! I never said it was MY life she could save. I’m not crazy.

SARAH

She sat in the room quietly crying.
Crying like she had cried all those times he never came home.
Crying, like those tears would bring him home to her again.
Out of the arms of those other women who ‘meant nothing to him’.
She sat in the room staring at the picture of happier times.
“Fuck him” she muttered through the snot dripping from her nose.
She picked herself up and walked to the doorframe.
She slowly placed the noose around her head.
“You were never worth it…..”
Who would have thought a broken heart could be a fatal wound??

JD

Yesterday, while walking home from the bus stop, I bumped into God. I know, your going to say “God!”, but before you do let me tell you that he didn’t even say “excuse me.” Well, here is God walking down the street, not paying attention to anything, in his own little world and, bam, down I go in a heap on the sidewalk. I know, I know, your going to say “But that was God!” Well, I say, the heck with predestination, from now on I go with free will and it should be a week before his shiner goes away.

Z

The difference between a knockout punch and a fatal wound is a proud opponent who doesn’t have the sense to get out of the ring when he’s beat.
It helps if you’ve got a referee who’s trying to keep the fight going for the television network coverage instead of stopping it when over is over.
Coaches factor in, too. Telling your fighter to dehydrate himself to fool the scale ends up leaving him too weak to fight, too weak to fight back.
A whole lot of brain damage.
Kim went fourteen rounds with Mancini and went home in a box.


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.


Podcast Ready is holding a contest for referrals and signups using their very cool podcatching software.
I’ve been using that software for well over a year, and I absolutely love it. I just pop Ziggy’s chip into my system, let it sync up, and then put the chip back in the phone… no more hassles with downloading podcasts manually.
Want to see me win? Just sign up for PodcastReady using the promotional code CRAP to sign up, or edit your profile to use the promotional code CRAP.
To edit your profile:

  1. Go to PodcastReady
  2. Sign in with your username and password
  3. Click on Preferences
  4. Scroll down to Promo Code and type in CRAP
  5. Click on the OK button.

Isn’t that simple?

Weekly Challenge #66 – Driving 150MPH

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Welcome to the sixty-sixth 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 Tom from Footnote: Driving 150MPH.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
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 stories in Weekly Challenge #66?
Laieanna from Hodgepodge Point
Tom from Footnote Podcast
Mike of the Mike Thinks Podcast
Guy David from Guy David dot com
Daphne from Going Broke
Brett from Syril Ram
Rocky Torok
Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


LAIEANNA

Bowling night was canceled when Wilma insisted Fred drive her to Stone-Mart for some grocery shopping. That meant traveling across the Gravelway on a busy Saturday. Fred growled his protest, but they eventually piled into the car.
It was as bad as he thought with gridlock and dumb drivers. Fred’s rage peaked. He pumped his legs harder, watching the worm spin on the odometer as he zipped between cars. Wilma screamed. Pebbles cried. Fred was determined.
They got there in record time. Fred smiled at his accomplishment and fell out of the car, dragging his bloody stumps towards the store.

TOM

The last weld to the undercarriage was completed. The seat was encased in the center of the cage and it in turn bolted to a dozen points within the Impala. Four harnesses would be enough he thought
It was hard to maneuver with the reduction gears on the steering column. At 125 the vibration made it hard to see. Passing 150 mph he pressed the ignition to the JATO tube.
The Highway Patrol pulled a left molar from 125 feet up the cliff. We at the Darwin Awards Salute those who improve our gene pool by removing themselves from it

MIKE JAMES

Driving 150, its not really that quick
Honking and swerving are my favorite trick.
Faster is better, thats my way of thinking
Though you cant tell , I haven’t been drinking.
you cant hardly tell,what they yell as I pass
Can’t seem to hear them, through my tinted glass
Don’t these fools know Ive got places to be.
Starbucks, Cell depot and Panera bakery
So sure, my weaving and screeching and swerving,
can seem self righteous and somewhat unnerving.
I do strive for safty, to hit no one at all
But my tires just don’t grip, when inside the mall.

GUY DAVID

Space was heavy with debris. We had to steer carefully. Captain was forced almost to a crawl, 150, no kidding. Me was holding the banister. Good boy I am. Make no trouble. Do what I’m told. Then, red button called, said “push me, push me Moris”, so I pushed. There was a splash, and the spaceship stopped. Captain yelled. I had strange noise in my head, was seeing red, so I zapped him, I zapped them all, then blow a hole in outer shell. Now I alone, no one disturb my peace. How I love peace and quiet of space.

DAPHNE

I finally told him what he wanted to hear. He was so excited he couldn’t breathe at first then said he’d be here in half an hour, after all these years he wasn’t going to wait any longer and the first night of the rest of our lives will start when he knocks on the door. He lives 75 miles away even if he hit the lights and the traffic right, he can’t get here sooner then an hour and half. I have some time to get ready. For him get here in half and hour he would have to be…

BRETT

3 hours. 500 miles. she’s leaving soon. Driving 150MPH. Passing lane. ! No time to swerve. Sorry. Roadkill. Gas station. Fill up; wash tires. $32.02. 1.98 change. Vroom. Seen burning fires, desert, blue clouds, break ups, debris; in brief periods. Airport. Crowds. Parked On Foot. Key in Shoe. Bathroom stall. Palmed key retrieves locker contents. Torn page; Jennifer’s black book. Cell. Driving. Jen: …NO!!!”. Hang up. Map. Arrive. Parallel Park. Fresh Air. Birds. “Hello”. Ran down hall. Locked door. “Knock knock”. My pistol breaks lock. Alexander: “Who?”. I pull hammer back. He escapes. “My hero. I love you, Uncle Unschkidaunt.”

ROCKY

To whom it may concern.
I recently had my wheelchair upgraded by your company.
I did not ask for the turbocharged package, and I refuse to pay for it.
I am by no means a rocket scientist, but I do know that this baby should not be cruising at 150 miles per hour!
Along with downgrading my ride, I will also insist that you replace my soiled underwear!
I would also suggest replacing poor Mrs. Johnson’s cat.
Oh my God! I don’t know if this was some kind of sick joke, but I don’t think it’s funny. I’d kick someone’s ass if I could.
Thank you.
Sincerely,
Stephen Hawking

Z

My name is Hoke. I’ve been hired to drive Miss Daisy around.
She didn’t like me at first, but we’ve grown close over the years.
Every week, she has me drive her to some Jewish church for services. Doing those Jew things.
Well, one time, it took her a little while longer to fix herself up, and we were late.
So, I put the pedal to the metal, and we screamed down the highway, needle throbbing at the 150 mark.
Daisy got to her services, but the cops busted me.
Now I’m spending time with my Cousin Red at Shawshank.


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.


Podcast Ready is holding a contest for referrals and signups using their very cool podcatching software.
I’ve been using that software for well over a year, and I absolutely love it. I just pop Ziggy’s chip into my system, let it sync up, and then put the chip back in the phone… no more hassles with downloading podcasts manually.
Want to see me win? Just sign up for PodcastReady using the promotional code CRAP to sign up, or edit your profile to use the promotional code CRAP.
To edit your profile:

  1. Go to PodcastReady
  2. Sign in with your username and password
  3. Click on Preferences
  4. Scroll down to Promo Code and type in CRAP
  5. Click on the OK button.

Isn’t that simple?

Weekly Challenge #65 – Tofu Pants

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Welcome to the sixty-fifth 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 Caleb Bullen from the Black Tie Martini Club: Tofu Pants.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
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):

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #65?
Tom from Footnote
Syril Ram
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club Oddcast
Terrence from Never Was
Laieanna from HodgePodge Point
Guy David at Guy David dot com
Daphne from Going Broke
Chris from Chris Carlisle.net
Alpha K-Nine
The Deranged Bard From Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


TOM

It was the Patchouli. It does things to the mind. Her name was River nose ring henna copy of Gibran on the redwood burl India bedspreads hanging from the ceiling clouds of sandalwood and a Krishna poster in the john. Ever try to take a leak with a blue god smile at you? Chanted a lot Om mahneypod me om. Was writing this book called the Sensual Vegan. Which is how I ended up in downtown Santa Cruz in a pair of tofus pants. As god is my witness your Honor I can explain the Calamari underwear and sushi garterbelt

SYRIL

We went to the discount erotic clothing shop in search of edible panties. A dollar was too expensive, so we bought 2 pairs of tofu pants for a quarter. They were half off. Damn rats!
We pulled them on and salivated. Wanting to touch and press up against each other. With her hairy, dirty crotch visible before my eyes, I hungered for that strange taste. Wanting to stick my tongue inside, like raw fish. Delicious, tempting, and satisfying.
Were it not for the shivering cold in the bleakest of winters, I would have eaten my first meal in four months.

CALEB

Tofu Pants always has to have a cause. He’s one of these, “impeach the whales, no nukes for Tibet, Save George Bush” bleeding heart liberals. For the last five or six years, he’s been annoying us all about global warming, peak oil, corruption in the white house and yeah, he turned out to be right about most of it but he’s SO annoying I hate him.
What’s worse? Now that basically the whole country agrees with his wacky Tofu Pants bullshit, he’s switched sides to be a Pro-War, Pro-Business Neo-Con. Rumor is… He’s getting the Democratic Nomination. Stupid Tofu Pants!

TERRENCE

Raoul hated fashion, but he had little choice but to keep up with at
least the basics. Given his life span, forever, he would have been
looking out of date a long time ago and that would just draw attention
he did not want.
So every couple of years he would go out to the local trendy shops.
He would talk to the sales people and he would select some new cloths.
He had survived through togas, powdered wigs and bell bottoms, but
this was the worst yet; who in their right mind would wear a pair of
tofu pants?

LAIEANNA

“Hiruko, you no good samurai. Have no honor. You bring sorrow to our women! Children fear honor of their name never be restored. You disgrace our clan! For this you shall wear the tofu pants of shame, walk village street, and bare the bites of dishonor.”
“The tofu pants of shame.”
“Yeah, make him wear the pants.”
“You bring shame on our house.”
“My cow die cause of you.”
“I take bite to get back honor.”
“You shame our village. No more show face in city.”
“Your disgrace make wife barren.”
“I get butt hair with bite.”
“That’s good tofu!”

GUY

We make edible clothings. We have strawberry t-shirts, pineapple shoes and chocolate hats. We have many lines of edible clothing, fit for any occasion.
Mind you, we don’t make those depraved sexually related under clothings. We are a good establishment and we renounce any such thing.
We do tend to our costumers health. That’s why we came up with our new health line of tofu clothings. Our new model of tofu pants is very popular amongst the young, and once you gnaw it down, you never want to have anything related to that deplorable sexual activity thing ever again.

DAPHNE

I had enough I was going to take my revenge. I read about Voodoo Dolls and started to melt wax to mold one. I ran out before it looked like him. It had to resemble the intended target so I rummaged around the kitchen to find something to finish the legs. Once it looked like him I started placing pins. The next day I saw him at the coffee shop, he looked fine but what I noticed was his pants. They looked like they were made from wasabi paste. That had to have itched. I just smiled that was a better choice than the tofu.

CHRIS

As the top fashion designer and cook in all of France, it was only natural that I would eventually combine these two talents. After many long hours in the kitchen and studio, my latest work is both a culinary and fashion masterpiece.
Ladies and gentlemen, I give you my latest creation: Tofu Pants! You can eat them, or you can wear them! I am le genius, no?
Although I don’t recommend you eat them after you wear them.
But ladies rest assured that whether you eat them or wear them, these tofu pants will not make your ass look fat.

ALPHA K NINE

I hated the deceased. I didn’t hate him when I killed
him. I didn’t hate him when he invaded my home. I
didn’t hate him for the color of his skin or the fact
that he threatened my life. I learned to hate him
later.
I learned to hate him after I was accused of murder.
I learned to hate him after he was dead.
He made me a killer. I am not now, nor have I ever
been, a murderer. I am a killer, though, now and
forever. He made me take a life, and doing so,
destroyed mine.

Z

When I was little my mother made me wear snow pants in the winter.
They were just leggings I wore over my jeans when the snowdrifts were high. But they were great for sliding down huge piles of snow that snowplows would push into sidewalks and driveways.
These days, whenever I go into the tofu processing tanks, I pull on my tofu pants and wade into the vast white piles.
There’s always a headcount of technicians going in and out of the tanks. Don’t want to lose anybody.
I mean, think of the scandal – meat in a batch of tofu!


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.


Podcast Ready is holding a contest for referrals and signups using their very cool podcatching software.
I’ve been using that software for well over a year, and I absolutely love it. I just pop Ziggy’s chip into my system, let it sync up, and then put the chip back in the phone… no more hassles with downloading podcasts manually.
Want to see me win? Just sign up for PodcastReady using the promotional code CRAP to sign up, or edit your profile to use the promotional code CRAP.
To edit your profile:

  1. Go to PodcastReady
  2. Sign in with your username and password
  3. Click on Preferences
  4. Scroll down to Promo Code and type in CRAP
  5. Click on the OK button.

Isn’t that simple?

Weekly Challenge #64 – Existential Ennui

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Welcome to the sixty-fourth 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 Caleb Bullen from the Black Tie Martini Club: Existential Ennui.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
SPECIAL ADDITION
Rich DeSoto/Palmer of Audio Gumshoe, That Tickles, and Open Microphone on Los Arboles in Second Life (Mondays at 6PM) took a parody set of lyrics of mine and turned them into a pretty cool song this week. I’ve tacked it on to the podcast right after Z’s story, and I think you’ll get a kick out of it.
VOTING
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 stories of Weekly Challenge #65?
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
Tom from Footnote Podcast
Laieanna of HodgePodge Point
Jenny the Bloggess
Guy David from The Sixteenth
Faldwin of 100 Words
Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


CALEB

Nelson Algren sat in his mother’s bar on Division Street in Chicago drinking and pondering Existential Ennui when suddenly Jean Paul Sartre came bursting in through the door six guns a blazing.
“Algren! I’m taking Simone with me and if you try to stop us, you’re a dead man!”
“You’re too late. She’s gone back to the continent with some guitar player or something. Here, let me buy you a drink”
And so Algren and Sartre sat in Phyllis’ Musical Inn on Division drinking and pondering existential ennui while Simone DeBauvior sat somewhere in their existential ennui regretting her divisions.

TOM

The view from the tiny pumphouse on the hill is like one perched on a random cornflake drifting in the center of the milk of a bowl of cereal. The rim of the valley surrounds with its California potato colored hills dotted with frog skin valley oaks. It is a quiet purposeful place with underlining communalism yet tempered with strong personal Existential possibilities. Tonight within these walls there is no solace. The end result of a year of dying has take its toll on the vibrant existential soul. You want Existential Ennui in a word I will call it cancer.

LAIEANNA

God blew more smoke out the crack of his window. Harry hated people
smoking in his car, but this was God. He wasn’t a person exactly and
could you tell him to stop?
“Why not?” God asked. Harry flinched at the mind reading. “You
believe you’re in control of your own life.”
“Well, maybe I’m tired of being in control. Look at this god
damn…sorry…traffic!”
“We’ve been carpooling together for five years and that’s the first
time you apologized.”
Harry just sighed. God smiled, lifted the car, and flew it to work.
“Welcome to the fold, my son.”

JENNY

I remember the first person I killed. Her name was Tifanee…with two
e’s. She made me so miserable in school. Made everyone miserable really.
Bitchy. Bitchy with two e’s. I felt a little bad about it later. Well
not really bad but bad for not feeling bad, you know? And then after that
was Stephen. “It’s not you, baby. It’s me.” Yeah, you and half the
cheerleading squad. Sometimes I wonder why I do this? Why I have to take
out the human trash. Maybe it’s better to forgive. Maybe I’m not the one
who’s supposed to be doling out justice.
But if I don’t…then who will?

GUY

I was just sitting, drinking tea with my good friend Lony, when she turns to me and says:
“Grandma Shunra, I can’t stand this existential ennui. We just spend our life turning people into things, selling them various potions and casting spells on them. There must be more to life than this”.
“Yes”, I said, “That is our life, take it or leave it, it’s not that as bad as you think. You should learn to except it. We do have more then most, you know”.
“But what good is it?” Lony asked, so, I turned her into a frog.

FALDWIN

When I first read the prompt for this weeks challenge my response was, in a word: “Huh?” A quick Google search revealed an article explaining the phenomenon. I would explain it, but I only have 100 words here. If a person finds themselves bored with life because everything is the same, they might, in an effort to cure that boredom, do something exciting and different. But if that person continues to do exciting things he might get bored with excitement. Then he will go back to doing the same thing over and over again and the cycle will begin anew.

Z

Jo says she’ll do you for the cost of weed, but there’s more to it than that.
She’ll want to talk. Sometimes an hour, sometimes more.
Camus, Sartre, Beauvoir – over and over.
Next thing you know, you’re both grinding away under the sheets.
Your mind’s been elsewhere, worthless in all this screwing.
You try to catch up, but she rolls you over. She’s finished.
And you look down – so are you.
Let me tell you: Existential ennui makes lousy foreplay, but I think she gets off on this whole thing.
She puts out, and yet, she keeps it to herself.


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.


Podcast Ready is holding a contest for referrals and signups using their very cool podcatching software.
I’ve been using that software for well over a year, and I absolutely love it. I just pop Ziggy’s chip into my system, let it sync up, and then put the chip back in the phone… no more hassles with downloading podcasts manually.
Want to see me win? Just sign up for PodcastReady using the promotional code CRAP to sign up, or edit your profile to use the promotional code CRAP.
To edit your profile:

  1. Go to PodcastReady
  2. Sign in with your username and password
  3. Click on Preferences
  4. Scroll down to Promo Code and type in CRAP
  5. Click on the OK button.

Isn’t that simple?

Weekly Challenge #63 – Sleepwalking

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Welcome to the sixty-third 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 Rocky from the Northwest Territories of Edloe Island: Sleepwalking.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
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):

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #63?
Jenny the Bloggess
Caleb Bullen from Black Tie Martini Club
Tom from Footnote
Elisson from blog d’Elisson
Guy David from The Sixteenth
Terrence from Never Was
Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
Chris from Platypus Society
Radar from SL Under The Radar
Justin from Random Thoughts
Mamacita from What Would Jane Austen Do?
The Deranged Bard From Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


JENNY

She didn’t used to be like this.
Before it happened, she was different.
The assault.
She doesn’t like the word, she doesn’t use it.
She’s very [deeply], and mostly, it doesn’t even exist.
She only remembers when she sees glimpses of the girl she once was. Old journals, vibrant photos from before.
A friend that she hasn’t seen since before it happened.
A friend who recognizes her face, but nothing behind it.
I watch her everyday in the mirror and subway reflections.
Her heels tap hypnotically in a rhythm that says “Not now. Not now.”
I wonder where she’s going.
I wonder who she is.

CALEB

I’m not God. Used to be but I gave it up. Those poor sleepwalking fools. Once a year I would appear to one and give them the chance to ask any one question. They mostly fell into one of three categories: The avaricious like, “what stocks should I buy?” The stupid, “When and how will I die?” and the ponderous, “what’s the meaning of life?”.
Finally this one cat asks me, “do you like your work?” I hadn’t thought about it much but it turned out, I didn’t, so I gave it up. Get more respect as a bartender anyway.

TOM

It was always on the coldest nights of the year. Lenore would wander across the stone floor in bear feet making her way to the ruin of the west tower. Dead to the world in a sleep as deep as the one who lay in the vault below. The help had strict orders to let the lady of the manner go where she wilt. When she reached the tower the song began and none who heard it could long endure its deepless well of sorrow At dawn she was carried off to the bed in the vault of her twin.

ELISSON

Nick was one of those old guys who walked the mall every morning. A regular amongst the Davenport Mallwalkers, he’d been at it for over fifteen years now.
“I gotta get my exercise!” he’d say, heading past Macy’s at a brisk near-trot.
Last week, all that exercise was no help. Some guy stuck a gun in his face and demanded his wallet, and Nick must not have been quick enough coming up with it.
Nick’s sleeping the Forever Sleep now, but it doesn’t seem to slow him down any. I still see him walking the mall…
…but only at night.

GUY DAVID

I dare not go to sleep. If I go to sleep, I wake up somewhere else. It’s OK when I wake up in the canal between Nowhereville and Edloe Island, but that other time I woke up in this place, full of people with spikes who keep other people on a leash. I found out I lost my right arm that night and a knife was buried in my forehead. Cost me most of my lindens, that new arm, but that knife, I’m keeping that. Couldn’t afford to remove it, and anyway, the other avatars seems to think it cool.

TERRENCE

Raoul lived alone. He had for a lone time and he liked it that way.
Sure sometimes he got a little lonely but he could deal with it. He
had tried living with a roommate a long time ago but it did not work
out.
One night his roommate went to bed early. Raoul took the opportunity
and invited Eve over. They were half way through their visit when
Raoul spotted his roommate in the doorway. He could take the empty
milk cartons, he could even take the snoring, but the sleepwalking was
the last straw.

LAIEANNA

Bells chimed from the other room. Throwing back the covers and
falling into my shoes, I grabbed the lantern while dashing out the
bedroom door. The master was already halfway across the field before
I even left the cottage. He was wearing his wizard’s hat that gave
off the faintest of glows.
I followed as close as I could catch up, but for a moment I lost him
completely. When a dark cloud finally passed, I saw him still walking
through the air a few feet above me. I prayed he wouldn’t be over the
lake when he finally awoke.

CHRIS

When I awoke, I was standing on a stage surrounded by LOTS of people. Next to me on the stage an old man was holding out a book and reading from a prompter.
Where the hell am I?
I’ve been known to sleepwalk, but what’s odd about my condition is I’ve been known to do it for days. Most people don’t even realize I’m sleepwalking when I talk to them.
As my mind clears, I finally register the question the old man just asked.
“Do you solemnly swear to uphold the office of President of the United States?”

RADAR

Their hands reach out, selfishly clutching at things that will doom them. Their minds are darkened by “me, me, me”, their hearts full of malice at any who would get in their way. It’s a contest of epic proportions, who can claim the most victory by gulping down and swallowing the most defeat.
It matters not to them that they spread sorrow and misery to others around them, nor that they will become dust long before their plans of so-called happiness could possibly reap any reward other than shame. And so it goes, and so they continue on, ever sleepwalking.

MAMACITA

By the end of June I was already tired of the heat, and so bored I thought I was sleepwalking, when The Chief came strutting into the newsroom, looking to throw his weight around a little, just to show everybody why he was still The Chief and the one who made the decisions around here; I could tell he was gunning for me because he was waving my last assignment around in his greasy little fist telling me I’d gone over the word count again, and I said back to him, “One hundred words? That’s just one damn sentence.”

JUSTIN

My wife always said that I sleepwalk, but I didn’t believe her… until now.
While on vacation in Turkey recently, I pushed a woman over a bridge while sleepwalking.
My lawyer tried to get me out of it, unsuccessfully.
I was sentenced to thirty-five years in a prison on the outskirts of Istanbul for my crime.
I don’t sleepwalk anymore. Hell, I barely sleep. I live my days in constant fear that my cellmate, Big Willy, will make me bend over for another “special moment.” I wish I were dead.
Why couldn’t I have just sleepwalked off of that bridge?

Z

The Internet is the most complex and advanced communication tool ever built by man.
Spammer N’Gawi Mobutu saw it as a way to scam people out of their money.
He made millions.
The Russians took some of those millions for a trip to the space station, the most complex and advanced vehicle ever built by man.
Mobutu saw it as just a fun way to spend the weekend.
Disgusted, the crew shoved Mobutu into the airlock and claimed he sleptwalked out into space.
Oxygen is the most basic and simple biological requirement needed by man.
Good luck finding it, Mobutu.


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.


Podcast Ready is holding a contest for referrals and signups using their very cool podcatching software.
I’ve been using that software for well over a year, and I absolutely love it. I just pop Ziggy’s chip into my system, let it sync up, and then put the chip back in the phone… no more hassles with downloading podcasts manually.
Want to see me win? Just sign up for PodcastReady using the promotional code CRAP to sign up, or edit your profile to use the promotional code CRAP.
To edit your profile:

  1. Go to PodcastReady
  2. Sign in with your username and password
  3. Click on Preferences
  4. Scroll down to Promo Code and type in CRAP
  5. Click on the OK button.

Isn’t that simple?

Weekly Challenge #62 – How I spent my summer inside a Turkish prison

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Welcome to the sixty-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 Tom of Footnote: How I spent my summer inside a Turkish prison.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
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):

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #62?
Rocky Torok of Edloe Island
Jenny of The Bloggess
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
Guy David from Guy David dot com
Tom from Footnote
Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
Daphne from Going Broke
Chris from Platypus Society
To4m from Tom’s Podcast
The Ghost of William Z. Burroughs
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


ROCKY

The charge was cruelty to farm animals. I was sentenced to 6 months in this facility. So far it hasn’t been so bad.
I have met a lot of pretty nice people. Over there, that’s Snake. We have a lot in common. We both love cats. We traded recipes.
That guy over there is Big Willy. He doesn’t say much. He must be a clean freak because he spends most of his free time in the showers.
Hey look! There’s a shiny quarter. Someone must have dropped it. They say here, finders keepers, losers weepers..
Right Big Willy? Big Willy? BIG WILLY!!!!

JENNY

Dear mom and dad,
When you said I should summer at Gramma’s house in Turkey I figured it
would be good for us to spend some time apart after the tensions of last
semester.
I realize you’re disappointed that I failed Algebra II. Most parents
would ground their child or take away their phone but I’m pretty sure they
would not plant a kilo of heroine in their kid’s suitcase and then warn
the Turkish officials that a dangerous drug mule would be arriving that
day. Oh and wrapping the drugs in my report card? Nice touch.
You guys are assholes.
Love, Karen

CALEB

It’s no spring picnic spending your summer vacation inside a Turkish prison. The falafel is just awful. The kefir inspires fear. And the baloney sandwiches aren’t very good either. Knowing all this, I decided to win the hearts and minds of my fellow inmates and smuggled in a nice hard sausage for them. Of course we had to hide it from the guards but everyone enjoyed my sausage so much it wasn’t like being in prison at all. Honestly, I can’t wait to go back next summer. Just so long as I get to go to a women’s prison again.

GUY DAVID

I was hungry. Really hungry. I know you’re supposed to save the turkey till Christmas, but it was my summer vacation, and I was in Turkey after all, so it somehow fit. I was just about to put it in the oven when I figures I forgot to put the paprika, and, that I didn’t actually have paprika in the first place. Fortunately, I had a very nice neighbor next door, so I told her the whole story, only, somehow she heard the word “Turk” instead of “Turkey”. I spent the rest of my summer vacation inside a Turkish prison.

TOM

Last year Mom and Dad took us to Disneyland. It sucked. It was phony and silly and the food was really really bad. Dad said he was tired of our bitching and moaning so he said we would be going on a real vacation this year. We had to choose from three fun filled packages. The Shank Shaw Redemption Road Gang Experience, Escape from Alcatraz Marathon Swim and the Midnight Express Turkish Delight. I voted for Burning Man, but we went to Turkey instead. The best part of the trip was Kat Steven’s inmate concert. Folsom Blues in Arabic rocked.

HOUSTON KEYS

No privacy, no peace.
It’s like work without the cubicles. I was pleasantly surprised that the man with the rubber glove was amazingly gentle.
So how did I get here? Who really knows? One minute I’m watching “What’s my Filafil?” and the next I see a woman without a burka. The entertainment police bust in and BLAMMO!
The good side is my mustache is growing in nicely and the torturous screams of my cell mates provide a nightly soundtrack for insanity.
So once I get out I’ll recommend a Turkish Prison to all my friends. Along with the carpets, those are really, really nice.

DAPHNE

Mom said I needed a summer job. It would build character and make some money for school. So I took a job working for my Great Aunt at her turkey farm. I fed the turkeys, cleaned up the barn when they were out in the yard and made sure they had water. One morning I got them all out to the yard and was sweeping up after them when the door to the barn closed. I was locked in.
And that is how I spent my Summer Vacation in a Turkey Prison.

CHRIS

Last year, Shawshank prison was selected to take part in a prisoner exchange program with other prisons around the country. Having earned the warden’s blessing after doing his taxes, my good friend Andy Dusfresne was one of the first prisoners selected for the new program.
But there was a mix-up; instead of going to Anchorage, Andy wound up in Ankara at a maximum security Turkish prison, where he was repeatedly sodomized by packs of horny Turkish bull queers. It was September before the mistake was realized and Andy was brought back home.
That was the longest summer of his life.

TO4M

Ok So I forgot smuggling hash was against the law. I saw Midnight
Express but that was years ago. During the summer in prison I learned
a lot of things. Grubs and water are a good meal once you’ve forgotten
about cheeseburgers. Daylight is overrated. So are showers Stench is
the new Axe . A great way to entertain yourself is to take maybe 10 or
12 dead cockroaches (or snacks as I called them) and toss them to the
cell’s silent darkness then spend hours finding them. It wasn’t so
much fun when they landed in the chamber pot.

WILLIAM Z BURROUGHS

April 14th, 1965
Lincoln died a hundred years ago today.
I have ingested half of a Turkish street market, snorting swirling iridescent powders, rubbing quivering jellies on my flesh, quaffing elixirs from ornate vessels and inhaling ancient magical incense. The cops descend upon the bazaar like a plague of locusts, wrestling me to the ground.
To struggle is futile. But I do so anyway, hurling bodies from me like a wet spinning pinwheel hurls away the damp.
A truncheon falls, and all… goes… black.
The devil inside me pulls at the bars of his prison cell, screaming and belching flame.


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.


Podcast Ready is holding a contest for referrals and signups using their very cool podcatching software.
I’ve been using that software for well over a year, and I absolutely love it. I just pop Ziggy’s chip into my system, let it sync up, and then put the chip back in the phone… no more hassles with downloading podcasts manually.
Want to see me win? Just sign up for PodcastReady using the promotional code CRAP to sign up, or edit your profile to use the promotional code CRAP.
To edit your profile:

  1. Go to PodcastReady
  2. Sign in with your username and password
  3. Click on Preferences
  4. Scroll down to Promo Code and type in CRAP
  5. Click on the OK button.

Isn’t that simple?

Weekly Challenge #61: Bowling

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Welcome to the sixty-first 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 Chris of Platypus Society: Bowling.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
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):

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #61?
Tom from Footnote
Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
Guy David of The Sixteenth
Elisson from blog d’Elisson
Rocky Torok from YP.com
Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
Terrence from Never Was
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club Oddcast
Chris from Platypus Society
The Mad Bard From Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


TOM

I heard they have dwarf bowling
down in Australia.
I wonder how that works?
Do you actually roll the dwarf?
If so does the dwarf have to maintain
a tucked profile or do you have restrains
to maintain an assemblance of roundness.
Do you use standard bowling lanes.
Damn that’s got to be hell on gutter balls
err I mean gutter dwarfs.
Do you have to rent two pairs of shoes?
If you get three strikes in a row
do you need a new dwarf?
How does a spilt work?
Is it the pins or
is it the dwarf?

HOUSTON KEYS

Good evening and welcome to the Loserville Bowling Alley “Singles Night.”
Because our lanes are very clean you must wash your balls if you want to use them… WHAT?
Pets are not allowed in the bowling alley so please do not roll gerbil balls down the lanes.
The McKinney wedding will be at two this afternoon, so please be sure to pick up your cups and plates in lane seven beforehand. Thank you.
As mentioned last week, parties of three or more cannot declare themselves a nudist colony, so lane eleven, PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON!
Thank you for your cooperation.

GUY DAVID

We used to go bowling, me and my grandson. They use armadillos as balls and giraffes as pins, but the game is the same. You throw the armadillo and try to knock down as many giraffes as you can.
My grandson loved this game. He would turn to me and proudly say “Grandma Shunra, this is the best durn giraffe knocking we have done yet”.
There was this kid from around the block though, always got in the way. Used to go around the runaway, running over the armadillos and making funny noises, so, I turned him into a frog.

ELISSON

Few people know that the modern game of bowling traces its origins to the steppes of Central Asia. To the very court of Genghis Khan, in fact.
His Mongol hordes wreaked cruelty, death and destruction on all who resisted their sweep across Asia. It was after they leveled a particularly recalcitrant village that Genghis took the head of its chieftain – now detached from its body – and, holding it by the mouth and eye sockets, rolled it down a dusty alley, knocking over a pile of villagers’ bones.
But it was his grandson Kublai who invented the Bowling Shirt.

ROCKY

Bob Landy had always suffered from Dyslexia..
It’s his love of the English language that kept him going, pen in hand, and he
knew one day that he would make a difference in the world.
One evening, He decided to write a song.
He wrote about his love of his favorite sport. He fine tuned and perfect every
note and lyric. Unfortunately, spellchecking wasn’t an option in those days.
Does anyone know what song Bob penned that day? A simple song about a blue
collar sport that would change the face of popular music?
The answer, my friend, is “bowling in the wind” The answer is “bowling in the
wind”..

LAIEANNA

For being deaf and blind, Hoarse has a wonderful sense of his
surroundings. He displayed his masterful skills with the ninth strike
since we began. Despite my careful etchings on the scorecard, he
could tell I was cheating and gave me a silent warning. Then he
stretched his arms in a gesture for needed assistance.
“Oh very well, you win.” I grumbled taking my marker to a new surface.
“I’ll help you find a suitable head.” I picked up the ball with a
drawn menacing face and dropped it on the horseman’s shoulders. His
anger started our eternal chase again.

TERRENCE

The twins cried in the corner: the older of the two with festering
wounds and pale skin, threw up into a pail beside him; the younger
looked to be little more than skin and bones. Across the room the
oldest brother, who made the youngest twin look over weight, was the
source of the twins’ terror. He flicked the lights on, and then off
again. Raoul’s fourth brother, who was a mass of muscle, picked up
the nearest object he could find and threw it at the oldest brother.
Raoul couldn’t understand how people mistook this disaster as Angels
bowling.

CALEB

I used to go bowling every Friday night but then the pins banded together and formed a union. Seems they were tired of the constant abuse being hurled at them night after night and they refused to lie down any longer. Well, pretty soon the word got round and they started hurling the balls back at us. The whole thing got so ugly they had to shut down main street and call up the national guard. I’ve learned my lesson though about oppression; I aint abusing helpless pins anymore. On Fridays now, I go to a nice peaceable cockfight instead..

CHRIS

I always knew the church bowling league was competitive, but I never thought anyone would get killed over it. Turns out Brother Jarvis of the Southside Church of Christ bowling team had seen Pastor Willis of the First Lutheran Church of Springfield footfault one too many times during the league championship on Tuesday. He was gonna let it slide, but when Pastor Willis faulted on that spare in the tenth to win the match, well that just set Brother Jarvis off.
Instead of shaking his hand, Brother Jarvis tackled Pastor Willis and beat him to death with a rented shoe.

PLANET Z

No, I’m not smuggling a midget in my pants. I have elephantiasis of the testicles: Gigantic Ball Syndrome.
Doctor says I can get them removed and go on hormones, but I can’t afford that. I’m just a working guy.
I used to be an orderly at an insane asylum, but pranksters would call in asking how we kept our nuts in.
Then I worked for Planters Nuts. People were always calling me asking how big my nuts were.
Now I work in a bowling alley.
What could possibly go wrong?
Hey, can you hold on a second? The phone’s ringing.


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.

Weekly Challenge #60 – Razor

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Welcome to the Sixtieth 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 Elisson: Razor.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
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):

Which stories were the best from Weekly Challenge #60?
Chris from Platypus Society
Tom from Footnote Podcast
Guy David of The Sixteenth
Laieanna from Hodgepodge Point
Daphne from Going Broke
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


CHRIS

After ten years together, Allen and Donna agreed that their love life was getting stale. So they exchanged notes one morning about what they could do for each other to spice things up again.
As instructed, Allen returned that evening with a bouquet of roses, a bottle of champagne and a new pair of silk boxers. He was very excited to see if Donna had done what he asked her to do.
When she met him at the door, her arms were scratched up and bleeding. She smacked him then handed him a razor.
“You shave the damn cat! Freak!”

TOM

My grandfather was a barber. In his basement on Sunnyside Ave. he had a professional barber chair I remember sitting in that chair feet failing to reach the footrest. On the wall was a glass shelf where the tools of his trade rested. Electric Clippers, Silver Plated Scissors, and the Straight Razor. After lathering my neck with the badger-bristle brush grandpa would take his two-foot leather strap and strop the steel blade until the edge glowed in the dark. With the deft skill of a surgeon he scraped stubble from the babyfat of his prodigy nary a drop spilled.

GUY DAVID

The night was sharp, as sharp as razors. The dark tall man stared
into her eyes, eyes that where on fire, alive and young, little red
fire dancing inside. Neither of them talked. Talking through the
razor sharp air was not necessary. They knew there was nothing to
say, but goodbye. He turned to leave, feeling her eyes burn him from
behind. There was no turning back now. The air stiffened, as if
expectant. The man opened the door and left. The razor sharp night
cut him from inside, each step bringing sharp pains into his chest.
“Exit”, he thought.

LAIEANNA

Three fainting women was a disappointment for Magnus’s show. He
dropped the trick hammer and hobbled towards the front of the stage on
a crushed foot. Taking out a bag of razors, he popped them into his
mouth one by one. When on the platform edge, he looked out at his
audience who tried to bury themselves in their chairs. Magnus let the
silence fill their space then raised his hands and bowed. He closed
the show with a bloody thank you and his tongue fell onto a tall man’s
lap. Magnus walked off stage smiling. The shrieks were stupendous.

DAPHNE

He first he noticed his fingers were numb and then he lost sight in one eye. His lost some of his long term memories too. But nothing that really bothered him so he continued blogging and podcasting with great success. Until the day he found himself going off on a rant that related otters and Middle East politics. The coroner said it was like someone took a knife to his brain, but there were no external injuries, must have been the razor sharp wit.

CALEB

LuAnn makes the best sandwiches in town. The trick is that the meat is cut so razor thin you can read through it. That’s not just some colorful expression, she really uses a razor. She spends most of her time between customers just working that leather strop keeping her razor sharp. That allows the meat to go on to your sandwich pink, tender and delicious..
So if LuAnn ever invites you up to lunch, you go, boy. You’ll never have a better meal in all your life. But I’d steer clear of her barbershop… if you know what I mean.blockquote>


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.

Weekly Challenge #59 – Reverie

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Welcome to the Fifty-ninth 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 Anji Bee: Reverie.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
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):

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #59?
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
Guy David from Sixteenth
Tom from Footnote
Daphne from Going Broke
Tamara from Going Broke
Chris from Platypus Society
Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
Laieanna from HodgePodge Point
The Mad Bard From Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


CALEB

It was one of those perfect spring days; the picnic, the wine, a light breeze that played all around us. And pretty soon we were lost in a reverie.
But my girlfriend doesn’t like being lost… not anywhere.
Pretty soon she’s nagging me to ask for directions or buy a map at a gas station and I just want her to get off my back y’know? And there goes the reverie… which means we’re not lost anymore.
I said, “Darling, let’s never fight like that again” and we kissed and made up.
And before very long… We were lost again!

GUY DAVID

She was caressing me softly. Her hand felt like the sea, rising,
rising inside me, her naked breast brushing against my belly button,
her tongue licking my nipple. My body stiffened, shock waves passing
through it, then I looked away at the single palm tree swaying in the
light breeze. The smell of sea water filled my nostrils. I breathed
it deep, savoring.
Suddenly, her tongue turned into a snake, her hands into sharp pointy
things. I screamed and screamed, then I passed out. You get some
strange reveries when stuck alone in the desert with no food and water.

TOM

Between them they shared a Dixie cup of plum wine. Unlike the reverie in the street Shema and Shoji chose to celebrate VA day seated. In the 60s they had lead the 5-mile long dragon that snaked up the broken pavement of the El Camino Real. They were knights of the Divine Wind the first pilots to land in LA after the Los Alamos disaster. Oppenheimer’s Folly one single explosion had poisoned 57 million citizens. Abandon and broken the Nippon Empire claimed California during the Honolulu Peace Treaty. Deeply reflected in shoji purple wine the red of the rising sun.

DAPHNE

Sitting on her patio, sipping a glass of wine, staring at a sunset her mind wandered into a daydream.
The sun glistened off the water as it set into the horizon; she watched as it slowly disappear.
She let the worries of the day fade with the sun as she relaxed in the reverie of her thoughts.
She let her thoughts flow through her mind as she relaxed with her glass of wine.
“Oh for the love of God! Can’t I get five minutes to write a one hundred word story without being IM’d?

TAMARA

With his review in fifteen minutes, Laurence wasn’t getting any work done. He sat in his cubicle daydreaming about walking into his boss’s office and finally using the .22 he kept locked in his briefcase all day. He just wanted to shoot the smug smile off that gas-bag’s face; maybe he could cut out early and go to the Astros game. Maybe he could just walk down the hall, visiting each office with his new co-workers, Messers Smith and Wesson. Maybe he should just put the cap back on the jar of rubber cement sitting open on his desk.

CHRIS

Steve dreamed of becoming a baseball player. But when his father died, he quit high school and took a job as a janitor down at the mill to help his mother pay the bills. Tomorrow marks his thirty-seventh anniversary with the company.
Occasionally you’ll catch him holding the mop handle like a bat, lost in reverie as he stares down an imaginary pitcher. He won’t say if the scenario is a memory or just a fantasy, but in thirty seven years he’s never missed a day of work, and he’s never missed smacking that hanging curveball over the centerfield fence.

HOUSTON KEYS

“An earth shattering KABOOM!” shouted Marvin in delicious ecstasy!
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening.” Truth is told, I was enjoying a quiet reverie. The hustle and bustle of my day rarely added up to a few enjoyable moments, much less the time I spent with Marvin.
“I don’t think you’re serious about this,” Marvin said quietly. “Are you just using me to survive when I enslave the world?”
“Come on Marv,” I reassured him. “You know you are the only… uh, guy, who can get away with a green Roman Soldier skirt.”
“It’s NOT A SKIRT!” Marvin was so defensive.

LAIEANNA

It was the same mundane thing I had left the day before and it was
only Tuesday. I tired of my job. Actually, I was just tired. By
three each day, I was always ready for a nap. I’d stare off to think
of anything but work. My reverie would slip into sleep. As made
obvious by the head bobbing and final slam into the table. That day I
might not have got caught if I didn’t snore. Now I sit at the
unemployment office, filling out the same boring paperwork and trying
not to fall asleep while I wait.

PLANET Z

When these boring meetings get to me, my mind wanders and I start to daydream.
One time, I imagined the copier was a dragon and I was fighting it to the death.
Another time, the coffeepot was full of a magical bubbling potion that turned me into a frog.
Then there was the time I imagined that Jody, the hot chick from Sales, was giving her presentation naked.
Then I wake up and look around.
Everything’s normal again.
Such silly little daydreams.
I mean, a copier dragon? Magical coffee? Jody making a presentation?
Especially on Everybody Gets Naked Fridays.
Rawr.


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.

Weekly Challenge #58 – Cheating

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Welcome to the Fifty-eighth 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 Laieanna: Cheating.
Nine stories were submitted this week. Oops!
We have a rookie, who is actually a podcasting veteran! Yay
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
And, once again, some disturbing madness from the one we all knew and loved as 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 stories of Weekly Challenge #58?
Mike of Mike Thinks
Guy David from Sixteenth
Tom from Footnote
Elisson from blog d’Elisson
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
Ted from Ted’s Podcast
Laieanna from HodgePodge Point
Daphne from Going Broke
Radar from SL Under The Radar
The Seriously Deranged Scribe of Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and elt me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


RADAR

It burned in his hand. It burned in his conscience. But he was not going to change his mind, it was far too late for that now. Trembling, he unfolded the crumpled paper in his hand. He read the scrawl on it, recognized the handwriting, felt he knew what the person who wrote it was thinking. He hoped he was wrong. “Please be wrong,” he whispered. “Please, please.”
He dialed. He heard a phone ringing far away. Some one picked up. His heart raced, his thoughts were crazed. A woman’s voice spoke: “Time Traveler’s Lottery Number Selection Services…”

MIKE

Gerald sat in the dark, alone.
Years ago he had cheated his roommate,
swapping a winning lottery ticket with a losing one.
His roommate never knew.
25 million dollars. Gerald bought
expensive cars, lavish parties,
and constant streams of women.
Now, middle aged, money gone,
his tears echo in silence.
Gerald looks out his window, and wonders
what if…..
Miles away, Tom looks out his window.
Making the mortgage was a struggle.
His mind wanders, dreaming of winning
the lotto like his old roommate.
He kisses his wife and kids goodnight.
Drifting off to sleep, content, still pondering….
what if….

GUY DAVID

I was just relaxing man, laying down, listening to All Is Full Of Crap by Björn on the radio when my wife just walks in:
“Take out the trash, do the dishes, vacuum the cat and clean the floor”
“Sure dear, you go and have some fun, I’ll do the house work”
Like hell I will. I have better things to do with my life, like… like… things, y’know. It’s a good thing I keep a banjo playing midget in my drawer. I know, that’s cheating, but I pay him good and he’s thorough. My wife doesn’t suspect a thing.

TOM

Alphonso De La Vega had cheated death inumerical times
much to Death’s vexation. There was the monopoly game
in Madrid. The baccarat hand in Barcelona. Solitaire
in Seville. Twister in Tierra Del Fuego. He was empty
handed and one step behind Alphonso. When Death caught
Alphonso in bed with Persephone he hit the speed dial
on the cell. “Cut the threads!!!” he screamed. But De
La Vega didn’t die. His backside just sprouted 12-inch
cornrows. He looked like a Rastafarite Chia pet. Death
laughed as the instant text from the three sisters lit up
“Ok we’ll butt the dreads.”

ELISSON

He sat in the examination room, forehead beaded with sweat. It was all of sixty degrees in there, A/C turned up full blast: His sweat was from nerves, not heat.
He had to decide.
The University’s code was strict. “On my honor, I give my word that I have neither given nor received aid during this examination.” Transgressors were expelled.
Should he sneak a peek at his crib notes and risk getting caught? Could he look at himself in the mirror if he got away with it? If he relied on memory alone, would he fail?
Should he cheat? Or not?

CALEB

Your cheating heart may make you weep but my cheating heart pumps someone else’s blood. You can still hear it beating in my chest but thanks to the liberalization of free trade it only pumps the blood of the highest bidder. So to stay alive I have to do a perpetual mechanized cartwheel turning to the right, upside down, back over, and upright again. Can’t go too fast or centrifugal force will strangle me, can’t go too slow either. It does have it’s upsides though. I’ve fathered 17 kids so far. Turns out, the ladies really do love a spinner.

TED

Ben and Sarah had been married for almost 50 years. Never in his wildest dreams did he think something like this would happen.
One day, Ben received an email. There was no text, but there were pictures attached.
Clearly, this could not be his Sarah, the woman who had bore his children, who had taken care of him all these years.
And this guy.. He looked to be about 25, with broad shoulders and a thick head of hair. Why would he want a woman of Sarahs age, anyway?
As he left the courtroom, he could still hear Sarah sobbing, and murmuring.. “It wasn’t really cheating! It was Second Life! It’s only a game!”

LAIEANNA

“I demand a rematch,” cried the Hare, “Last one wasn’t fair.”
Tortoise agreed but only with a wager. Hours later they were positioned behind a white line with a crowd. An elephant blew his trunk for the start. Hare kept pace for ten feet then ran off with great speed.
When near the finish, Hare laughed triumphantly. But before his foot crossed the line, a sports car sped by, Tortoise in the driver’s seat. “That’s cheating.” Hare yelled.
“Can’t mess up the moral of the story, now can we?” Tortoise replied, handing Hare the turtle wax. “Don’t scratch the paint.”

DAPHNE

Brad was at the bar and a stranger came in, sat down, ordered a drink and asked if there was a pool table. Brad asked the stranger if he would like to play and place a friendly wager. The stranger smiled and nodded.
Brad cheated and won. The stranger paid his debt and smiled. Brad took his winnings and left the bar. The stranger smiled and watched as Brad crossed the street and into the path of a speeding Metro bus.
The stranger smiled, nodded, took out a list and crossed off a name.
Brad learned, you can’t cheat death.

PLANET Z

The announcement from Metzger Barber College shocked the country: the basketball team was involved in a point-shaving scandal.
The worst part of the news was that the gamblers who paid the players to miss free throws received lousy haircuts and shaves as part of the deal.
Normally, Metzger had high standards when it came to the skills of its students, but these gangsters were going around with uneven sideburns, split ends, and razor-stubble.
You’d expect better.
For days, paperboys stood on street corners and shouted – Extra extra, read all about it: Shave and a haircut: Two-Bit Hoods.


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.