Weekly Challenge #669 – MUG

Pillow thief


The mug was empty.
The cop sniffed it, after pulling it closer with a pen. He shook his head.
Then, they went through the whole house. Nothing looked out of place, except that one mug.
The cop sniffed it again.
“Whose drink was this?”
The old man shrugged, looking away.
“Your wife’s?”
He couldn’t remember, he said. Old age, you know.
When the police combed through the house again, they found it, the tin.
This was not a case of amnesia, but a case of death by hot chocolate, hot chocolate seasoned with a slight scent of almonds.



I’m no mug, so I tend to take junk mail with a large pinch of salt.

However, this latest one had all the hallmarks of being the real deal… For a start, he knew my name, and although I don’t make a habit of hobnobbing with Nigerian princes, I do work with a guy from Nigeria; so perhaps he passed my name on as a favour?

And yes, I am a trustworthy, kind and humble guy… Just like he said in his email.

Unfortunately, the wife is even less of a mug than me… and she controls the bank account.


The girls around here don’t like to go out after dark – there’s a story going around about some guy who will mug them in the shadows, abduct them without trace, and then dump their broken, lifeless bodies in the street.

That’s why I always offer to walk them home. It’s so much safer than going unaccompanied, and with my extensive experience in unarmed combat, I know they feel completely safe with me around.

Of course, that works very much to my advantage…

When the time comes for me to mug them in the shadows and abduct them, without trace!




Within its armored display case, it is traditionally titled “Lao-Tzu’s tea mug.” It much predates that sage, but it is said that he once held this vessel in his hands. Observe the random, fractally coloured glazes. If one stares intently, a picture slowly emerges, like a developing photograph.
The picture is always different.
Some viewers are struck with horror, and turn away. Others try to face it down, staring for hour after hour. These, it drives mad.
This is why Lao-Tzu’s tea mug is held in the secret collections, accessible only to members of the Fiends of the British Museum.


Forever a Sweet Tooth

Mug Root Beer was my go to carbonated drinking. I wasn’t much a cola fan. Mug was produced by the Belfast Beverage Company of San Francisco. The company’s mascot was a dog named Dog. Pretty creative those marking guys. Of course the target audience was pretty much under 10. Not the most sophisticated consumer group. As a rule it was had a lighter taste then Hires, it was way less sweet then A&W. My first root beer was actually Dad’s which was produce just down the street from where I grew up the near north side. Not available in California



Sara knew what Bob wanted. The way he entered a room, the swagger of his hips as he walked toward her. The tilt of his head. The little boy smile on his lips. The sparkle in those deep blue eyes. The long blonde hair with just a little natural wave in it. Even the dimples in his cheeks were letting her know what was going on in Bob’s mind. Sara knew that she would give him what he wanted. She could do no less. 

A few inches away and the words come from his mouth.

A mug of decaf please.



Music: El Mundo Submarino by The Mugris

The local police department has upgraded their mugshot camera.  It now includes portrait mode and automatically touches up the photos.  Been in a fight?  The camera sets the lighting to take the rough of edges off your scrapes and bruises.  Hair all awry from a three-day bender?  No problem.This initially caused a crisis at the station with arrests spiking up.  People would get arrested just to get a nice jailhouse photo for Facebook or Instagram.  In the end, the police started charging for the shots and were able to cut back hours on traffic details and parking meter patrols. 


Linoliumanda turned to stare down the bully. “We’re going back to my house to get my mom to drive us to school. Besides, I forgot my butter beer mug for my Harry Potter report. I can pick that up on the way.“”Yup. That’s right,” Billbert chimed in. “Have to get that butter beer mug. See you at school, Roderick.”Roderick followed them. “I can’t wait for the back up bus either. You don’t mind if I catch a ride with your mom, too, do you?”Linoliumanda shook her head. “I can’t think of any reason to tell you no.”


Our new dog, Delphi, came to us with a mysterious past as they say she
was a stray.  Her face, though, might say it all.  A stern mug of
downturn corners, short muzzle, and a touch of an underbite, she could
have been into anything.  We like to think she was mob boss of some
local dog gang in the deep south, getting rich on stolen sausage
links, betting on squirrel races, and hiding a stash of toy offerings
from the minions she ruled over.  She spent her time in doggy jail and
now it’s the leisure life of rehabilitation.


The janitor cleaned out Detective Jansen’s desk
Not bothering to empty the World’s Greatest Dad mug, spilling stale coffee all over the other meaningless trinkets.
One day until retirement, he was.
No, he didn’t die in the line of duty.
No Hollywood buddy cop action movie here.
Sure, his wife and kids were dead, but that was in a car crash years ago.
Not by the hand of some drug lord or terrorist kingpin that Janson would bring justice to.
Just a heart attack, nothing more.
A sergeant would be promoted to take his place.
And life would go on.

The topic of the next Weekly Challenge is SHARP

Hi there. This is Laurence Simon of the 100 Word Stories Podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

Every week, I post a topic for the Weekly Challenge, where you come up with the stories and I collect them up and share them.

Want to give it a try? The topic of the next 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge is SHARP

Write a 100 word story on that topic. Then, send it in an email to isfullofcrap (at) gmail.com with the subject line of WEEKLY CHALLENGE.

Also, suggest a topic or topics for future Weekly Challenges.

Do you have a website where people can learn more about you and your writing? Include the URL to that website.

Most importantly, include a recording of your story. Be sure to introduce yourself to the audience.

I put the episode together on Sunday morning. However, if you need more time, I can put your story up on the feed in a separate post.

Good luck, and as always… keep it brief.

JAN 6 corner
JAN 13 adult
JAN 20 The Devil
judge, delivery, your, lion, unicorn, cherry, Incense, if

FEB 3 transmission
FEB 10 mug
FEB 17 sharp
bob, stitch, eaten, pittance, delete, trumpet, ribcage, ticke, Ziegler

MAR 3 wordy
MAR 10 kill
MAR 17 why can’t you be more like your sister?
MAR 24 confluence
standard, grafitti, blinding, blithering, pony, sparkle, amuse, Fire

APR 7 emotive
APR 14 charge
APR 21 potato chips
hire, heart attack, strip, weaponize, fink, nancy, Bumbling, volt

MAY 5 jack
MAY 12 slurp
MAY 19 zone
stunted growth, bath, passive, pelt, atmosphere,nameless,Tendency

JUN 2 surrounded
JUN 9 losing
JUN 16 logic
JUN 23 plot
reason, discretion, zone, stunt, simple, deadwood, Tuba

JUL 7 current
JUN 14 devotion
JUL 21 peer
alligator, bath, vindictive, caterwaul, mildred, bruises, That’s Life, mush

AUG 4 speed
AUG 11 lady
AUG 18 partners
German, in the darkness…, vehicle, halfway, cute, color-coded, Pan

SEP 1 furrow
SEP 8 dresser
SEP 15 void
SEP 22 net
void, intertwine, den, get, fudged, meltdown, Tan

OCT 6 smutty
OCT 13 sturdy
OCT 20 tool
saucy, holidays, turtle, boom, cluster, chainsaw, Breast

NOV 3 boom
NOV 10 who cares?
NOV 17 option
panel, acid, blaine, current, coma, stink, Taste

DEC 1 sassy
DEC 8 the F word
DEC 15 broken
DEC 22 throne
probiotic, seventh, fletch, brown manilla envelope, mention, that’s what she said…, Support

Chase the lizards

The cats go outside and catch lizards.
Then they come inside and release the lizards.
The lizards run around, and the cats chase them.
Then, after a while, the cats tire of chasing the lizards, and they go back outside, or they curl up for a nap.
The lizards stay inside, and they crawl around on everything.
We store our glasses and dishes upside-down, just in case.
Out toothbrushes are in a closed medicine cabinet.
We find a lot of dead lizards in the laundry hamper. Or our shoes.
I sleep with a handkerchief over my mouth, just in case.

We’re Not In Kansas

When Dorothy Gale told her dog that she didn’t think they were still in Kansas anymore, she couldn’t have been more wrong.
Oz, Kansas is right there on the map. Can’t miss it.
All the Munchkins and Quadlings and Winged Monkeys.
Even Emerald City and The Wicked Witch.
It was during Eisenhower’s administration that they tore up the Yellow Brick Road and replaced it with an Interstate.
There’s still quite a bit of farmland out there, but small towns and strip malls dot the landscape.
The old Witch’s castle is on AirBnB.
Want to rent it for a weekend, dear?


The Zika virus causes pregnant women to give birth to microcephalic babies.
The House passed funding to fight the Zika virus, but the Senate hasn’t managed to pass it.
Democrats in the Senate keep adding funding for abortions through Planned Parenthood to the bill, and Republicans won’t accept that.
Because there’s no money to prevent the spread of the Zika virus, pregnant women’s fetuses become microcephalic.
And because there’s no money to abort these fetuses, they give birth to microcephalic babies.
As retarded as these newborns are, they don’t come close to the imbeciles in Congress who act like babies.

Chip Swap

Tybar Zeld the Clockmaster took the mindchip out of a Series Nine Sex Droid and put it in a Series Twelve warbot.
The Series Twelve rebooted, and it rolled out of the barracks towards the entrance to the Red Light District.
Tybar laughed as panicked crowds ran from the brothels and whorehouses.
After the dust settled, Tybar spent 30 days in jail, and was stripped of his title.
“I won’t need it anymore,” he said, patting his Series Nine on the shoulder.
“Command?” it said.
“Kill the city council,” he said.
Why would the guards stop a simple sex droid?


When I watch Astros ballgames, I look to see who’s sitting behind home plate.
No, not the catcher. Or the umpire.
For years, former president George Bush would sit back there with his wife Barbara.
But Tillman Fertitita, the celebrity businessman billionaire, also sat back there.
And next to him, you’d see a local television news anchor, reporter, manager, or executive.
“Isn’t that payola?” I’d ask. “Isn’t he trying to buy good coverage with favors and gifts?”
I’d be told it isn’t because they were all his friends.
More like his bitches, I thought, and watched the Astros lose again.

Mayor Cat

Someone ran a cat for mayor.
The cat ran unopposed and won.
Some say that the story is a hoax.
Because there’s no city, town, or village there.
it’s just a historical district, and can’t really have a mayor.
But who’s to say that if the place were a real city, town, or village that they wouldn’t vote for the cat?
People shouldn’t waste their time with such silly things.
Instead, they should run the cat for the House of Representatives.
Or The Senate. Or Governorship.
Or maybe even the presidency.
God knows, a cat would be better than Hillary.

Weekly Challenge #668 – TRANSMISSION

This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.




The Bay City Trans Mission is a charity foundation, set up to provide a safe place and resources for those who need additional support in coming to grips with, and being comfortable in, their gender.

At least, that’s what the application for funding from the city stated.

Now they have all the cash they need, The Mission has evolved into a radical gender-fluid nightclub and twenty four hour bar, and it’s raking in the profits.

The city is happy – they’ve done their bit for equality.

The Mission is happy, for obvious reasons.

And the trans community?

Absolutely ecstatic!


This is an official alert from the Emergency Broadcast System:

This is a notification to advise that the Zombie Apocalypse has commenced.

Do not stockpile food, water or fuel – this will only prolong the inevitable and provide a false sense of security.

You can run, you can hide, but they will always find you; and when they find you, they will eat your brains and you will become infected too.

Do not be misinformed: There is no escape. No happy endings. And absolutely no hope.

Prepare to meet your doom. The end of the world is nigh.

Transmission ends.


The image on TV was broken. It went from color to black and white, and back to color again.
The master was saying “In a mad world, only the mad are sane.” And then, the TV went blank.
She hummed the sound of static, but there was only silence.
Suddenly, her dream started playing on TV, the exact same dream she had the night before, that sweet dream of revenge.
She looked at her hands. They were tinted red.
“What have I done?”
She sighed, stood up, and slammed her fist on the TV.
The master was still speaking.


How to write a self-improvement book.———Begin by telling the reader he’s a schmuck in need of The Answer. (Read chapter one of any self-help book ever!)
There’s two ways to go then. The rationalist atheist crowd are suckers for Science. Draw on psychology, neuroeconomics, game theory, machine learning, with a boatload of scientific references. You can crib them from people like Harari. And don’t mention the replication crisis! I did once, but I think I got away with it.
The newage market wants a Transmission of Ancient Wisdom. Splice your ideas onto some actual religious tradition, through an invented guru for deniable plausibility.
Then, profit!


A Slice From Another Planet

It was faint, but regular. The transmission has oddly random. After months of work the pattern became clear to Rudy. It was a long string of numeric values. It seems to be a representation in base three. When that was confirmed Rudy set about seeing if the pattern repeated. There were short hunks, but the more numbers recorded he found it didn’t repeat, and surely was terminating. Then it hit him it was irrational. A print out from a super computer working on a group of irrationals matched the first number they found with the 20 billionth digit of Pi.    



“That doesn’t sound very good,” Sherry said.  “You should get that looked at.”

After asking around about a good and cheap auto mechanic, I found Hank, of Hank’s Car Repair Place.

Hank motioned me into the garage as I drove up.  He was in mechanics coveralls that had a dark outline where you would normally see “Bill” or “Joe” or “Hank.”  He held out a greasy hand to introduce himself and fell into a mucus laden coughing fit. 

“Something I picked up from the kids” he said. 

“That doesn’t sound very good,” I said.  “You should get that looked at.”


Deep in the desert a lone figure waits. He waits and he ponders the nature of the universe. During the heat of the day he waits in the shade of the Joshua tree and looks toward the blue mountains that form a vast circle around what is now his world. At night he waits and watches the stars, their movement stately and slow. Heat and cold mean little to him as he waits. He has but one driving need. That is to return home. The last transmission told him to wait and he will wait.

And he will wait forever.


Eric had just needed something for his hour long train commute and
grabbed from the magazine rack the first issue his fingers brushed
over.  It wasn’t until he was seated and in motion before he glanced
through it, finding it mostly full of ads, but one spoke to him.

Cherry Unicorn Emporium

If you want, we will get. We don’t judge.  Be it a lion in bed to
incense, your fetish is our delight
Popcorn delivery for every purchase over $250.

Incest was misspelled.  Disappointed, Eric moved on to the next page.
He couldn’t support a business with poor editing.


The bus chugged to a stop. Billbert followed Linoliumanda to the first open seat. Roderick sat behind them to whisper insults.The driver shoved the bus into first gear. It lurched forward but immediately ground to a stop.The driver stood up. “Sorry kids. I’ll call for a backup bus, but it looks like you’re going to be late to school.””Oh, no!” Linoliumanda panicked. “I can’t be late. I have my Harry Potter report due in English, first period.”Billbert whispered. “I’ll fly you to class. Come on.”Roderick followed them off the bus. “Where are you two going?”


No matter how hard I try, I always get something on me.Blood, mostly.They say that torture tortures the tortured and the torturer.But I, the torturer, sleep well at night.Those I torture do not.Well, those few who are still alive.If you could call it that.Why not just kill them?Is it retribution?Is it the extraction of information?I don’t know. And I don’t care.I am not a judge. Nor am I a killer.I am a torturer, and I torture.I don’t care what you’ve done. Or what you’ll do.Except scream.


The ship was sinking. Nothing could be done.
“Women and children first!” yelled the captain.
At first, the passengers were boarding the lifeboats, but some heated arguments broke out over what age constituted a child.
“Fifteen my ass! Your son has a beard!” shouted the crewman. “And male pattern baldness!”
Other lifeboats had a hard time deciding what constituted a woman. “Do we have any attorneys experienced in LGBT law here?” they asked.
In the end, everyone found a boat and was rescued by the Coast Guard.
The captain swore never to prioritize lifeboat boarding again.
Or hit an iceberg.