I know it’s impolite to do so, but we talk about you behind your back.
Literally. We stand right behind you and talk about you behind your back.
Oh, you can hear us back here?
What if we whisper. Like this?
Still hear us?
Well, I guess that defeats the purpose of talking about you behind your back if you can hear it.
Maybe if you would lean against a wall and we can talk about you on the other side of the wall?
That’s not the same?
Well, at least our conversation puts your back up against the wall.
Jif Skippy
Girls are not made of sugar and spice and everything nice.
They are made of peanut butter.
You know, If I made a daughter out of peanut butter, I’d name her Jif Skippy.
Because if I made a son out of peanut butter, I’d name him Tom.
No, I wouldn’t name him Peter Pan. Because everyone else making boys out of peanut butter name their boys Peter Pan.
Some use chunky, others use smooth.
I don’t have a preference, as long as it isn’t low-cost generic.
If you’re going to make a daughter out of peanut butter, use quality ingredients.
Resource
The company handbook says that their most important resource is their employees.
Bullshit. When you work for SolarNet Energy, the most precious resource is the orbiting array of reflectors and collectors.
If there’s a choice between you and the array…
Let me rephrase that. There is no choice. We protect the array at any cost.
Any cost.
The previous CEO of the company wanted a ribbon-cutting ceremony.
I said “Dumb idea.”
She insisted. And she accidentally started an electron cascade reaction.
After they pulled out her charred corpse and fixed the grid, I said “Well done, guys. Flip the switch.”
Hostages
Gunshots.
Screams.
Alarms.
Shouting.
Then, after a while, sirens.
The bank job went sour, so the robbers took hostages.
“We brought plenty of water and food for ourselves,” they said. “Either meet our demands or these hostages can starve.”
Pizzas and cokes arrived quickly, but the FBI refused their demands.
“Don’t you want a helicopter?” they asked. “Or a bus to the airport?”
“Nope,” the robbers said. “We want horsey-back rides out of here. We hadn’t had those in years and loved getting them as kids.”
When the situation was over, the FBI had to admit, they had fun, too.
Feathers
She carries the sack full of feathers.
I carry the fan, dragging a long extension cord behind me.
When we get to the Henderson’s, I set down the fan
She opens up the sack.
I turn on the fan.
It’s loud. Really loud.
The strongest one I could find that I could still carry.
She knocks on the door.
But I can’t hear it. The fan is that loud.
I can’t hear the deadbolt turning and the door opening, either.
But I hear the yelling when she dumps the feathers on the fan.
That’s when the feathers start to fly.
Smithereens
The kids built an airship, rigging bicycles and peach-crates to a massive solar-heated airbag with a lightweight steering and ballast system.
After a few test flights and an inspection by the county engineer, I gave them permission to take it to school.
“Check the forecast,” I said. “If there’s any chance of rain, you’re taking the bus or walking.”
They used to ride their bikes, but those were now a part of the airship.
Pedaling quickly, they rise into the air gracefully.
That’s when I see their bookbags still on the porch.
Little scamps!
I run for a dangling tether-rope.
Weekly Challenge #271 – “Apple Pie”
Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.
This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Seventy-One, 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 Apple Pie
How about voting for your favorites?
And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.
Zackmann
How can you be cooking apple pies at a time like this? Can’t you see the city is under siege and
being destroyed?
Relax dude, had to.
Why
Because we are out of pumpkin.
Theres a zombie in a spacesuit what should do.
Chillax, tell him were not very smart but we love Old Time Radio then point towards college
housing.
Zombie says Doctor Despicable is coming and you bake pies, are you sure your brainless?
Of course I am did you hear me use the words Dude and chillax?
When Doctor Despicable gets here I’ll lunching on college brains .
Pies, oh I love pies and destruction. What a wonderful day with more explosions than the Fourth
of July. Some wise citizen baked me a whole front deck full of apple pies. What is wrong, were
you out of pumpkin?
Sorry Doctor Despicable but all our pumpkins disappeared through a mysterious hole in the
space time continuum.
Lobo, load the pies into the Winnebago. To show my gratitude, I will not intentionally destroy
your house. Did you happen to see a zombie in a spacesuit or an odd man eating beef jerky or
mayonnaise sandwiches and babbling about Tony Danza?
Guard 13007
The editor rejected my manuscript. I called him up to ask about it, “Why did you reject my writing? It was good! I had extant word choice!” I picked a word at random from the wall, trying to remember what ‘extant’ meant.
“What? That doesn’t even make sense! And what’s with the word ‘enunciate’ all over? People don’t ‘enunciate’! They yell, scream, whisper, say!”
“Well my characters do enun… uh, enunciate!”
“And why the hell is it titled ‘Apple Pie’? That makes the least sense of all!”
“It makes perfect sense!” I yelled back, hanging up and grabbing another slice.
Tom
My oldest friend is a descendent of Johnny Appleseed. Seems more that just apple seeds got sow across the Ohio River valley. His mom had this recipe for Apple Pie that has been dated around 1760. Some speculated it could be from Elizabeth Chapman who handed it down to her son John. I’ve had some of that pie and can safely say if Mr. Chapman infected the settlers of the early Midwest with that heroin of desserts he would have had folk clambering for apple trees. I still have a hankering for a steaming piece of Mrs. Throne’s apple pie.
Danny
“What do I want for dessert? Hmm, I always imagined NJ Governor Chris Christie running on the platform of: ”Vote for me, I’m as American as Apple Pie.” It’s a sick, twisted vision planted in my head. Clearly I’ve gone to far this time. I love apple pie, now I can’t get the image of that bloated corpse every time I dig into my favorite dessert. Again, I have desecrated a dessert by my sad yet demented view of partisan politics in the United States. So I think I’ll have the cherry pie instead.” The waiter, sighing heavily, walks away.
Steven the Nuclear Man
She struggles in the trunk. The Chevy’s steel frame muffles her
thumps and cries; the cotton in our ears does the rest.
The CEO of EMI glances at me, but I stare determinedly ahead. This is
too important. Too much rides on today. This isn’t our normal gig,
but it’s one we have to play.
She is gorgeous, even tied, even gagged. I knew – KNEW – how she was
responsible from everything from Greensleeves to Blueberry Hill.
We shoot her, bullets thrashing her flesh, her body tumbling down the
dusty levee. Our careers in the music industry are safe once again.
Norval Joe
The family across the street had a fourth of july party and invited us out of a neighborly spirit.
We had all the traditional food and music. There were tamalies, carne asada, and pasoli. For desert we had churros.
The was a mariachi band that played all the popular favorites. Songs by Banda archangel er quince, Los Tigres del norte and Los Angeles Negros.
Before the fireworks we busted open a pinata of President Obama.
Two months ago, they threw a party almost identical to this one.
I thought, this time they’d at least have apple pie.
Welcome to California.
TJ
Martin ordered a slice of apple pie and took a seat against the window.
With the afternoon sun streaming behind him he had the best perspective
on the coffeeshop while he himself resisted the notice of others. This
bookstore café was also one of the three best spots in the mall for
scoping out the food court and more to the point, the wifi hot spots. He
wanted to do some actual epsionage and discovered his notebook wireless
computer had been encountering a homegrown virus here. He’d been
narrowing suspects for awhile now, and was closing in on… The Hacker.
Planet Z
Ronnie came up with a lot of crazy pie-in-the-sky ideas, but an actual pie factory in the sky was his craziest.
He was going to bake pies in the sky for passengers.
“Why not bake them on the ground and carry them onboard?” we said.
“It’s all about the smell,” he replied. “That fresh-baked pie in the oven smell. Oh, that aroma!”
Now, this was the thirties, and airplanes weren’t the huge jetplanes they are today. Not enough room.
So he talked to the Germans, and they agreed.
As the Hindenberg burned, Ronnie screamed: “My pies! Oh, the oven mitts!”
You may now kiss the… WHAT?
I got married in Vegas eleven years ago.
It was a small ceremony. Friends and family.
And a preacher who was drunk out of his fucking mind.
He stumbled and slurred his way through the ceremony, and he couldn’t stop staring down the Maid Of Honor’s dress.
Then, at the end, he said “You may now kiss the bridge.”
“Don’t you mean bride?” I asked.
But by then, he was passed out, and I thought I smelled gas, so we all ran for it before a spark could blow us all to Kingdom Come.
What about the bridge?
Tasted… rusty.
Ring
Packed crowd at Madison Square Garden.
A boxer climbs through the ropes and steps into the ring.
The crowd roars.
Another boxer climbs in.
More cheering.
The boxers wait.
“Where’s the ref?” asks the first boxer.
“I dunno,” says the other.
They turn to their corners, but their managers and crews don’t have a clue, either.
A microphone is lowered on a cord, but there’s nobody to take it.
So, one of the boxers grabs it and begins to sing.
The other joins in as harmony.
The crowd loves it.
Beats getting the shit beaten out of you, I suppose.
The Apple
I like to go to the store and buy a bunch of different kinds of apples.
Red. Golden. Macintosh.
All different kinds.
Then I bring them home and slice them up, making an apple buffet.
Each apple has its own unique texture, tartness, sweetness, and juiciness.
I try them all, closing my eyes and picking out slices to put in my mouth, chew slowly, swallow.
I thought about putting out caramel and honey and other things to dip them in, or walnuts and peanuts to roll them in.
But for me, the apples are enough.
Here. Have one, Snow White.