Fluffyboy

My cat has a boyfriend.
He’s a fluffy grey and brown seal-point.
And he’s friendly. He rubbed against my leg and let me pet him.
I said “Hi, Fluffyboy.”
And he looked up and meowed.
“Is that your name? Fluffy?”
No reaction.
“Boy?”
He meowed again.
I met his owner, and yes, his name is Boy.
And my cat goes to visit him at their place now and then.
Now, when the back door is open, Boy will come visit, have some kibble, use a litterbox, and meow once.
Myst follows him outside, and they go play in the dirt.

The Case of the Amber Rose of the Amazon – Part 14

The detective raised a hand but not an eye while scanning hungrily over the remainder of the doctors notes which read:

Mr. Adams and the 2nd Stenographer are leaders of the young unmarried set

The Janitor, a miser, has occupied the attic of the firm since boyhood

Miss. Hill looks forward to lunching with the president of the Y.U.S.

The fashionable Teller is the son-in-law of the 1st Stenographer.

Mr. Jones secretly gives his discarded clothing to the elderly Bookkeeper Evans

“I have them all and I have the key to unlock the door,”

“We make for Mr. Adams residence”

Greeters

Most Wal-Mart greeters are extremely old people dressed in a bright company shirt who wave a hand and smile and welcome you to Wal-Mart.
It’s a job that could be done with a sign or a robot, but the old people turn out to be cheaper.
Especially if you only hire them for a few weeks as a “greeter contractor” so you don’t have to pay them health benefits.
Sure, it’s rather scummy, using them up and tossing them aside, but in Wal-Mart’s defense, it does get boring seeing the same old old person there at the door, greeting me.

Ukrid The Wise

What makes Ukrid The Wise so wise?
He surrounds himself with many wise men, of course.
Whenever he needed to make a decision, he asked the wiser men surrounding him, and they shared their wisdom with him.
Then, in spite of the sage advice, he would make a decision so outrageous, it would annoy the hell out of the people affected by it.
They’d call for his death, and a few brave souls would come after Ukrid with axes and arrows.
Then, Ukrid would cower behind his circle of wise men, letting them take the blows until his guards arrived.

The Cat And The Camera

I bought a wireless microcamera the other day, and for fun, I clipped it to my cat’s collar.
It took her a while to get used to the thing, but she did.
The monitor showed her jumping the fence, watching birds, and running through the grass after lizards and frogs.
She took a turn into an old barn, and there were dozens… hundreds of cats in there.
Their mouths were moving, but I couldn’t hear anything.
One pointed to the collar.
They sniffed it, and then swarmed out the barn door.
Um… I think I’ll go out for a pizza.

Fighters

After the revolution, the transitional government sent some of their wounded fighters to an American hospital for treatment and rehabilitation.
While the patients healed up, the hospital offered television and newspapers from their homeland, and the kitchen prepares meals of pita bread and olives instead of the usual bland fare with lime Jell-O the other patients get.
Even though they had an interpreter, yellow sticky notes were placed on various items to help the patients learn some basic English words.
As a prank, some notes were switched.
The nurse listened, nodded and smiled. “I guess television is a toilet everywhere.”

Three Little Gods

The first little pig built his god out of straw.
The second little pig built his god out of wood.
The third little pig built his god out of stone.
They fought amongst themselves as to which followed the true faith.
The wolf didn’t believe in any religious nonsense, but he was good at faking it.
One by one, he let the pigs “convert” him, taking all three of his would-be saviors captive.
The stone, he used for a roasting pit.
The wood made an excellent frame.
And the straw lit easily.
“By the gods, so delicious,” moaned the wolf.

Weekly Challenge #336 – Broken

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Thirty-Six, 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 Broken.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

The next weekly challenge is on the topic of football.

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

Bedcat

JEFFREY

Sales Call
by Jeffrey Fischer

They called me broken down, career over. It’s true I’ve had my setbacks. My sales numbers aren’t what they used to be, and I know I would have landed the Carson account back in my prime.

Still, this old boy has some fight in him. Stan, my boss, said I needed to win this account or I was out. No excuses. I swore I’d have the signed docs on his desk by tomorrow, and I don’t intend to fail.

You’re comfortable, right? The duct tape isn’t wrapped too tightly? Nod if you agree. Now just sit pat. When the deal is signed, I’ll be back to untie you. Don’t look at me like that. I’ll do it. I’m not broken.

TURA

I had an idea of the perfect pot. An idea so fragile that it trembled when I thought of it.

I spent two months making it, turning the finest clay on a kick-driven wheel (no soulless electric contraption would do), carving the designs, and then multiple rounds of painting, glazing, and firing.

But something went wrong in the final firing. I don’t know what. Too hot, too cool, too long, too short… The pot distorted and cracked.

But this is modern art! Who cares what it looks like! So I’ll just exhibit it as is. I’ll call it “Broken Pot”.

MUNSI

Why I Never Get Anything Done

By Christopher Munroe

I sit, trying to write, but all I can think about is Point Break.

Love that film…

The Swayze is at the peak of his power, invincible, and what passes for the plot is so wildly over the top that it’s impossible to watch without a big, dopey grin.

Even Keanu isn’t too objectionable. But it’s not like his acting chops are being particularly stretched…

It’s as perfect a dumb actioner as could be, and yes, I should be writing, and yes, I don’t have time for a movie, but still…

Point Break, man…

Screw it, productive work can wait…

THOMAS

The spindle was broken, and the 45 was not centered on the turntable. Everyone at the party was too whacked to manage the record player. The Rolling Stones’ tune, Satisfaction, played on through the night. The distorted and repeated tune made everything and everyone even more contorted. As the record spun, it produced a wow and swoosh as the needle danced across the vinyl. Two beautiful, black women embraced inside the bathtub, and didn’t stop making out if anyone went inside to use the toilet while they were there. I went outside, across the street, and watched the house vibrate.

##

The party was in San Francisco. A guy across the room remarked about the toenails on my chair being too red, and I, threatened by his familiarity, told him to shut up or I’d break him. My date had re-familiarized herself with her old boyfriend. He supplied all the chemicals that night, made with his lab and tools he took with him from a British chemical company when he moved to the States. Brian was the first, white collar, industrial spy I knew. He financed his lifestyle and two-story apartment with formulas and processes he sold to his American employer.

##

She was a broken woman. She lost her job at the coffee house, and her boyfriend broke up with her after catching her running around with his friend. He spread despicable and ugly rumors about her, and everyone was afraid to get close to her. She dyed her brown hair, blond, and went to law school. After college, she found herself writing books and moving into a career as a speaker, columnist and television personality. Never able to get her body weight above 60 pounds, Ann has been accused of being a pre-op transexual because of her prominent Adams’ apple.

##

Bill was broke. He sold all his books and records, gathered his essentials together, and fitted his ‘72 Oldsmobile as his home on wheels. He drilled a hole in the floor of the back seat so he could relieve himself, inconspicuously, at night while parked in the Walmart lot. He’d curl up in his sleeping bag, crack the front window a bit for air, and sleep until sunrise. No one bothered him, but he had to put up with another car dweller parked nearby. She fell in love with Bill, and wanted to move in with him. Bill drove away.

SERENDIPITY

My dad was not the most patient of men. He had his own way of fixing broken household goods: Whatever the problem, televisions, washing machines, vacuum cleaners, even broken-down automobiles could all be repaired with a good hard thump, clout or kick.

Occasionally he’d find success and the hapless piece of equipment would stutter onwards until the next violent ‘repair’ became necessary, but, inside… loosened components, cracked circuits and broken connections told a different story.

In the end, no matter how hard he thumped them – they stayed broken.

I could have told him that.

It never worked on me.

LIZZIE

“There was a war, a long time ago,” said the father. “They conquered the world.”

A broken fighter plane had been rusting in the open field.

“Is that why we can’t talk?” the son asked.

His father looked around fearing someone had heard them.

“Don’t say those things, son, you’ll get us in trouble,” the father whispered. “I think we should remove this junk and clean the field.”

The son crossed his arms.
“You know what? I think we should leave it, Dad. One day I’ll bring my son here and tell him about the war, so we don’t forget…”

MERRY

Space Storm by Merry O’Casey

Life’s turbulence is circumscribed by grace
of limited expectancy, its form
as nebulous and changing as a storm,
as anchored by our atmosphere from space.

When she stormed out saying she needed space, her anger made me so angry. How petty our arguments seem against the measure – well, against any measure, really. Against the broader measure of our own lives’ spans, or against the greater intensity of the suffering of refugees or tortured prisoners or mine slaves. Such indulgence: to have a quarrel about nothing at all.

And against the measure of space, and its storms? “Petty” doesn’t begin to describe – and I don’t mean to belittle her emotions or even mine by putting it all in perspective. I only wonder, why couldn’t we have parted normally, casually, that morning of all mornings?

Or desperate ridiculous desire: why could we not have known this was our final parting and given one another some token kindness to carry, she to wherever it is she’s drifting, I to where I’m bound.

Bound for nowhere but simply bound, aimless and earthbound, I look up at the stars on those nights when a few can still be seen, and curse the storm that carried her ship adrift in space.

Curses aimed at the infinite are unsatisfying. All there is to find at fault, are our own limitations: our inability to see any moment together, even a moment of annoyance, as better than time forever apart.

ZACKMANN

“His parents are divorced so he comes from a broken home
He does not fit well into our restroom but he will go outside because
he is housebroken.
He sang nerdcore in a band called Front and Centeur but he and
Frontalot broke up.
He has a girlfriend who works in a bookstore. He has gone broke buying books.
Her parents didnt like her dating a Centeur and now he is heartbroken.”
“I said I wanted a broke horse for children to ride at my kiddy
carnival but get him a background check because we have a position for
him.”

REDGODDESS

Lola walks toward the hotel garage to check the areas before leaving. As she approached the rear of the building, she notices a broken window on one of the cars and a man placing objects into a bag. Lola tiptoes toward the exit door to page security. Her heart is beating fast; she decides to go against all of her common sense and charge the burgler. That is the last thing she remembers. She is awoken by a kiss, her mans smile. She is in a hospital.
“Who did this?” He asks. She looks at her broken arm and curses.

###

Lola takes a deep breath and reaches for his hand. He seems so sincere when they’re together. He knows she wants to wait and that her heart has been broken before, he tells her it is okay with his dark eyes. Lola touches his beautiful lips with her finger and tells him to be quiet. She traces an ice cube down his muscular neck and shoulders, she kisses his rugged skin. “I’m ready,” she whispers. He lifts her onto the wooden table in the dining room she looks at the door hoping no one comes in as they become one.

BROKALI

I got the call at seven.

” Brokali?”

“Yes.”

“He finally did it, killed himself getting groceries, meet us at headquarters.”

Headquarters is a secret place for 100 word geeks.

“You’ll have to take over.”

“I can’t handle his workload. He has Sims, weekly challenges, people actually attend his events. He has cats.”

I went into a full panic. I passed out and was put on an IV, hospitalized, I turned and to my surprise I saw Crap Mariner.

“I thought you were dead.”

“Worse, I’ve broken my arm and need robot screws .”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

BONCHANCE AND SEVI

Broken

Have you ever heard that saying “you never forget how to ride a bike, no matter how long it’s been”?
Just climb back up and take off! Weeee!!!

What they don’t tell you is that you forget how to maintain your maturity once mounted.

The first 3 jumps went smoothly. I was over confident and thinking I was that cool, freewheeling, kid with no fear.
Yes, doc I know “how lucky” and fortunate to “only” have one broken leg and a dozen cracked ribs.

Yes doc, I know to be more careful next time…Yes doc, I know I’m not sixteen!

Broken 2

Pablo, the black and white spaniel and his pal Sparkles, the obese calico, sporting a bright pink ribbon, had broken a rule on their last adventure.
The regulations dictated that they needed to get prior approval from “The Chairman”.

Sparkles pled the 5th when Pablo inquired about his knowledge of the rules.

Every neighborhood had their big bully but all knew that they ultimately answered to Chairman Meow.
Molly and Maggie the twin wiener dogs gave Pablo a little book of the neighborhood rules for future reference.

Sparkles ordered Pablo to take the rap and meet with Chairman Meow immediately.

Broken 3

John and George sat in the living room chatting about football.
“How long will you be in town John?”
“Just for today George, I was really hoping to connect with Linda”

“She is out shopping today, he snapped”

John noticed a bloody fingerprint on their wedding photo, the glass in the frame was broken.
In the hall, an edge of a suitcase was in view. That large mirror Linda loved from Italy was missing.

John stood telling himself to act natural. He shook George’s hand and left.
His back felt exposed as he turned from George and quickly walked away.

TARALYN

NO TEXT

DANNY

The worst thing your orthopaedic surgeon can tell you is there is to much swelling in your broken leg, your going to have to spend at least a week in bed with your leg elevated above your heart so the swelling will go down enough that a cast can actually be placed on your leg. That is what I was told when I was 19, after falling off a rope swing while drunk, landing on the banks of the Delaware river, breaking my lower right leg in the process. I spent that summer of my life in bed, and it sucked.

CLIFF

The interrogator had promised to break me. He told me that every man could be broken given enough time. I had laughed at him. That was weeks ago. Since then, there has been deprivation, torture both physical and mental, and always the question.
“What is two plus two?”
This morning, he came into my cell, gave me my clothes back, and announced that I was cured and was free to go.
“What do you mean?” I asked. “You didn’t break me.”
“What is two plus two?” he asked.
I replied “It’s still four.”
“Exactly,” he said and left the room.

TOM

It was my last semester at the JR College. I was 3 months from turning 40. If I had been 40 that fateful night I wouldn’t have been in the gym in front of a volleyball net. At the time I thought how much trouble could I get in tapping a ball around. Hour one I take a hard step forward and feel a foot behind me smash into the back of my ankle. I yell, “What the fuck did you do?” The problem was the guy was a good 12 feet away. “Dude you ripple out your Achilles tendon.”

NORVAL JOE

“How is this goblin cube going to save us, Shareekwa?” Owen asked.
“Simply this, Owen. The Door of the Goblin King is an enchanted way-stone. There are compass stones constructed near every goblin-tribe settlement. This stone will transport us from one to another.
“I’m sure Elbownor knows the incantation. Come. Let’s find the compass stone.”
The company spread out and searched the forest as they walked toward the goblin village.
“Just before sunset. Traveler called out, “Found it.”
The company gathered around a pile of broken stones.
“We should camp here tonight,’ The ranger said, “I’ll try to fix it.”

KIMI

The small robed man rubbed his freshly shaven head in a

circular motion. He had burst into the kitchen and half yelled

“rats!” over and over, along with a stream of what may have

been Tibetan. Geshe was normally such a quiet and

reserved person, I grew concerned about his agitated state.

“rats”, he said again, curling his lips and squinting his eyes.

“Where?” I finally managed to interject. He grasped my shirt

sleeve and drug me to the front room wher he stood in cront

of the habitrail. “Gerbils” I pronounced. “Gurr-balls” he

returned in broken English. “Rats” I smiled.

PLANET Z

King Rufus didn’t like magic, so instead of a Court Magician, he hired a Royal Spellbreaker.

Once a mage of the wizards Guild, the spellbreaker had been expelled over a petty dispute. He made his living revealing the tricks behind the feats of wonder his former colleagues performed.

Love potions were analyzed and revealed to be nothing more than colored alcohol.

Cursed swords just intentionally mis-balanced by the blacksmith.

And the many wondrous beasts of the kingdom nothing more than unusually-groomed poodles.

“You’re just a man in an ice demon suit,” he said mockingly to his would-be assassin.

And died.

Good Eatin

We needed to get into town to pick up supplies, so we got in the boat and headed for the mainland.
It was a calm day, so we fired up the motor, despite manatee safety restrictions in the area.
Sure enough, we heard a loud WHUMP! and we fell to the deck.
I lost my sunglasses in the water. Damn.
Oh well.
I looked to see what we’d hit.
A dead manatee, floating on the surface.
“What wine goes with manatee?” I asked.
The captain grinned and pulled out a bottle. “This.”
We hauled it aboard and dashed back home.

Weekly Challenge #335 – Cube

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Thirty-Five, 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 Cube.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

Lap panther

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

Ms. Anderson’s voice grated. “Are you enjoying trunk-or-treat, Billy? You make such a cute angel!” She handed him several cubes of low-fat, low-sugar, low-taste caramel.

Billy scowled. “I wanted to be a werewolf.”

Billy’s mother blanched. “Billy, is that any way to be on Beggar’s Night?”

Billy shook off the costume’s wings and walked away. “It’s Halloween,” he muttered, low enough that neither woman heard him.

In the brilliance of the headlights, the congregation planned their defense against the War On Christmas.

Billy looked past the lights, past the suburbs, to the moon beginning to rise.

Billy began to howl.

JEFFREY

The Cube
by Jeffrey Fischer

I concentrated and my world shrank around me. In my mind I could see the universe contract: galaxies collapsed, solar systems merged, planets melded, the Earth shriveled until I was a singularity. No noise, no distractions, no *people*. Bliss.

Heaven was shattered by a bleating sound to my left. The universe expanded again, leaving me in a cacophony of phone conversations, small talk, sports radio, and several different kinds of music. The final straw came when Dwayne popped his head over the cubicle wall. “Hey, man, you wanna get a cup of coffee?” The smell of his everything bagel was still rich on his breath.

I sighed. “Sure. It’s not as though I’m getting anything done here.”

THOMAS

They lived in a white, multi-windowed cube. Designed by third year students of architecture at Technische-Hochschule in Darmstadt, Germany, and manufactured of resined paper, the two story, two-bedroom home was not only roomy and comfortable in all weather, but it was portable. Made in ten sections, the house and utility hook-ups could be loaded onto a flatbed truck and transported easily to a building site. All of the living room’s inside walls were left unpainted, and covered with clear sealant. The German, Dutch and Danish newspapers and soft porn magazine covers provided entertainment for visitors and residents, alike.

##

The sugar cube was supposedly doctored with LSD. Sold to us for ten dollars in a Greenwich Village Coffee house, I and my Coast Guard mates were sold, plain sugar cubes taken from the table next over, by a bearded hippie. During the summer of 67’, we had gone to New York to seek adventures in the Big Apple. After dissolving the cube and waiting for forty-five minutes, we realized we had been duped by the sly fellow, and concluded that our fresh, pink faces and uniforms gave us away, distinguishing us as rubes from the base in Cape May.

##

Margaret Cho is as funny as a cube of compacted horse dookie. She’s loud, popular with the gay crowd, and has found an audience that appreciates her vulgar humor and imitations of her Korean mother. She is more annoying than stepping barefoot in a fresh load of dog poop. There are a lot of more clever, intelligent, creative comediennes than Cho. Funny women are an aphrodisiac, I confess. My old friend, Sharon, a nurse on Amtrack in the 60’s, made me laugh so hard I fell to the floor, held my aching sides, and I recall, I widdled a little.

##

The Cubists were known for their unique approach to painting and design. Alphonso Derigueur, a little known French painter, took his art far beyond the realm of two-dimensional surface painting. Derigueur developed expressive and allusive abstractions dedicated to complex sexual and auto-erotic themes, often constructed of chunks of lean beef and pork, all originating at his Uncle Kenny’s farm. His objects were broken into component planes and geometric solids… cubes, spheres, and cones. The sculpture became a pervasive influence and contributed fundamentally to the early adoption of backyard barbeques, tubes of liverwurst and an array of Oscar Meyer lunch meats.

TOM

The cube was vast and sublime. Smooth despite its age. “It must have had a purpose,” said Frank. “Nope,” returned Rudy. “Just look at it. It’s the biggest damn thing in the whole valley.” “So” “No one just builds a giant old cube in the middle of nothing for no reason.” “Ok, religious artifact.” “You don’t believe that.” “Oh contraire, it divides the universe into six active and passive parts.” “What?” “OH holy Quadrilateral frustum giver of light food and water protect us from darkness hunger and drought.” “It’s a regular hexahedron.” “Whatever.” “Rudy what does Jack-in-the-Box mean?” “Beats me.”

MUNSI

The corners must be ninety degrees. Exactly ninety. Eighty-nine or ninety-one won’t do. It’s important that the angles are correct, lest it isn’t a cube.

The sides, similarly, must be equal length, though what length is up to you. It’s consistency we need here, not specific measurement.

And lastly, it must exist. A cube that exists is by definition more perfect than one that doesn’t.

Also, it should be all-knowing, all-powerful, and the creator of the universe. These things also increase its perfection.

And there you have it. The perfect cube.

Now: To find a use for such a thing…

KIMI

NO TEXT

SERENDIPITY

Somewhere out there, there’s an alternative universe, where spheres simply don’t exist… (take the third wormhole on the right for a few million light years).

In the cubiverse, star-shaped stars shine upon six-sided planets as they describe their awkward, trapezoid orbits through space, (negotiating the corners can be a bit tricky at times!). And there, in the Goldilocks Zone, is an improbable blue planet, inhabited by a race that has never known the circle.

Cars lurch on square wheels, footcube is a favourite sport and Excel never complains about circular arguments.

Please don’t fall off the edge though!

JEFF

I Miss My Mother

Since being married, I feel like my personal space is shrinking.
Whenever I try to check on my friends on Facebook, she keeps breathing down my neck. Sometimes we fight because, according to her, if I reduce the window then I’m doing something suspicious.
I remember once she got on my case when she checked my mailbox and found a spam email about dating. Of course I had nothing to do with that but it was enough to call our relationship into question.
Now we’re deprived of the Internet and I don’t know for how long it’s going to last.

ZACKMANN

“If only I knew that Rubiks Cubes would be popular again, I would have
bought a couple at a dollar store a few years ago.” Said Zack
“I thought they were popular when you were a kid” said Drew
“and how would you know?”
“the same way I know everything about your childhood.”
“your grandmother told you?”
“No, Dad someone made a cartoon about it and I read it on TV Tropes.
What happened the to one you had as a kid and did you solve it?”
“Oh yes son, I solved mine with the aid of a sledge hammer”

CLIFF

I tossed the dice across the table. The tiny white cubes danced and fell to reveal garbage.
Death chuckled and scooped up the dice. “Time to roll the bones.”
That was his favorite joke. It was starting to get on my nerves. Still, he was Death. He could get away with dark humor. He rolled.
“Yatzee!”
We groaned. Death had won again. I started cleaning up the empty bottles.
Death gathered his scythe and started towards the door.
“Scrabble on Thursday?”
You have an appointment…with Death.” He’s a nice guy, but his humor gets a little old after a while.

TURA

Behold the People’s Palace! A perfect cube, the perfect symbol for our perfect country! The great banqueting hall within, a perfect cube, and each of the council rooms!

I was the architect. The old ways are proscribed, but I studied them secretly. Anyone in the old days could tell you that a cube is the worst possible shape for a building. The feng shui remains directionless, stagnant. It festers. Our Benevolent Leaders last about three years living in it, and every minister hates those meeting rooms.

And I know exactly where to set explosives, to bring the whole thing down.

LIZZIE

Cube 1

It’s sad not to fit in. It creates stress and loneliness. It shakes beliefs and disrupts inner balance. He didn’t fit in. He tried to, for a long time. He tried a hat, wearing green, putting on makeup. Everyone mocked him. He tried black and blue, he tried peace for all. Everyone mocked him still. He tried the word; he tried a vow of silence. He tried, despite the sneers, the mockery, and the disdain. So he folded himself in four and slid into the transparent cube in the corner of the room. Now he would fit in. Status: Invisible.

Cube 2
Place a cube on top of another, carefully, oh so carefully. Link everything with strings, and link it well. Turn it around a few times and upside down, just to test it. Does it fall apart? No? Good, it’s done. Now place the giant on the floor. It will take a step, then another. It will walk. And it did. The problem was that the cities of the world were not ready for its massive stepping. And it was even worse when the giant started stomping enthusiastically all over, inspired by a certain group who likes garbage cans and brooms.

MONDAY

Cube hates his job at the psychology lab. His life seems to him to be just one long cycle of others literally attempting to put him into a round hole. For starters there is his job title: “square peg”. That implies a somewhat more rectangular height profile and he is a cube: three inches by three inches by three inches. That title doesn’t pop on the resume of an upwardly mobile cube. Why, he could contribute the stability of his very being to something. He only took this gig for the money. What he really wants to do is direct.

BONCHANCE AND SEVI

Cube

Carol said, “Here is your cube Mr. Dodgson.”

Charlie was very unhappy with the irregularity of the vertex’s and sides. He sat thinking he had hit rock bottom in his career as a mathematician!
After further introspection he pulled out some paper and began writing his first children’s story.

With his first chapter inked his decision was final. He handed Mr. Jaberwicke his resignation. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson aka Lewis Carroll, went on to be quite a prolific author and a pretty good photographer.

Moral to the story: If you put a mathematician in a cube, make sure it shapes up!

Cube

Pablo was slumped over in his chair. Rescuing Pepe was harder than he thought.

He was exhausted. Pablo swirled his paw to make the ice cubes in his gin and tonic tinkle on the side of his crystal tumbler. Yes off the Scotch now!

He stared at the cubes dancing and bobbing transfixing his gaze mesmerizing him. Memories of a clumsy clown returned.
A sudden chill went up his spine raising all his fluffy black and white fur.

He never imagined he would bite a human, even an evil one! The only thing funny about that clown was the taste!

REDGODDESS

This summer has been the hottest since Lola started at the hotel. She got in the habit of drinking an iced mocha topped with whipped cream at her old job when stressed. Now, her budget allows for iced water. Her mind wanders to him. Their last date was a welcoming surprise offsetting her madness. Staring at her iced water, Lola daydreams about their shared champagne. What she would like to do with each ice cube. She becomes lost in her fantasy when his gentle voice interrupts her. “Penny for your thoughts” She turns and sees him,”I’d rather show you.”

NORVAL JOE

Fortunately for the company, except Spleen, the majority of the gore from the exploding goblin giant blasted away. Spleen lay within the proximity of the forward blast, covered in greenish red gore, his right arm extended before him, his hand in a fist.
The company inched forward between the larger gobs of gore and stood around the fallen half-goblin.
“What have ye in yer hand, Spleen?” Flindert asked.
Spleen’s only movement was to slowly open his fist. On his palm sat a translucent silver cube.
Shareeka gasped, “The door of the goblin king. Spleen, you may have saved us all.”

DANNY

Professor Rubik, what’s all the hype about this “Cube” you have created? “It’s a 3D Mechanical Puzzle,” Professor Rubik responded. I felt compelled to point out in my response, in the most uncompromising of terms, “what significance will a 3D Mechanical Puzzle have on American culture, as well as the rest of the world?” Professor Rubik fired back, “My creation is not just mathematical, it’s pure sulpture! My purpose was to solve a structural problem, moving the parts of my cube independently without it falling apart, I didn’t realize I created a puzzle until the first time I scrambled it!

TJ

There’s a pile of boxes in the living room. It’s smaller than it was two weeks ago when we moved them all in, but it’s still there. I haven’t been able to take time off from work to actually get settled in my home so I’ve been opening them as I’ve had time. Some of them belong upstairs, so they get put next to the stairs, and whenever either of us need to go upstairs– which is where they installed the washroom– we take a box with us. It gradualizes organization, but everything does eventually get to where it’s going.

PLANET Z

The new place where I work provides delicious catered lunches, so I’ve changed my eating habits from big breakfasts and dinners to large lunches with lighter breakfasts and dinners.

Dinner is usually a bag of frozen vegetables in a light sauce of some kind or another.

Kroger sells these for a buck.

The peas are round and green.

The green beans are little green cylinders.

And the carrots are perfect tiny orange cubes.

Best of all, they’re handy as ice packs – great for my broken elbow.

So, you think i can write these off as a medical expense?