Franchise Orgy

Okay, so Ronald McDonald opened up his house to families with children receiving critical medical treatment, but have you ever heard about the wild parties at his apartment in the city?
Yeah, I got photos and videos.
Ronald and the Burger King double-teaming Wendy.
The Colonel giving head to Carl, and the Taco Bell dog humping everybody’s leg.
And Jack… well, you can guess what Jack was doing.
They’ve offered me free food for the tapes and the memory cards, but, there’s no way I’d do that.
Not after what I saw them do with those burgers at the party.

Draining

The warning label on that bottle of drain cleaner tells you not to drink it.
And they’re right.
You’re supposed to sip it. Savor it.
Oh, and let the bottle breathe, like a fine wine.
Some people season their drain cleaner with flavors like peppermint or lemon, but a true aficionado will take it straight.
Oh, that skull and crossbones on the label?
That’s just letting you know there’s lots of calcium in there. You know, for healthy bones.
It’s just that the government doesn’t put nutritional labels on drain cleaner.
Do I want some?
No. I only drink diet.

The Walls Have Ears

“The walls have ears,” the nuns tell us.
They are the ears of bad children that talk in class and get dragged by the ear to Mother Superior’s office.
Most kids scream in pain and walk willingly, but the tough ones resist.
The nuns tug harder and… sometimes the lobe tears right off.
After the child is beaten into submission by a flock of nuns with rulers, the prize earlobe is tacked up on the wall as a warning to the rest of the children.
Unless the parents buy it back in the annual Ear Auction.
You know, for charity.

Stolen Dreams

Ever have your dreams stolen from you?
It happens all the time, I know, but what can you do about it?
Can’t call the cops. It’s not a crime to steal dreams.
Can’t file an insurance claim. They’re not covered by homeowner policies.
I tried to put up posters around the neighborhood, but all people called me about was a lost cat and how much I wanted for my lawnmower.
One guy insisted on giving me his credit card number and making me talk dirty to him for two bucks a minute.
And that’s how I got my dreams back.

Referrals

I asked the witch doctor, and he sent me to a fortune teller.
I asked the fortune teller, and she suggested I consult a mountaintop guru.
I climbed the mountain and asked the guru, and he handed me a Ouija board.
I checked with the Ouija board, and it told me to refer to the I Ching.
I tossed the bones and looked them up in the I Ching, and they said I should use a Magic 8 Ball.
I shook the Magic 8 Ball and it said “Answer Hazy, Try Again Later.”
That’s how much my employer’s HMO sucks.

Limber Me Timbers

When Jill finished her Phys Ed and Business degrees, she opened up a yoga studio.
Business was good, plenty of young mothers and forty-somethings needing to lose a few pounds, or keep pounds away.
Then, Wii Fit and other cheaper options came out, followed by the recession.
She tried pilates classes, but those didn’t draw.
“Try a GroupOn,” said a friend.
Half-off coupons brought in a wave of signups to her studio.
Then… disaster.
First day, the room was filled with buccaneers.
One waved a printout in his good hand.
“Yarrr, I signed up fer Pirates classes!”
Damn you, Autocorrect!

Weekly Challenge #331 – Pick Two

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-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 a PICK TWO.

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:

myst in a box

SERENDIPITY

I protested that I wasn’t hungry, but he insisted… and you know how disarming he can be.

“Alright, just a small one”

“No”, he interjected, “pick two. I insist!”

I sighed: “OK. I’ll have two of those wiener dogs, but please, no mustard.”

Big mistake!

As the day wore on, I could feel them executing aerobatic maneouvres and yapping madly inside my stomach… a metabolic assault that would have put Strike Team Alpha to shame.

Then… the inevitable: What went down, swiftly made its way back up.

Oddly, the mess at my feet looked more appetising than the original offering!

THOMAS

Walking was difficult. The arthritis in his knees was painful. His farm home was built on rough and uneven acreage. He’d hobble down to the mailbox to get mail, then hobble over to the chickens to gather the eggs. Poor Ted. He was once a champion tap dancer, and now he was reduced to dragging his aching legs around like two, useless, crooked sticks. He had heard of some home remedies, so he tried wrapping his knees with duct tape, or rubbing them every night with WD-40, but it didn’t work. Ted finally gave into rotational field quantum magnetic resonance.

#

Willard’s church wasn’t the only church that believed it a sin to use conundrums. His church said he should abstain, rather than use them. The one that got him in the most trouble, and caused him to be asked to immediately resign as senior Elder, was the day he stood in front of the congregation and asked, “What do you do when you see an endangered animal eating an endangered plant?” Preceding the most excruciating question, were the questions he put to the other elders: “Why am I running for President, and What was the best thing before sliced bread?”

#

The 2012 Metabolic Award was given to Teddy Tedesco of Milpitas, California, for having the highest metabolism in the local health and sports club. Teddy’s was so high, he would have to ingest 20,000 calories a day in order to maintain his weight. It cost him a fourth of his wages each week for food, and because he ate at home, his wife was exhausted, as she seemed to be at the stove for hours every day. Teddy could eat a whole cheese cake, and not gain an ounce. His friends hated him, and his wife hated him even more.

TOM

He moved cross the desert. The remnants of a clerical collar stapled to a fade black shirt. Long ago he had abandoned the remainder of trappings of his faith. Sun, bandits, and Federales had driven the man insane. The only thing that keep his feet moving was the vow. The fall from grace was in ever face he encountered, a constant reminder of the promise to Bishop Le Coeur. “What do you do when the heart is so wounded that love can find no place to take hold” mused the broken priest. The mission was simple: find the Lost Sin.

JEFFREY

Harriet walked with great purpose – or so it seemed to anyone who saw the elderly lady. Truth be told, she had forgotten why she left her room. This had been happening with increasing frequency, and it frightened her. She could recall with clarity high school friends, and elementary school projects she helped her children make, a trip to Edinburgh with her husband in the 1960s, before he became so sick. Now she couldn’t remember where she was going. If she kept walking, Harriet reasoned, both her surroundings and her purpose would once again be clear.

When her legs tired, she sat on a nearby bench. Perhaps a short rest would help jog her memory. In time, she dozed. The sun moved lower in the sky.

Time passed, and the woman, still half asleep, realized she was very cold. She felt a hand on her shoulder, gently shaking her awake. A stranger looked at her with concern. “Mom? What are you doing out here? Let’s get you home.”

LIZZIE

The Lost Award Goes to…

“We have to pay to sail aimlessly?” asked one of the crew members astonished about the unusual contest.

“Yep. Easy,” replied the skipper.

“But…”

It was decided.

They roamed in high waters for days and days up to when food and water became scarce. Then they returned, eager to know who had won. The pier was empty, except for the fluttering envelope:

“Award

To the Sea Pirate.

May you return safely.”

The skipper looked at his crew. There was no sign of the promised prize money though.

“It’s time,” he said, pulling out his automatic. Guess who was lost now!

MUNSI

I lost the award.

Sorry, that was unclear. I realized upon saying it that I could have phrased it better. I’ll try again.

I didn’t win the award.

This should be no surprise, as I wasn’t nominated for the award, or indeed any award. I’m only present at this award show to present the award to whoever happened to win the award at this award show.

That was awkward. Sorry, I’m nervous.

Anyway, a bunch of the award presenters went drinking last night, and we brought the awards. Jagermeister was involved, and…

Erm…

Help me break it to Johnny Depp?

JOE

Title: Day of the Wiener Dogs

After Armageddon, mankind was gone and the wiener dogs were set loose to conquer the Earth. In the first hundred years, they spread slowly throughout Europe moving eastward. Using wiener pontoon boats they crossed into Turkey and onto Asia, then Africa. To cross snow covered mountains they tied wooden spoons to their tiny paws, as snow shoes, leaving only a trail of tiny paw prints until they reached the Great Wall of China. However, springing from stone to stone they easily breached that obstacle to dominate the Eastern Hemisphere. Finally, using wiener blip technology, they slowly drifted towards unsuspecting America.

ZACKMANN

Yes, I have a butler. I got him from a kickstarter project.
I inherited some money from money from Professor Utonium which I
totally wasn’t expecting since all I ever did for him was walk his
arthritic Dachshund and reported a paw print the day it was lost. The
Weiner dog was stuck under a porch but saved due to a slow metabolic
rate. My conundrum is it a sin to award someone a task you know they
dislike because
now the butler is updating my computer and for the next week, Devo
Spice is so My Personal IT guy.

CLIFF

There should have been a sign or a crossroads. There should have been something other than this thin dirt track I’d been following for uncountable days. Every step took me farther away from where I’d been, who I’d been. Details dropped away with the miles. Names of friends, lovers. Faces. My childhood. Even how I’d ended up on this path in the first place. All gone now. All that was left was weeds to either side, a thin ribbon of road leading forward, and the next step. Oh, and that thing that followed, howling, reminding me of all my sins.

TURA

His morning walk always took him through the Meyerplatz, whose modern red brick and concrete architecture continued to annoy him, although, he knew, he had no justification for this response, for it had stood thus ever since the postwar rebuilding, and he had no more than the memory of a young child’s memory that it had once looked different, and even that was long after its heyday at the turn of the century, which he surely knew of only from the faded sepia photographs that had belonged to his parents, now transformed by long familiarity into something indistinguishable from memories.

BONCHANCE AND SEVI

The twin wiener dogs, Molly and Maggie introduced themselves to Pablo as he made the rounds of the neighbourhood. He walked thru the streets in search of new friends, as his Espy suggested.

He was having a grand time with a cute little poodle named Bubbles, until her father, an over protective boxer shooed her into the backyard as he glared at Pablo.

Ahead he saw the wicked calico with another colorful bow walking his way. Pablo crossed the street.

Pablo bragged about new friends. Espi was not pleased. She planned to tighten the leash on her wandering loose springer.

#######

The next story uses sin and conundrum:
Hail to the King, baby!

Lucifer had been working on a dilemma. The logic was indisputable.

His conundrum kept him from directing the other angels in their affairs as he sought the answer.
He was a leader not a follower and didn’t ask advice, he gave it.

God told him he lived in pride, which was a sin.
The Arch Angel Michael tried to warn him that if he chose to go the path he set himself on he would be forever lost.

There can be only one, said Michael.

Lucifer stood saying, “Hail to the King baby!”
Then departed heaven to become a King.

BOTGIRL

Good evening succubi, incubi, goblins, imps, corporate lawyers and radical fundamentalists. Welcome to the 6000th annual Demon’s Choice Awards! We’re coming to you straight from hell, live and undead from the Judas Iscariot Auditorium, Torture Spa and Coffee Bar.

Tonight we’ll recognize the outstanding performer in Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy and Pride. Each deadly sinner will receive a solid gold statue which will be melted down for an excruciating molten metal enema and refreshing Brazilian wax.

We’ll also honor our living sinner of the year, Todd Akin, for popularizing the devilishly clever concept of legitimate rape. Stay tuned!

REDGODDESS

“Paper or plastic,” asks the grocery cashier, rolling her eyes at Lola. It sounds so simple, right. Choose one kind of bag for her frozen dinner. Lola is preoccupied digging through her over-sized work bag to make sure she had enough to pay. Her next door neighbor, the retired Social Worker was in line with her grandsons. She’s usually pretty chatty but today, she too, seems a little beaten down. The kids pick two candy bars from the front shelf. As Lola grabs the paper bag to leave, she notices a folded paper on the ground. It reads, “think less”

NORVAL JOE

“Take this sword, Owen,” Traveler said, dragging out his long sword. “Stand at my back and swing it in circles. It will keep the goblins away and you might even kill a few.”
The fiends hooted and screamed as they oozed from the surrounding woods.
“There are too many,” Owen screamed.
“I’ve seen more, and I haven’t lost my life yet,” Findert Laughed, swinging his great axe, stretching his shoulders. “Aye, but the arthritis makes me shoulders stiff.”
Elbowner’s bow thrummed musically with each shot.
Shareeka blasted out waves of magical energy.
But, Spleen alone was missing from the company.

TJ

Housing appraisers, your sin is sloth. I know you feel like you are getting everyone on the schedule and accommodating us as quickly as you can, but from my perspective as home buyer, your dithering has added two months to the otherwise relatively straightforward transaction of buying a house. I think you should have to be homeless for awhile with all your stuff in storage except for whatever you can fit in the back of a rental car for however long you think any civilized human being should have to live like that. And then … TAKE LESS TIME THAN THAT!

PLANET Z

One of the great things about preseason football games is that you get to watch players giving it their all to make the team.

Of course, there’s always veterans you’ll never replace, no matter how good you are.

A punter with a long-term contract, for instance.

That’s when you call your classmate on the other team on special teams coverage.

“Break the fucker’s leg,” you say. “I’ll split my contract with you.”

And sure enough, the veteran’s out for the season, your buddy gets suspended, and you make the team.

Welcome to professional football…

Until some fucker breaks your leg.

The Case of The Amber Rose of The Amazon – Part 10

“I’ve arranged passage on the Sloop Noval Joe. She sails in the morn …. But first.”

“The Worshipful Company of Makers of Playing Cards is up to some unsavory business. What do you know brother?”

“That the King’s protection is with them

so tread lightly, where we can not tread.

“So you need information?

“And you need a 12 knot vessel

to make the channel crossing.”

“I promise little and most likely will deliver less”

“Humility suites you ill.

“What suit would?”

“Spades”

“Tell the boys in back this is not going to go well.”

“It never does. Goodbye Sherlock”

Radio Over Radio

I don’t listen to radio over the radio anymore.
I listen to it through podcasts and through audio streams on the Internet.
Although, if you think about it, that stuff transmits over radio.
Wireless travels by radio.
A different part of the spectrum. Different set of frequencies.
So, instead of listening to radio over radio’s radio, I listen to radio over the radio that radio doesn’t own.
Streams through the air.
Rivers of music and talk and news and hopes and dreams.
Through the air.
Radio. Over the radio, without radio.
I don’t listen to the radio anymore.
Over radio.

Ill Tempered Dreidel

“I spin my little dreidel
Without a whim or care
No truer words were spoken
Than “A great thing happened there”
I had a little dreidel
I made it out of clay
But the clay came from a golem
Whom the rabbi made obey
Sure, the golem was defeated
By the townspeople of Prague
And the streets were free of evil
Though the sewers all did clog
From the blood of all the victims
That the mighty golem slew
The lesson you should learn
Is to not piss off a Jew”
Rebecca smacked her husband.
“Did you teach him that?”