George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He made up for it by volunteering for the Port Royal Symphony.
George swept the floors, copied sheet music, and performed a variety of menial, but helpful chores.
The director was impressed by George’s efforts.
“We’re planning to perform Tchaikovsky’s 1812 Overture next month,” said the director. “Can you ask your pirate friends to provide the final volley of cannon fire?”
George gladly agreed.
His shipmates didn’t quite understand the request, and ended up laying waste to the concert hall.
George picked up a broom, and began sweeping.
George the hunter
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He also wasn’t a very good hunter.
Instead of setting traps for animals, he’d run after them, failing his cutlass around wildly and shouting obscenities.
George was chasing a strange rabbit in a waistcoat when he fell down a deep hole.
He encountered a bunch of talking animals, which he killed and stuffed into his canvas bag.
As he climbed out of the hole, a little girl accused him of murdering her friends from Wonderland.
George stuffed her into the bag and sent a ransom note to her family.
Weekly Challenge #884 – Shenanegans
The next weekly challenge topic is: Blinded
JARED
WC 883 PICK TWO
A Hip Double Dip
No one could figure out why Roderik spent $12,000 a year for membership in an obscure historical heritage society. They thought the Gothic Heritage and Historical Society sounded made up and pointless. As far as he saw it, it was money well spent. As a history teacher with traceable Visigothic ancestry, he got his membership for half price. As a member, he gets tax credit for the dues, and exemptions on his presidential salary. The group is tax exempt for all donations they receive. And as long as no one tattles, he can keep on being the only member.
WC 884 Shenanigans
Shenanigans
“Shenanigans!” The bar fell silent. “I. Call. SHENANIGANS!” The old man repeated, bellowing.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” responded Steven, hesitantly.
“By the terms laid out in the 2036 Treaty of TikTok, which ended the Internet Prank Wars, you’ve attempted an April Fool’s joke, and I’ve called you on it,” Old Man McCluskey lectured.
There was a mixed response from the rest of the patrons, but most of them nodded in acquiescence of McCluskey’s irrefutable legal standing.
“As is now my right,” he continued, “I will administer the public flogging with the requisite wet noodle. Now bend over.”
NORVAL JOE
Billbert felt Sabrina’s forehead. He was in a quandry. He needed to get her cooled down. He also needed to take advantage of the chaos caused by pulling the roof from the cabin to save Linoliamanda. He struggled to get Sabrina over one shoulder and leapt into the air.
Landing in the back room of the cabin, he looked for his friend.
The old man burst into the room, shouting, “What shenanigans are going on here?”
Billbert gritted his teeth. “That’s a good question. Where is Linoliamanda?”
The man scoffed. “What did you expect, that I would bring her here?”
SERENDIPIDY
The night of the full moon is when we get up to all kinds of shenanigans.
It starts innocently enough, with knocking on doors and running away, but soon progresses to vandalism, bricks through windows, breaking and entering and kidnap.
Then we drag our hapless victims onto the hillside, strip them naked and cut out their hearts on the sacrificial altar as an offering to the gods.
After, it’s back down to the village for a communal supper in the community hall.
It’s tradition, and traditions die hard around these parts.
So do those who choose to complain about us!
TURA
Shenanigans
———
Shenanigans are benign swellings that develop on the flanks of elderly Alsatian dogs.
No, actually they’re maggotty cysts that develop on the bellies of horses. When mature, they drop off and split open on the ground. The emerging horseflies go on to lay their eggs in the bellies of horses, continuing the cycle.
No, the Shenanigans are an Irish rock band.
It’s an Irish version of cullen skink. It’s an Irish jig. It’s a metaphorical jig: “dancing the shenanigans” means underhanded tricks.
It’s a word game of making up new meanings for everyday words.
What do you think it means?
TOM
Descended from Kings
I grew up a third generation American Irish. Which isn’t as bad as being third gen American German, but not as cool as being seventh generation North American French. So, what do get after a century of assimilation, basically what George Carlin would call the: ear. You key in on the sounds that sound Irish. Take shenanigans. Yup, Irish that. We got a pretty good idea about what it means, but what does it mean. Etymologists say it might come from the Irish “sionnachuighim,” meaning “I play the fox. To pull a shenanigan is prompt a greater one in return.
As To The Reason for my Absence
In the 100-word challenge there are a number of mythic designations. Take both the Golden Monkey and Iron Monkey, please. One a total of 100 posted stories and the other the impressive 100 stories in a row. That’s a two-year marathon. Not easy to do. Many of us here have multiple monkeys, not a helpful item in an efficiency apartment. But despite our collective commitment to posting, some weight too heavy to hold, will break us to the ground. Often health, but always some grief of death. It has happened twice in the last two decades. First the death of Emuire.
RICHARD
Granny Shenanigans
‘Granny Shenanigans’ we used to call her. It was one of her favourite words, frequently employed to berate us and put us in our place, whenever we got ourselves into mischief.
“Stop those shenanigans right away, or it’s the naughty step for you!” She’d bellow from upstairs. Instantly we’d stop misbehaving and calm down, terrified of being consigned to the naughty step.
That bottom step was as far up the stairs we were allowed to go.
Only granny and her girls were allowed in the bedrooms, together with the gentleman callers.
And who knows what shenanigans they were up to?
LIZZIE
The class went on a field trip to an Alice in Wonderland theme-park.
At some point, one of the kids yelled “Snake!”. No one reacted. He was the official prankster.
When he yelled “Snake!” again, a girl saw a giant red-eyed snake coming out through the wall. She yelled “Snake!”
“It’s fake,” the kids laughed. “It’s just to scare us.”
The problem was that, when they left the theme-park, the teacher was missing and only half of the kids managed back.
“Where’s everybody?!” Asked the parents.
“In the exhibition. Literally. The snake did it.”
“How?!”
“We are all victims in-waiting.”
PLANET Z
When there’s a prank on campus, everyone looks at Joey. He’s The Prankster. It’s not just having the tools and mechanical skills. It’s knowing people and who can help you with your prank, or who to prank and how and when.
He started with little pranks, like dyeing the fountain water pink. He graduated to hacking the security system so it locked every door. Even the bathrooms. Then, one morning, everyone woke up to the campus being rotated by 90 degrees. Joey, as usual, denied everything. Then he’d smile and wink. And get started on his next, even bigger prank.
George the anchor supervisor
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
On the introvert/extrovert scale, George tested heavily towards introvert.
He kept to himself. Other pirates caroused together in social situations.
“It’s hard to have a battle if you don’t engage with others,” said the captain.
“I can fire a cannon,” said George. “That’s a productive engagement from a distance.”
The captain thought for a moment. “Okay, then congratulations on your promotion to anchor supervisor,” he said.
“Thank you,” said George. So when do I start?”
“Now,” said the captain, as George was chained to the anchor. “Weigh anchor!”
George and the Beanstalk
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
The other pirates sent him to the market for supplies.
They wouldn’t give him any money, though.
George stole what he could, stuffing his pockets and hiding things under his jacket.
One time, he was told to get a cow.
George found a kid with one, but how do you stuff a cow in your pocket?
He found some beans in there.
“Here, kid,” said George. “These magic beans for your cow?”
The kid agreed, and while the pirates grilled steak for dinner, a giant fell on their ship.
George’s scissors
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Where most pirates used their cutlasses for battle, George used his for clipping coupons.
It wasn’t easy, considering how dull the blade was, but the captain wouldn’t lend him the scissors from his desk.
“I remember the last time I lent you my scissors,” said the captain. “It took you over a week to give them back, and they were greasy and filthy.”
“I’m sorry,” said George, but he was more sorry that the fine for the unlicensed barber shop had been greater than what he’d made in tips.
George’s photographs
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
So, he took photography.
At first, the other pirates made fun of him, but after a while, the pirates checked out his Instragram feed.
George piled up a lot of likes and shares, and pirates from all around asked for George to photograph their adventures and exploits.
It was a good gig, but George wanted to give it up and do more pirate stuff again.
“Sorry, George,” said the captain. “You’re too good at this to give it up.”
The captain then had George photograph him at his desk.
George sets high standards
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” said the captain. “Not everyone can be a Blackbeard or a Jack Sparrow.
It’s unfair to compare yourself to legends and icons, mind you.
You’ll always fall short of their achievements.
Instead, set reasonable goals, and then challenge yourself to do better by a little bit each time.
Does that make sense?”
George pondered this advice, thanked the captain, and walked away.
Over the raining and into the water.
“Okay, maybe you should be hard on yourself,” said the captain. “You’re an idiot.”
George is half full
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
When asked if a glass was half-empty or half-full, George picked up the glass and drank it.
“It’s empty now,” said George. “Can I have more water?”
The psychologist running the experiment told George that wasn’t the point, and he refilled the glass halfway again.
George picked it up again and drank it.
“Thank you,” said George. “But wouldn’t it be easier if you just gave me a full glass of water?”
“It might spill,” said the psychologist.
“Oh, okay,” said George. “Can I have my five bucks now?”
Weekly Challenge #883 – PICK TWO Cracked pavement, Double dip, Goth, Educator, Overheating, Metrics
The next weekly challenge topic is: Shenanigans
RICHARD
Meltdown
According to the computer metrics, the core was overheating.
Sirens blared and warning lights strobed amber, steam filled the corridors, escaping from valves never intended to cope with critical pressures.
Frantic telephone calls were made by panic-stricken men, beaded with sweat, while others ran from terminal to terminal, frantically typing commands to abort.
In the lower levels, grim-faced engineers donned protective suits and masks, knowing their fate was sealed.
I hit the pause button, and made my way to the kitchen for another cold beer.
I should have chosen a comedy. Disaster movies are just too damn predictable.
LIZZIE
The guy dressed in black, black eyeliner, black nail polish, black moon tattooed on his cheek.
“Metrics,” he said.
I didn’t understand what metrics had to do with the tattoo.
“Measures of quantitative assessment,” he said.
I had questions.
The fireplace in the gazebo illuminated the cracked pavement.
“Beautiful,” he said.
For a moment, I thought he meant me. I looked frantically in all directions, assessing my quantitative measures of evasion.
He meant the moon.
This wasn’t going well, I had to admit.
Did he even notice I was there? Cracked pavement… Beautiful… More like a cracked brain, in black.
TOM
Blue Collar Blues
My Dad had many jobs in his life. But he had one job most of his life. He was four years old when Social Security was created and through those many different employments accrued the magic 40 quarters to qualify. Never got a penny of it. Government considered it double dipping. The years in the post office wiped it away. What can you do. Follow in my father’s footsteps I had many jobs and one job most of my life. I was an Educator for 20 years. My highest wage never went into Social Security. Screw from a different direction.
As to Reason for My Absence
Jim and I started podcasting in Aug. of 2005. Started with three shows a week. At my peek was doing seven a week did that for three years. I also had a play list of about 15 weekly podcasts. If I was going to add one more to the list it had to be short, way short. What could be short that a story only 100 words long. That is how I found Mr. Simon’s podcast. I had not intention of sending in a story, I came to listen. Well challenge #16 was the first one I tried. I’ve posted just north of 1000 stories.
SERENDIPIDY
Edward was a typical goth. He habitually dressed in black, with lots of chains, wore dark make-up, avoided the sun, and hung around on street corners acting terminally morose.
Even so, I had the hots for him but, as far as he was concerned, I didn’t even exist.
I tried so hard to get his attention, but still I may as well have been invisible, and eventually, I stopped making the effort.
But not before I’d pounded him into a pulp for daring to ignore me.
You can still see the cracked pavement from where I smashed his skull in.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert squeezed Samantha’s shoulders again. “I know you can do it. Bring in a tornado.”
As he said it, a massive tornado appeared over the trees. Picking up pine needles and other debris it dipped down just in front of the cabin, hopped over it, dipped again and spun away toward the mountains.
“You missed it,” Billbert shouted.
“I’m trying. I’m trying,” Sabrina cried as another tornado twisted toward the cabin. Her shoulders were growing warm against Billbert’s palms and as the cabin’s roof pulled away exposing all inside, Sabrina dropped to the ground, her face red and burning hot.
PLANET Z
Workers dug up the sidewalk because of a broken water pipe.
It took a day to fix, and there’s cones and warning tape around the hole in the walkway tonight.
People walking their dogs, not picking up the shit.
I saw a guy looking at his cell phone, his dog pulls him the wrong way, and he goes through the warning tape and into the hole.
An ambulance came… and he’s on the phone, screaming he’s going to sue.
“He’s so full of shit,” I tell a cop, “It’s his fault.”
And the cop takes down my number for later.