Author: R.

LED astray

To save money, we recycled our old Christmas lights and bought ones with LEDs.
They were much cheaper when it came to electricity.
They were also programmable, so we strung them up all over the house and constructed a playlist to animate some reindeer and snowmen.
Well, the guys we hired to string them up. There’s no way we’re getting up on ladders and the roof again, after what happened last year.
Oh, and we added light projectors and music and…
The electric bill for December was through the roof.
Maybe next year, we’ll just stick with a small tree.

Santa goes online

Santa’s a bit of a traditionalist.
It took a long time for him to let kids mail him their wish lists.
Heck, he still has a fax machine in his office.
Sure, he keeps running out of that thermal paper.
He’s finally coming around to the Internet, email, and the web.
Problem is, Santa Claus the username is taken everywhere.
And how does Santa Claus prove that he’s real and who he says he is?
He just asks the owners of those usernames and domains nicely.
And if they say no, they’re on his naughty list until they give in.

Weekly Challenge #765 – PICK ONE

Flop

LIZZIE

Pick one, they said. Yeah. Easier said than done. There were so many wonderful pieces available and he just couldn’t choose one. So, he decided to do what anyone else would. Flip a coin, right? He smiled. OK, that one will do fine. Everyone said he was always distracted and this time he would prove them wrong. This was just perfect. A March! There!
When he was kicked out, the groom’s father was foaming at the mouth and roaring “This is the bloody Funeral March, the Funeral March”. He just whispered “Well, the poor bride didn’t look that happy anyway”.

RICHARD

Gifted

Pik Wun crouched lower in the bush, listening for the tell-tale rustle of undergrowth, muscles straining to keep the bow string taut.

Unaware of its fate the jungle pig emerged from the greenery, snuffling the ground, intent on finding something good to eat.

The arrow was true, and Pik Wun would have meat to sell at market tomorrow.

He was a good hunter, and despite his parent’s constant entreaties to go to school and make his mark upon humanity, what really could he offer the world?

He sold the virus-laden meat next day.

His offering to the world.

SERENDIPIDY

I held out my fist and invited my companions to pick one.

One at a time, hands trembling, they reached out and each drew a straw, an arbitrary act that would seal their fate.

Each having taken their turn, only mine remained, and it was I who drew the short straw.

They bound me and abandoned me – an offering to the ogre – then fled to the hideaway before nightfall.

The ogre was an agreeable fellow, and was happy to exchange my life for directions to the hideout.

I walked free, and the ogre and his family feasted on my companions.

TOM

Cluster Fuck Final Destination

Greg thanked everyone for coming out to celebrate the life of a larger than life woman. “Many of you consider yourselves closer to Ann. I have heard some say they were best friend.” OH NO I thought I know exactly where this is going. Greg paused for effect and stared straight into the eyes of the woman in the front row. She nearly recoiled from the pressures gradient slipping past her into the whole theater. “I am Ann’s fucking best friend.” I pick up one of the pray cards, sure enough there is was in print Greg Lambert: Fuckn Best Friend.

NORVAL JOE

Mr. Withybottom shook his finger at his daughter. “Listen, Linoliamanda. I’m your father and you’ll do as I say. Where is your loyalty, to your family, or this boy?”
Linoliamanda finally spoke. “If I have to pick one of you to defend, it will be Billbert. He’s been kind to me since we first met. He doesn’t treat me like a weirdo like everyone else at school. If he has secrets that these men want to know, they will have to find out some other way.”
Mr. Withybottom’s face turned bright red and he looked as if he would explode.

TURA

Pick one
———
The troll at the bridge barred our way. “Feathers or lead?” it demanded. “Pick one!”

“Don’t answer,” our guide whispered urgently. “Under his geas he can’t attack us unless we guess wrong, and he decides.”

“Scylla or Charybdis?” it boomed.

“How long does this go on?” I asked the guide.

“He’ll run down eventually,” said the guide. “We’ll get past while he’s thinking up new questions.”

I shouted to the troll, “Pick one or pick two?” It stopped to puzzle over this and froze in thought.

It was still standing there, petrified, when we returned from our quest months later.

RICK

The Pick

Patty knew … Kira knew… It wasn’t a secret … Not anymore. Seeing two women is exhausting, especially when it is covert. At least that part was over.

Mad as a couple of hornets, stabbing eyes, and spitting fire …
“Pick one they said!”

Unfortunately … It just wasn’t that simple.

Larry loved them both! Each truly wonderful in both similar and different ways. These two girls covered a wide spectrum without ever stepping out of bounds. The honest truth being that picking one over the other was simply undoable.

If there was any picking to do Larry wouldn’t be the person doing it!

PLANET Z

The Caretaker goes from ecosystem to ecosystem, collecting specimens.
“Pick one” was the rule of The Zoo.
“You can always go back and get more,” said The Director.
The Caretaker’s massive Ark contained species from around the quadrant.
Collector vessels docked with the Ark, and The Caretaker offloaded the living specimens to the Zoo vessels.
Those that hadn’t survived, he preserved and sent to the Museum vessels.
And he added them to the next collection run.
Some species never survived the collection process.
But after thousands of years, The Caretaker didn’t care.
And he just went back out for more.

North Pole Nudist Society

The movies have Santa’s Workshop all wrong.
There aren’t elves sitting at benches, building toys.
Instead, they outsource all of their manufacturing to factories in third-world countries.
Is China third-world country? Doesn’t seem like it, these days.
Thanks to all of Santa’s contracts.
The elves just handle the logistics and accounting.
They also don’t wear silly green and red suits with pointy shoes.
Because, in spite of the climate, the North Pole is a nudist colony.
Okay, so they wear the pointy felt hats.
On their heads.
How do they stay warm?
Well, that’s why there are so many elves.

Jesus has my back

Bailey has a tattoo of Jesus on the cross.
It covers her whole back.
She loves to show it off at parties.
She takes off her jacket, pulls her shirt up.
When she rolls her shoulders, it looks like Jesus is struggling with the nails in his hands.
She tilts back her head, and Jesus slumps, dead.
Pulls her shirt back down, puts her jacket back on.
Thing is, she’s an agnostic.
The tattoo was from an ex-boyfriend who drugged her.
She dumped the guy, but kept the ink.
“Jesus has my back” she says.
And she laughs and laughs.

Totally Lying

Sure, people talk about the Christmas Truce in World War One, but how many talk about the Easter Escalation of the Crimean War?
Of course people don’t. Because I just made it up.
I make up a lot of things.
As long as they sound good, you’ll believe them without questioning them.
But a few people will bother to Google the event, maybe look it up in WikiPedia.
And they discover that I’m talking out of my ass and making things up.
At that point, you won’t believe a thing.
And I can pretty much write anything I want to.

Elvish Bonfire of the Vanities

Year after year, Santa’s Workshop produced its wooden toys and dolls and the traditional crap nobody wants anymore.
The fat old man, slumped in his throne, smiling and nodding.
Signing papers the elves brought to him.
More wood, more paint.
“Very good, very good.”
The Workshop. Raw materials came in one end, and toys went out the other.
But instead of loading them on to Santa’s sleigh, the elves put it all in a pile
And when the pile was high enough, they poured kerosene on it and lit a match.
They’d sing a few carols and return to work.

Milk and Cookies and More

It’s tradition to leave out a plate of cookies and a glass of milk for Santa.
Where this tradition began, I’m not sure, but leave it to consumerism and capitalism to exploit the shit out of it.
Cookie companies buy a lot of advertisement space to make people think that they’re Santa’s favorite cookie.
From the size of Santa, they’re probably all right.
That big fat pig will eat just about anything.
Except for a salad, maybe.
One vegan company claims that Santa prefers soy milk to regular milk. Their soy milk, obviously.
But not even Santa drinks that crap.

Rack of the Magi

Olga Rudnik asked Santa for only one thing.
Well, technically, two: Mindy Swenson’s tits.
Olga had been good all year, every year.
And Molly was, to be blunt, a stuck-up bitch, forever on the naughty list.
Santa left two lumps of coal for Mindy that year.
On her flattened chest.
Then he flew to Olga’s house, went down her chimney, and replaced her tits with Mindy’s.
He thought about giving Olga’s to Mindy…but he was running late and had to many more stops to go.
The next morning, Olga woke up, looked down, and screamed with joy.
Mindy just screamed.

Weekly Challenge #764 – STILL

Tinny the traitor

LIZZIE

He looked outside. Nothing… He squinted and felt trapped. The river was still there, flowing freely. But where were they? No boats, no whales, no dragons. They weren’t coming after all, were they? He squinted again and thought he saw a… No, nothing. The people here mustn’t know he was expecting them. Then the horn sounded. Alarm, alarm. He rushed back to the window, but… “Ronnie, what’s going on?” He shook his head. “Come on. It’s time. Let’s get you bathed.” He knew one day they’d come and rescue him. “And don’t forget to take your pills,” said the nurse.

RICHARD

Sparkling or Still?

“Sparkling or still?” The waiter asked, his face cocked expectantly to one side.

“Tap!” I responded bluntly, and his upper lip curled into a semi-snarl.

Yes, I’m one of those annoying people who balk at the thought of paying for ridiculously overpriced bottled water in posh restaurants.

It’s bad enough being charged for the dry and tasteless bread rolls that they slip onto your table without invitation, but it just adds insult to injury when you’re expected to pay for water too.

“One tap water”, he snarled.

“Oh, with ice, please – I assume that’s made from tap water too?”

SERENDIPIDY

At first, there is the terror – the screaming and crying; the frenzied fighting. The heart pounds, arms and legs flail, the body twists and turns maniacally as the pain courses through.

Time passes; your struggles begin to cease, breathing becomes heavy and laboured. Then comes sobbing, the weeping, the whimpering.

Soon, exhausted, broken and beaten, both physically and emotionally, you cross the boundary between hope and despair. The will to live that has driven you so far, now fails and fades.

Succumbing to the inevitable: There is nothing, save the occasional involuntary twitch.

Until, at last, all is finally still.

TOM

Cluster Fuck III

As music dies down, all that is left is the rustle of paper and fabric. Then just a still. On the stage is a lone mic, a singular silver thread in a mass of mat black flats and curtains. Greg slowly walks across the stage dozens upon dozens of eye tracking him. In the row ahead and to the left sits the woman who was the departed woman’s best friend. I know because she has said as much the whole week. Greg tracks the room and takes hold of the mic stand like a man born to the touch.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert held his breath when the federal agents approached Linoliamanda. “Okay, young lady. Tell us what you know about this boy’s super powers.”
Linoliamanda stood there, as still and silent as a winter night after snow fall.
Mr. Withybottom put his hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Linny. Tell them what you told me.”
She glared at her father, fire burning in her eyes. She pressed her lips still tighter together and shook her head.
The federal agent folded his arms. “Your dad knows something and we don’t have all night. Do we need to take you downtown for interrogation?”

RICK

Still

Meditation is the art of doing nothing constructively. Our conscious mind steers our lives, for the most part, from infancy to old age. There is an incredible benefit to be had in training oneself to release control of our thoughts by the conscious mind, and allow the subconscious to take the wheel.

Once the mind is truly motionless you may be surprised, or enlightened, by that which fills the void … or skitters along a distant but visible horizon.

Observe and contemplate.

Observe is a powerful verb!
It can be all encompassing!
Observation done properly, well contemplated, can be / should be life-changing!

PLANET Z

It’s been twenty-six years since you died. Twenty-seven?
Our baby, the one you were going to tell me about, would be about that old.
A boy? A girl?
I didn’t ask.
But they’d be on their own by now.
Graduated college, maybe finishing medical school.
Or some time in the military, maybe make a career of it.
Like you did.
Would they earn honors and medals, raise kids of their own, or earn an early grave?
Like you did.
It’s easy to live in the past and the never-was.
And be just as dead in the now as you are.