I remember when candy canes were made by hand.
Every step… mixing, heating, rolling, stretching, and so on.
All done by people.
As each machine took its place in the line, there would be people putting things in it or taking things out of it.
But there were still people involved.
Eventually, the machines all connected to other machines, a fully integrated process, and no room was left for people.
They clean themselves now, they manage themselves, and they repair themselves too.
The candy canes taste horrible, but they look nice.
We just put them on the tree these days.
Author: R.
Believe in
It’s a strange situation.
Santa doesn’t believe in the Easter Bunny.
The Easter Bunny doesn’t believe in The Great Pumpkin.
The Great Pumpkin doesn’t believe in The Loch Ness Monster.
The Boogeyman. Bigfoot. The Monster Under the Bed.
And so on. All the way down to Jesus.
Nobody believes in him anymore.
Not even himself.
So, they made a union. The Mythical Creatures and Beings Union.
And they all committed to believe in each other.
They had regular meetings, kept statistics, and offered mentoring.
After a while, everybody believed in everything.
The world became a very scary and weird place.
Red dye
We built a line of snowmen along the driveway, all with twig arms out in salute.
My dad would drive past them and salute back.
Then, we’d knock over the snowmen and spray red food dye on them.
When dad came back, he was horrified at the carnage.
But the real horror wasn’t until Spring.
Because the red food dye was toxic to grass.
We ended up spending the summer reseeding, resodding, and fertilizing the bald patches in the lawn.
And when the winter came again, we weren’t allowed to make snowmen again.
Or go anywhere near the kitchen cabinet.
Weekly Challenge #763 – PICK TWO: reward, puppet, global, gear, shop, pit stop
- Lizzie
- Richard
- Serendipidy
- Tom
- Tura
- Norval Joe
- Rick
- Planet Z
LIZZIE
She hated being a puppet in his hands. What gave her some peace was walking down the pathway with the old trees. One day, she noticed something shiny to the right. A marble perhaps? The next day, she brought some beads and left them there. And that’s when the gifts appeared on the pathway. First a bit of glass. Then, a button, an old key. It made her smile. It gave her strength. And she said “no more”. She walked away from him, for good. Today, she still walks that pathway, exchanging gifts with her new friend, a very generous crow.
RICHARD
Scum
“Got any gear?”
I looked at the kid with distaste. He was every inch the stereotypical druggie: Shambling and sniffing, his vacant eyes darting around in paranoid fear from his sallow, pock-marked face.
I nodded. “For the right price.”
He fumbled a handful of dirty bills from somewhere deep within his sweatpants – now you know why I always wear gloves – and I slipped him the small polythene packet.
I despise scum like him.
And I imagine that you despise scum, like me.
But, I’m just a puppet. It’s the people pulling my strings you should despise most.
I do.
SERENDIPITY
Have you ever wondered why so many serial killers remove their victims’ body parts to take as souvenirs?
It’s our reward for a job well done.
After all, no-one else is going to congratulate us on our work, so we have to take things into our own hands.
But, what to do with all those body parts, once we’ve got them? We can’t exactly put them on display or show them off to our friends!
So, I turn them into children’s toys: Lovingly crafted marionettes and puppets from stolen parts and pieces.
Perhaps your kids would like one for Christmas?
TOM
Cluster Fuck II
The woman who had set this in motion gave me that second grade teach stare. “Inappropriate language Master Marquette.” I always vexes me when someone with multiple children takes umbrage with the term. How the fuck did you end up with them, but say cluster fuck, well that just not polite intercourse. So I looked at her and gave her a “WE BE ADULTS HERE LOOK.” I wanted to say “I an’t no reward puppet, you call me up to dance, you better have a band a hand.” But she had dash back inside the hall as the music played.
TURA
Gear; Pit stop
———
At car races nowadays, the cars drive themselves, and the pit stops are totally automated. The machines can swap out a busted gearbox in seconds. No-one programs anything, the robots learn by competing against each other.
Rumour is that there’s no longer any human input, from the racetracks, to the factories, to the mines and oil wells. New tracks get built without anyone asking for them. There are twice as many as two years ago, and they’re bigger.
It’s still the most popular spectator sport, but soon the world might be just one huge racetrack, with no-one left to watch.
———
NORVAL JOE
One of the federal agents shouted at Mrs. Blanketmaker. “There’s a global conspiracy to turn all of you heroes into villains. You’re walking into their trap. Before you know it you’ll be puppets of their evil organization.”
Mr. Withybottom blustered at the agent, “Are you telling me that skinny little kid over there is, in fact, a superhero?”
The agent turned his back on Billbert’s mother. “We suspect he is. We will reward anyone with firsthand knowledge of him or anyone else using unusual powers.”
Mr. Withybottom pushed Linoliamanda forward with an evil smile. “Linny. Tell them what you know.”
RICK
General Store
Jerry had an old farmhouse, wrap around porch, big … BIG front room. And Jerry is always been something of a hoarder … food, water, cleaners, paper goods … He was set for the next 20 years.
Had a handpainted sign that read …
“General Store”
… If the sign was out front he was open for business … If not … then not.
Without a store around within 15 mi Jerry did well with cigarettes, soda, beer, and such, not a living … but he did okay.
He did make a killing on the corn liquor and homegrown marijuana!
Jerry what’s the richest guy in the county!
PLANET Z
It’s not like stealing the Mona Lisa, but long ago news broke that someone had stolen Kermit the Frog from Jim Henson’s office.
Sure, he had dozens of the things back in the day, but there was something special about this particular puppet.
And he kept it in his office, and after he died, they found it there, sitting in his chair.
People say it’s cursed. Or haunted.
The janitor at Henson Productions doesn’t even touch it.
Sometimes, when a tour goes through, people claim it’s staring at them.
But that’s just crazy. It only hunts and kills people, okay?
Doctor Odd’s Advent Calendar
Doctor Odd loved the holidays.
Every year, he’d craft some bizarre advent calendar, slowly revealing some nefarious plot to take over the world.
Or destroy it. Either way, he wasn’t picky.
This year’s effort would be his masterpiece.
Each day, he revealed a cure to some disease or affliction.
Cancer. AIDS. The common cold.
By the 24th day, he’d cured everything.
The world sang his praises on Christmas Day.
Then, Odd revealed his Nightmare Plague.
Why did he go through the trouble of creating all those cures?
He wanted a clean slate upon which to test his own newly-crafted disease.
Eartha’s Santa Baby
So, Eartha Kitt asked Santa for a bunch of things.
She wanted a sable coat, a light blue convertible car, a yacht, a platinum mine, a duplex, and checks.
I know she was a champion for civil rights and social causes, but seriously: what a greedy bitch.
In the song, she claims that she passed on a lot of fun and kissing guys, but didn’t the CIA report on her say she was a sadistic nymphomaniac?
Which is it? What’s the truth?
Okay, so maybe she didn’t kiss any of the guys, but if the catsuit and whip fits, right?
Christmas jerky
It’s a family tradition that we hang their stockings from the mantel on Christmas.
That way, Santa Claus can leave presents for us in the stockings.
Grandma hung one of her compression socks from the mantel.
Santa brought her some Ohama Steaks.
She slept late, we had lit a fire in the fireplace, and the compressed steak ended up as beef jerky.
Which Grandma ended up giving to us, since jerky isn’t all that good on her dentures.
“Gee, thanks, Grandma,” we said, staring at the leg-sweat seasoned meat sticks. “Merry Christmas.”
We gave the disgusting things to the dog.
Increased drag Christmas
For centuries, eight reindeer pulled Santa’s sleigh.
Santa expanded the roster to nine when air pollution necessitated Rudolph’s bright nose.
Despite ever-increasing payloads and deliveries, Santa and his crew did their job.
Until Clover the horse wanted to join.
Sure, he was a horse. He couldn’t fly.
But he identified as a pegasus.
“See my cardboard wings?”
“You’re kidding, right?” said Santa.
Clover wasn’t. And he sued for discrimination.
The case went to the Supreme Court.
Santa lost.
He never delivered presents to judges or lawyers ever again.
“Not enough time,” he’d say. “The increased drag is slowing everything down.”
Woke Christmas Morning
People are protesting Charlie Brown Christmas because Franklin the black kid is forced to sit in a lawn chair on the other side of the table.
They’re also protesting Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer as bigoted.
And the song “Baby It’s Cold Outside” has run afoul of the Me Too Movement, who claim the lyrics are tantamount to date rape.
Not to mention that some radical Muslims get offended by people wishing them Merry Christmas at all.
I asked Santa for a baseball bat.
Aluminum? Wood? Carbon-fiber? As long as it’s not Whiffle.
I just want to beat myself senseless sometimes.
The Taps
It all started with a pub that offered beer on tap.
Just one beer available on tap. Nothing fancy.
Then, the pub next door offered two different beers on tap.
So, of course, the first pub needed to offer three.
And the pub next door offered four.
Five… six… seven… ten… fifteen… twenty…
Pretty soon, both of the pubs had a massive wall of taps.
The bartenders now spend more time changing kegs and tap handles and checking lines than actually serving beer.
It’s crazy behind that wall.
I like to go in and ask to see the wine list.