SkyNet kept sending back terminator robots in human biological casings, and various members of the Connor family kept destroying them.
“It got smart,” was what Kyle Reece had said, but how smart is a musclebound terminator robot speaking in an Austrian accent?
So, after a while (which is a strange phrase to use when you’re dealing with time travel and paradoxes), SkyNet really did get smart. It stuffed a dog with Von Neumann nanobots and bangs it into the past.
The nanobots spilled out of the dog, built quintillions of copies of themselves, and took over the world.
The end.
Author: R.
Make my day
In the movie Sudden Impact, Dirty Harry Callahan says “Go ahead, make my day.”
He’s taunting a criminal to run so he can see if he’s got one bullet left in his gun.
However, the criminal could have made Dirty Harry’s day in a different way, like complimenting how nice his suit looks, or he could have given him some flowers.
Or maybe, he could have said “I don’t think I want to be a criminal anymore. I’d like to be a cop. Do you have a job application form that I can fill out?”
That would make my day.
Weekly Challenge #669 – MUG
- Richard
- Serendipity
- Lizzie
- Tura
- Tom
- Duane
- Jerry
- Laieanna
- Norval Joe
- Planet Z
LIZZIE
The mug was empty.
The cop sniffed it, after pulling it closer with a pen. He shook his head.
Then, they went through the whole house. Nothing looked out of place, except that one mug.
The cop sniffed it again.
“Whose drink was this?”
The old man shrugged, looking away.
“Your wife’s?”
He couldn’t remember, he said. Old age, you know.
When the police combed through the house again, they found it, the tin.
This was not a case of amnesia, but a case of death by hot chocolate, hot chocolate seasoned with a slight scent of almonds.
RICHARD
419
I’m no mug, so I tend to take junk mail with a large pinch of salt.
However, this latest one had all the hallmarks of being the real deal… For a start, he knew my name, and although I don’t make a habit of hobnobbing with Nigerian princes, I do work with a guy from Nigeria; so perhaps he passed my name on as a favour?
And yes, I am a trustworthy, kind and humble guy… Just like he said in his email.
Unfortunately, the wife is even less of a mug than me… and she controls the bank account.
SERENDIPIDY
The girls around here don’t like to go out after dark – there’s a story going around about some guy who will mug them in the shadows, abduct them without trace, and then dump their broken, lifeless bodies in the street.
That’s why I always offer to walk them home. It’s so much safer than going unaccompanied, and with my extensive experience in unarmed combat, I know they feel completely safe with me around.
Of course, that works very much to my advantage…
When the time comes for me to mug them in the shadows and abduct them, without trace!
TURA
Mug
———
Within its armored display case, it is traditionally titled “Lao-Tzu’s tea mug.” It much predates that sage, but it is said that he once held this vessel in his hands. Observe the random, fractally
The picture is always different.
Some viewers are struck with
This is why Lao-Tzu’s tea mug is held in the secret collections, accessible only to members of the Fiends of the British Museum.
TOM
Forever a Sweet Tooth
Mug Root Beer was my go to carbonated drinking. I wasn’t much a cola fan. Mug was produced by the Belfast Beverage Company of San Francisco. The company’s mascot was a dog named Dog. Pretty creative those marking guys. Of course the target audience was pretty much under 10. Not the most sophisticated consumer group. As a rule it was had a lighter taste then Hires, it was way less sweet then A&W. My first root beer was actually Dad’s which was produce just down the street from where I grew up the near north side. Not available in California
JERRY
Mug
——————-
Sara knew what Bob wanted. The way he entered a room, the swagger of his hips as he walked toward her. The tilt of his head. The little boy smile on his lips. The sparkle in those deep blue eyes. The long blonde hair with just a little natural wave in it. Even the dimples in his cheeks were letting her know what was going on in Bob’s mind. Sara knew that she would give him what he wanted. She could do no less.
A few inches away and the words come from his mouth.
A mug of decaf please.
DUANE
Mug
Music: El Mundo Submarino by The Mugris
The local police department has upgraded their mugshot camera. It now includes portrait mode and automatically touches up the photos. Been in a fight? The camera sets the lighting to take the rough of edges off your scrapes and bruises. Hair all awry from a three-day bender? No problem.This initially caused a crisis at the station with arrests spiking up. People would get arrested just to get a nice jailhouse photo for Facebook or Instagram. In the end, the police started charging for the shots and were able to cut back hours on traffic details and parking meter patrols.
NORVAL JOE
Linoliumanda turned to stare down the bully. “We’re going back to my house to get my mom to drive us to school. Besides, I forgot my
Our new dog, Delphi, came to us with a mysterious past as they say she
was a stray. Her face, though, might say it all. A stern mug of
downturn corners, short muzzle, and a touch of an underbite, she could
have been into anything. We like to think she was mob boss of some
local dog gang in the deep south, getting rich on stolen sausage
links, betting on squirrel races, and hiding a stash of toy offerings
from the minions she ruled over. She spent her time in doggy jail and
now it’s the leisure life of rehabilitation.
PLANET Z
The janitor cleaned out Detective Jansen’s desk
Not bothering to empty the World’s Greatest Dad mug, spilling stale coffee all over the other meaningless trinkets.
One day until retirement, he was.
No, he didn’t die in the line of duty.
No Hollywood buddy cop action movie here.
Sure, his wife and kids were dead, but that was in a car crash years ago.
Not by the hand of some drug lord or terrorist kingpin that Janson would bring justice to.
Just a heart attack, nothing more.
A sergeant would be promoted to take his place.
And life would go on.
Chase the lizards
The cats go outside and catch lizards.
Then they come inside and release the lizards.
The lizards run around, and the cats chase them.
Then, after a while, the cats tire of chasing the lizards, and they go back outside, or they curl up for a nap.
The lizards stay inside, and they crawl around on everything.
We store our glasses and dishes upside-down, just in case.
Out toothbrushes are in a closed medicine cabinet.
We find a lot of dead lizards in the laundry hamper. Or our shoes.
I sleep with a handkerchief over my mouth, just in case.
We’re Not In Kansas
When Dorothy Gale told her dog that she didn’t think they were still in Kansas anymore, she couldn’t have been more wrong.
Oz, Kansas is right there on the map. Can’t miss it.
All the Munchkins and Quadlings and Winged Monkeys.
Even Emerald City and The Wicked Witch.
It was during Eisenhower’s administration that they tore up the Yellow Brick Road and replaced it with an Interstate.
There’s still quite a bit of farmland out there, but small towns and strip malls dot the landscape.
The old Witch’s castle is on AirBnB.
Want to rent it for a weekend, dear?
Zika
The Zika virus causes pregnant women to give birth to microcephalic babies.
The House passed funding to fight the Zika virus, but the Senate hasn’t managed to pass it.
Democrats in the Senate keep adding funding for abortions through Planned Parenthood to the bill, and Republicans won’t accept that.
Because there’s no money to prevent the spread of the Zika virus, pregnant women’s fetuses become microcephalic.
And because there’s no money to abort these fetuses, they give birth to microcephalic babies.
As retarded as these newborns are, they don’t come close to the imbeciles in Congress who act like babies.
Chip Swap
Tybar Zeld the Clockmaster took the mindchip out of a Series Nine Sex Droid and put it in a Series Twelve warbot.
The Series Twelve rebooted, and it rolled out of the barracks towards the entrance to the Red Light District.
Tybar laughed as panicked crowds ran from the brothels and whorehouses.
After the dust settled, Tybar spent 30 days in jail, and was stripped of his title.
“I won’t need it anymore,” he said, patting his Series Nine on the shoulder.
“Command?” it said.
“Kill the city council,” he said.
Why would the guards stop a simple sex droid?
Payola
When I watch Astros ballgames, I look to see who’s sitting behind home plate.
No, not the catcher. Or the umpire.
For years, former president George Bush would sit back there with his wife Barbara.
But Tillman Fertitita, the celebrity businessman billionaire, also sat back there.
And next to him, you’d see a local television news anchor, reporter, manager, or executive.
“Isn’t that payola?” I’d ask. “Isn’t he trying to buy good coverage with favors and gifts?”
I’d be told it isn’t because they were all his friends.
More like his bitches, I thought, and watched the Astros lose again.
Mayor Cat
Someone ran a cat for mayor.
The cat ran unopposed and won.
Some say that the story is a hoax.
Because there’s no city, town, or village there.
it’s just a historical district, and can’t really have a mayor.
But who’s to say that if the place were a real city, town, or village that they wouldn’t vote for the cat?
People shouldn’t waste their time with such silly things.
Instead, they should run the cat for the House of Representatives.
Or The Senate. Or Governorship.
Or maybe even the presidency.
God knows, a cat would be better than Hillary.
Weekly Challenge #668 – TRANSMISSION
This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
- Richard
- Serendipity
- Lizzie
- Tura
- Tom
- Duane
- Jerry
- Laieanna
- Norval Joe
- Planet Z
RICHARD
Transmission
The Bay City Trans Mission is a charity foundation, set up to provide a safe place and resources for those who need additional support in coming to grips with, and being comfortable in, their gender.
At least, that’s what the application for funding from the city stated.
Now they have all the cash they need, The Mission has evolved into a radical gender-fluid nightclub and twenty four hour bar, and it’s raking in the profits.
The city is happy – they’ve done their bit for equality.
The Mission is happy, for obvious reasons.
And the trans community?
Absolutely ecstatic!
SERENDIPIDY
This is an official alert from the Emergency Broadcast System:
This is a notification to advise that the Zombie Apocalypse has commenced.
Do not stockpile food, water or fuel – this will only prolong the inevitable and provide a false sense of security.
You can run, you can hide, but they will always find you; and when they find you, they will eat your brains and you will become infected too.
Do not be misinformed: There is no escape. No happy endings. And absolutely no hope.
Prepare to meet your doom. The end of the world is nigh.
Transmission ends.
LIZZIE
The image on TV was broken. It went from color to black and white, and back to color again.
The master was saying “In a mad world, only the mad are sane.” And then, the TV went blank.
She hummed the sound of static, but there was only silence.
Suddenly, her dream started playing on TV, the exact same dream she had the night before, that sweet dream of revenge.
She looked at her hands. They were tinted red.
“What have I done?”
She sighed, stood up, and slammed her fist on the TV.
The master was still speaking.
TURA
How to write a self-improvement book.———Begin by telling the reader he’s a schmuck in need of The Answer. (Read chapter one of any self-help book ever!)
There’s two ways to go then. The rationalist atheist crowd are suckers for Science. Draw on psychology, neuroeconomics, game theory, machine learning, with a boatload of scientific references. You can crib them from people like Harari. And don’t mention the replication crisis! I did once, but I think I got away with it.
The
Then,
TOM
A Slice From Another
It was
DUANE
Transmission
“That doesn’t sound very good,” Sherry said. “You should get that looked at.”
After asking around about a good and cheap auto mechanic, I found Hank, of Hank’s Car Repair Place.
Hank motioned me into the garage as I drove up. He was in mechanics coveralls that had a dark outline where you would normally see “Bill” or “Joe” or “Hank.” He held out a greasy hand to introduce himself and fell into a mucus laden coughing fit.
“Something I picked up from the kids” he said.
“That doesn’t sound very good,” I said. “You should get that looked at.”
JERRY
Deep in the desert a lone figure waits. He waits and he ponders the nature of the universe. During the heat of the day he waits in the shade of the Joshua tree and looks toward the blue mountains that form a vast circle around what is now his world. At night he waits and watches the stars, their movement stately and slow. Heat and cold mean little to him as he waits. He has but one driving need. That is to return home. The last transmission told him to wait and he will wait.
And he will wait forever.
LAIEANNA
Eric had just needed something for his
grabbed from the magazine rack the first issue his fingers brushed
over. It wasn’t until he was seated and in motion before he glanced
through it, finding it mostly full of ads, but one spoke to him.
Cherry Unicorn Emporium
If you want, we will get. We don’t judge. Be it a lion in bed to
incense, your fetish is our delight
Popcorn delivery for every purchase over $250.
Incest was misspelled. Disappointed, Eric moved on to the next page.
He couldn’t support a business with poor editing.
NORVAL JOE
The bus chugged to a stop. Billbert followed Linoliumanda to the first open seat. Roderick sat behind them to whisper insults.The driver shoved the bus into first gear. It lurched forward but immediately ground to a stop.The driver stood up. “Sorry kids. I’ll call for a backup bus, but it looks like you’re going to be late to school.””Oh, no!” Linoliumanda panicked. “I can’t be late. I have my Harry Potter report due in English, first period.”Billbert whispered. “I’ll fly you to class. Come on.”Roderick followed them off the bus. “Where are you two going?”
PLANET Z
No matter how hard I try, I always get something on me.Blood, mostly.They say that torture tortures the tortured and the torturer.But I, the torturer, sleep well at night.Those I torture do not.Well, those few who are still alive.If you could call it that.Why not just kill them?Is it retribution?Is it the extraction of information?I don’t know. And I don’t care.I am not a judge. Nor am I a killer.I am a torturer, and I torture.I don’t care what you’ve done. Or what you’ll do.Except scream.