Out at Coney Island, everyone talks about Nathan’s Famous hot dog stand.
But nobody’s talking about Walter’s Obscure fried squid.
That’s the fried squid stand behind the Nathan’s Famous hot dog stand.
People went crazy for the hot dogs. Only crazy people went for the squid.
“Pick your own squid!” said the sign out front, right next to a huge fish tank full of squid.
Squid mermaid performers swam in the tank, trying not to get tangled in the squid.
Every July Fourth, in the shadow of the Nathan’s contest, they would hold a squid-eating contest.
Nobody ate a thing.
Author: R.
The warning on the pack
Coughing, hacking, wheezing…
Using. Always using.
She smoked her friends down to the filter.
When there was nothing left to inhale, she spat them out and ground them under her heel.
There was always another waiting in the pack, and so many others in the mob, lining up to offer a light from their torches.
Kindly mind your pitchforks.
The more she smoked, the thicker the cloud.
Pretty soon, you could hardly see her at all.
When the pack was empty, the smoke cleared, there was nothing left of her.
They should put warnings on the packs:
“Don’t climb in.”
Potatoes
Ever watch those “How Stuff Is Made” videos? The french fry one is fascinating. They run potatoes through a sorter that shakes them past increasingly-larger holes in order to size and sort them.
Life is a sorting table, with holes in which to sort out how much stupidity, bullshit, and hypocrisy each of us potatoes contains.
Left? Right? Claiming to be Moderate?
We’re all just a bunch of potatoes, really
No matter what you do, you’re gonna get cut up, blanched, flash-frozen, shipped, fried, and salted so some minimum-wage pimply-faced teenager can ask someone if they want you with that.
Weekly Challenge #636 – “Never Say…”
Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.
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.
We’ve got stories by:
CHARLIE
Never say you have the answer. You don’t know enough about the topic. You have no life experience, nor do you have skills to research the topic. You are a bloated gas bag, and you don’t have the sense to keep your mouth shut. Stop prothletising. Stop being a pedant and a poophead.
No one cares what you say, as you have already demonstrated many, many times that you are intellectually average, and you do not have the respect that you think you have.
Can you find a place in your heart to raise my grade to an A, please?
#2
Never say you will be happy to donate to the church. They will hound you for your lifetime. If you move, they will find the church nearest you, and dispatch cadres of missionaries, door-knockers, pamphleteers and personal visits by elders or the pastor hisself (sic).
I moved from California to avoid a congregation. They sent people to my workplace, the gym, the massage parlor, and my grocery store. They would catch me buying produce and engage me in ways that were terrifying.
One day, I was shocked to have the Deacon’s wife lay hands on my backside at the spa.
JUSTIN
Goonies never say die.
And I can never say accurately that I can visit the Goonies house next time I go to Astoria.
Last time I went there were signs, neighbors telling visitors where not to park, and at the house itself some info, and some tape to not cross, because people live their.
And a donation box, because, why not?
But now public access has been revoked due to people crossing the line, going on porch, peering in windows, not respecting the owners.
Hey you guys, you ruined it for everyone! Great job. No Big Willie’s treasure for you!
RICHARD
Never say…
There are some things you should never say to a woman, even if you’re only being helpful:
‘Your bum looks big in that’; ‘That really isn’t your colour’; ‘Your hair is a mess’ – it really is asking for trouble, maybe even a slap across the face.
However, if you hold your tongue and fail to mention she’s not looking her best, you’ll be in the doghouse for keeping silent.
Either way, you’re not going to win.
This is something I’ve learned the hard way.
Something else I’ve learned you should never say to a woman…
‘Will you marry me?’
LIZZIE
The countdown started. 10, 9, 8… She closed her eyes and tried to come up with ways to stop it. 7, 6, 5… The place was deserted. She didn’t know what to do. 4, 3, 2… It was all over. ONE. Perhaps not. It’s not over till the fat lady sings, they say. ZERO. And nothing happened. She opened her eyes and remained sitting. What an anti-climatic moment… The director of the play clapped. She… she just stared at the small candle on the floor. It flickered. Never say I just love this theater company, can I join you guys?
TOM
Saints do not move
You never say I love you. Yes, I do all the time. No you don’t, not the words. But I show you in every way possible isn’t that enough? Why can’t you just say the words? It’s because every person who has ever said it to me has lied when they said it. My mother yes, my father most certainly. All the fancies of my youth. That is them, it is not me. He turned and mouthed the words, in a breathless silence. So she to, to him in return. Never spoken were they again, yet daily in breathless silence
SERENDIPITY
Never say, “let’s go and check out the old haunted house” – it’s simply asking for trouble.
Never go to investigate the strange sound in the middle of the night.
Never leave the safety of the house to peer into the darkness, whilst calling “is somebody out there?”
And, when the lights go out, never back away, with the unknown behind you.
And please, don’t ever go down into the cellar.
Most of all, never, ever check a body to see if it really is dead…
Oh, alright then, maybe just this once.
Just come a little closer…
Closer…
Closer…
JEFFREY
Two Anniversaries
by Jeffrey Fischer
They say that one of the cardinal mistakes a husband can make is to buy a home appliance for his wife for a birthday or anniversary. Good advice, really, right behind not answering the question “Do these pants make my butt look big?”
On the other hand, what can a guy do some times? The washing machine that came with the house broke down in late June one year. We bought a new one on what turned out to be our wedding anniversary. When *that* machine failed, years later, once again it happened the day before our anniversary. “Ha ha,” I said, “Now we have *two* anniversaries to celebrate.” Ignoring the glare from my wife, I called the appliance store to order the machine’s replacement. “This one is a deluxe model. Never say I don’t get you nice presents.”
Fortunately, the house has a spare bedroom, as I’m too long for the couch.
JON
And You Shall Never Say…
By
Jon DeCles
Never say I did not love you. Never say that.
Never say I did not give you all that you asked, no matter how much or how too much it might be. Never even consider saying that.
Never say we did not grow close, as close as a vine climbing is to a wall, and never even imagine saying that you did not cling to me as such a vine does, sending in tendrils to suck my mortar to dust.
Never say my stones do not protect you, below, on all four sides, above, from light and dark and air.
NORVAL JOE
The next morning Roderick surveyed the students as he climbed the steps into the bus and made a beeline for the empty seat next to Billbert.
“If you’re smart, you’ll never say anything about what happened yesterday,” the bully said as he sat and jammed an elbow into Billbert’s ribs.
“I wouldn’t think of it.” Billbert tried to move away from the other boy.
Roderick squinted at him. “How come that bag worked for you but it didn’t for me?”
“I have my theories, and I’d share them with you, but I just promised to never speak about it again.”
PLANET Z
When I was little, I was told never to say fuck.
Or shit. Or damn.
So, I said those words a lot. Especially at dinnertime.
“What the fuck is this damn shit?” I’d say, holding up my plate.
“Go to your room!” my mother would shout.
I spent a lot of nights without dinner.
I learned to eat big breakfasts and lunches.
And eat as much of my dinner as I could stand before mouthing off.
When I grew up, I still used swear words.
But I also hired a cook, so I wouldn’t need to use them as much.
Row row row
Fred was anything but gentle with how he tried to row his boat up the stream.
He grunted and sweated as he turned the oars, and they splashed madly in the water.
But the boat wasn’t getting anywhere.
“You should be more gentle with that crazy rowing,” said Gertie.
“I wouldn’t have to heave so hard if you weren’t such a big fat pig,” growled Fred.
That’s when Fred noticed that the boat was anchored.
“There wasn’t room for me and my bags with it sitting there,” Gertie whined.
Fred tossed her overboard, pulled up the anchor, and rowed away.
The Lines
The First Line consists of the hearse and the mourners.
The Second Line consists of revelers celebrating the life of the deceased.
The Third Line consists of drunk tourists confused by the commotion, looking for free beads or girls to show their tits.
The Fourth Line consists of creditors looking to collect whatever they can before the party spends whatever’s left in the deceased’s bank account. They also pick up any lost wallets or purses from those drunkasses in the Third Line.
The Fifth Line consists of people who woke up too late to make it in the First Line.
Sainted
It’s been years since I was in a church, I told the old rector.
He handed me an envelope. “We have the skin from the cheek of St. Anthony,” he said.
Inside was an offering card, a photo of some guy in robes, and other slips of paper.
“Which St. Anthony?” I asked. “And which cheek? Left or right? And was it his buttcheek or from his face?”
“The information’s in the envelope,” he said. “The Vatican investigated and confirmed it.”
Unlike all the cases of child abuse, I thought.
I left the bomb under a pew, smiled, and left.
There is nothing new
Ecclesiastes tells us that there is nothing new under the sun.
Which makes sense, if you consider that it was written by someone who lives in the desert.
Have you ever tried to come up with a new idea when out in the hot desert sun?
The sun is so draining. The only thing you want is to get out of the sun.
Then, at night, so exhausted, you’d just sleep.
Okay, maybe that’s what inspired tents: to shade yourself from the sun.
Or umbrellas so you can carry shade around with you.
So you can think up something new.
Style Guide
To keep things consistent and readable, our writing group follows a style guide.
Which one?
The one over there on my shelf.
Everybody’s got a copy, and they keep it in their shelf.
Or in their desk drawer.
What? It’s not there?
Golly, I can’t remember the last time I looked at it.
I think we’ve got it stored on the server.
Or perhaps it’s on my Kindle?
Nope. Not there.
Oh. Wait. I know where it is.
It’s in this cardboard box. That I’m filling with my stuff.
I got fired today. For not following the style guide.
The sounds of higher learning
Sitting in a classroom in University of Houston Downtown, learning about Plain English at an academic forum.
The train runs by the campus, and you can hear and feel the rumble, and the whistles and bells as it approaches the stop.
The air conditioning whispers quietly, and the shuffling of papers, and sliding of chairs and coughing, and a cell phone rattles on a table.
Another train rumbles by, and students talk to each other as they walk in the hall outside the conference room.
Oh, and the presenter. He’s speaking. Saying something.
I should pay attention to him.