I’ve found from experience that praying to solve a problem doesn’t solve anything.
In fact, it makes things worse.
Not just because praying wastes time that you could otherwise use to come up with a solution.
When was the last time you solved a math problem with prayer?
Pick up a fucking calculator, you dipshit.
Not only does prayer not solve the problem, but it annoys God.
He’s the Almighty Creator, not a third-grade math teacher.
Add the five and the seven, carry the one.
There. You got it.
Save the prayer for something important next time.
Like long division.
Author: R.
Jesus and the shotgun
It’s amazing how quickly a preacher will turn from preaching love and brotherhood to revenge and bloodshed when you touch his daughter.
Is she an adult? Damn straight, she’s an adult.
The things she can do with her tongue…
The hellfire and brimstone hypocrite reaches past his bible for the shotgun.
Now’s not the time to tell him “She came on to me!”
Now’s the time to run. Run like Hell.
And if you want to pray, pray.
Pray that he didn’t load it, or it jams.
“Call me!” she shouts at your back, as you hear the first blast.
Mailman
Even though you may think that it’s sexist to use the term “mailman” instead of the gender-neutral terms “mailperson” or “letter carrier” the truth is that no matter what gender ratios the Postal Service uses for hiring quotas, much like the clownfish and other unusual coral reef-dwelling species, the staff that runs delivery routes for letters and packages undergoes a metamorphosis which slowly transforms all of them into the male gender.
The Postal Service denies any involvement, because the biological agents they force staff to drink is supposed to render their letter carriers into neutered, docile homonculi, not all men.
Leave no man behind
“Leave no man behind” isn’t the official policy of our armed forces, but they do their best to bring every soldier, pilot, and crewman home that they can.
The obvious exception is when they get vaporized by nuclear weapons, as what happened when the North Koreans tried to reunify with the South.
Or when the Russians let ISIS acquire a pan-dimensional energy source and they sent most of Libya to a parallel dimension. Ain’t nobody coming back.
So, go ahead. Test this new light-speed spacecraft.
If it works, great. If it doesn’t, you get an empty coffin at Arlington, okay?
Weekly Challenge #641 – POWER
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:
TOM
Eroica
Power is over-rated. Not the stuff that squirts out the wall sockets to fire up your cell phones. That stuff is way cool. No, I’m talking about the force to direct the will of the masses. Raw, of times, evil actions who sole purpose it to show who’s on top. A reminder that there are big people and little people. Not talking brownies and fairies. Talking the folk who walk in marble halls. Funny thing is, in the end, even if you’ve walked in the marble hall, the last marble will reduce all your accomplishments to a hand full of words
LIZZIE
Walk forward. Don’t give up. Even when they say you are not worth it. Power. Even if they… Power… Pow…
The robot stopped its roaming and blabbering. We all stared at it, expecting it to return to life as unexpectedly as it had started to move and talk.
“Perhaps if we walk away and come back, it’ll start again,” someone suggested.
But the robot didn’t move when we all did that, its arms awkwardly stretched back. We shrugged and walked away. The museum was big enough.
The robot rotated its head slowly and reprogrammed the data in everyone’s chips.
RICHARD
#1 – Knowledge
I’ve always been told knowledge is power, so I thought I’d try and prove it, and I’m ready to reveal my invention to the world.
The first knowledge-powered vehicle!
It was surprisingly simple to develop.
There was no need to devise exotic new technologies; no messing about with dangerous chemicals or nuclear fuel cells; and the raw materials are all around us.
It’s essentially a variation of the steam engine, using collected knowledge as combustible fuel.
A couple of encyclopaedias will get you to work and back, whilst a university library will keep you going for a year or more!
#2 – Super?
I was a latecomer to the Marvel Universe… A minor character, written in to fill a gap on a storyboard.
By the time they got to me, they were scraping the barrel for new superpowers: All the good ones had already gone to the X-Men, the Hulk, Deadpool, and all the rest of those A-listers.
I suppose a minor, unremarkable character doesn’t deserve anything particularly special anyway, but I do think they might have made a little more effort for me.
But here I am: Doctor Boring… And my super power?
The ability to make paint dry, very slowly indeed.
CHARLIE
Power was delivered to the wheels through the Casemont confabulator. The spiral downdraft tube assembly provided the high octane oxidant to the Belkins oval-throat chambers at the side of the main assembly. We took our chances when we cooled and boosted both of the Merrymount thrust bobbins containing the spindle head valve jacks.
We installed a dozen, brass, hand formed whipple cups for better lubrication, hoping to stabilize redundant lifter spin at high revolutions.
The zenith of measureable output came the day we readjusted the Neiki spinners in the flux field, allowing more ribbons of plasma to enter the Merrymounts.
#2
Normally I don’t talk about my power…my powers. I read minds, heal the sick, see the future, and I make an earthshaking smoothie.
I keep a low profile, having been pestered by “friends”, relatives, and hangers-on. I exercise my powers inconspicuously and privately. Yesterday, I rode my bicycle past the clinic and cured eleven cases of skin rash and nervous leg. Today, I am buying winning lottery tickets and passing the winnings on to the local Vets Support Dogs club.
Everything is anonymous, but I clip all the news articles and copy the Twitter posts and other social media posts.
SERENDIPITY
During the nineteenth century, the infamous – well, infamous if you happen to be a physicist – ‘War of the Currents’ raged.
An epic battle between Edison’s direct current, which he argued was far safer than the alternating current favoured by Tesla, and championed by Westinghouse.
It’s really all academic to most of us now: We just plug in, and play, and it matters little to us what form our electricity takes.
I’m not bothered either.
I just crank up the power as high as I can.
Because agonised screams and burning flesh don’t care if it’s AC or DC!
JEFFREY
Home Renovations
by Jeffrey Fischer
Frank and Jillian’s house already had some years on it when they moved in a decade ago. Jillian wanted to update the kitchen. “New cabinets and countertops, new floors, maybe an island. Oh, and a higher ceiling.”
Frank said, “Fine, I’ll do it myself.”
“Really, Frank? What do you know about home repair? Let’s just hire a contractor.”
But Frank insisted had had seen enough house-flipping shows to tackle the job. He removed the old cabinets, got a friend to help with the heavy lifting, and took down the tiled ceiling. Several electrical wires dropped from the space.
“Hey, I wonder if these are connected to power.” Frank prodded the bare wire with his screwdriver.
Jillian used the life insurance money to hire a reputable contractor to finish the job.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert stood up and set down his butter beer.
“Wow. You’re really pretty”
“Thanks.” Linoliumanda curtsied in her ballerina princess dress. “Here’s your magic wand. It has special power.”
“Really?” Billbert took the wand and waved it.
“Yes, really. Watch this.” She waved her wand at Billbert and said, “Windgardium Leviosa.”
“No. Don’t,” Billbert cried. He knew that the only real power the wand had was the power of suggestion. In his case, the suggestion was enough. He knew the meaning of windardium leviosa. Though he fought to remain on the floor, his grocery bag began to lift him up.
PLANET Z
Dieting and exercise require a lot of willpower.
To eat the right things, in the right amounts.
And not to eat the bad things in any amount at all.
Also, to find ways to burn those calories.
If you don’t, then the problem solves itself, doesn’t it?
You get sick and you die.
Sometimes quickly, from a heart attack or a stroke.
Sometimes slowly, from diabetes or some other disease.
It doesn’t matter, really. When you gotta go, you gotta go, right?
I know a guy who died from eating carrots and celery.
Never mind that he choked to death.
The General’s watch
The old general used to give out his wristwatches as gifts.
He’d take off his wristwatch and hand it to you, saying “Here, have this.”
And you’d say “Thank you” like it was some Rolex.
But they never were.
They were cheap knock-off wristwatches.
Most of the time they were broken. Or had a worn-out leather strap.
Or something else wrong with them.
But a gift’s a gift, right? It’s the thought that counts.
Mine runs pretty well.
Well, ran.
Damn thing wasn’t waterproofed, and I wore it in the shower.
Maybe I’ll give it as a gift to someone?
Outlet Outlet
Hardware sores and department stores in the city are so expensive.
Even the electrical outlet specialty store is out of my price range.
So, when I’m looking for a new electrical outlet, I shop at the outlet outlet store.
It’s in a mall outside of town along with all the other outlet stores for The Gap, American Tourister, and other brands.
Except that instead of fashion, the outlet outlet store has great deals on electrical outlets.
Sure, you have to pay a bit for the gas to get there, but if you’re buying in bulk, it’s well worth the trip.
Sister’s Keeper
Debbie and Marsha had the unexplainable ability to trade body parts.
When Debbie sprained a wrist before a basketball tournament, Marsha swapped wrists with Debbie.
And when Marsha had a rough period before a gymnastics tryout, they traded vaginas.
Whenever one needed the other, she was there, literally lending a hand or whatever was needed.
They found a lump in Marsha’s breast after she had a baby.
Debbie underwent the double mastectomy for her.
They take turns feeding the baby.
After all, with the constant swapping between them, they’re not really sure which one of them is the true mother.
Red Baron Pizza
I wanted to buy a frozen pizza at the grocery store, but all they had was Mexican-style pizza from Red Baron.
Isn’t the Red Baron a German legend?
Why is he making Mexican-style pizza?
And why am I buying a pizza from an enemy combatant?
That’s like Hitler Sandwiches or Bin Laden Ice Cream.
Mexican-style pizza, taking jobs away from American pizza.
We should build a wall. Out of pizza. To keep the Mexican-style pizza out.
And have the Red Baron pay for it!
But then, it’s the Red Baron.
He has a plane. He could just fly over it.
The coroner declares
You do not fuck with the coroner of Smith County.
You do not want him to tell you “You are dead to me.”
If he doesn’t like you, he signs your death certificate, and you’re legally dead.
You lose everything… your job, your bank accounts, your credit cards, your house, your car…
Your life is dead and gone.
And you’re standing there, watching it all happen, and you can’t do a damned thing about it.
And nobody will help you, because you’re dead. The dead are beyond help.
I can’t help you either.
Because the coroner declared me dead, too.