Sappy has been the village idiot of Martinsdale for over forty years.
He’s the best village idiot that Martinsdale ever had, and Martinsdale has had a lot of good village idiots. Especially since the factory was built and began dumping all those chemicals upriver.
Folks from the government tested the water supply, and they gave those chemicals long funny names that nobody understands.
Sappy must have gotten a double dose of the stuff. He drools and howls and poops his pants better than anybody else.
The government threatens to close the Martinsdale factory. But we need the jobs.
Especially Sappy.
Author: R.
Pass Inspection
Fred and Joey do car maintenance together. They just don’t do a good job of it.
Sure, they offer a money-back guarantee if you’re not satisfied with their work, but the odds are that you won’t collect on that.
The county’s got a lot of hills and ravines, and if your brakes fail, you’re pretty much a goner whether you’ve got your seatbelt on, or those fancy new airbags going off.
Joey thought Fred was stealing from him. And Fred thought the same as Joey.
Both ended up wrecked in the bottom of Smith’s Gulch, money burning in their pockets.
Weekly Challenge #532 – Animal
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:
JEFFREY
Dem Bones
by Jeffrey Fischer
Cal spotted the mound of dirt first. “There it is!” He pointed for the benefit of Rose and Shel. They all turned 14 within a few weeks of one another and were inseparable that summer.
“Seems like a weird place to bury treasure,” Rose observed.
“What else could it be?” said Shel. “Let’s start digging.”
The three threw themselves into shovel work. They ignored signs of animal activity, but they couldn’t ignore the growing stench from the hole. When Cal uncovered a hand, all three dropped their shovels and ran. They had found buried treasure, just not the kind they expected.
Animal Spirits
by Jeffrey Fischer
John Maynard Keynes used the phrase “animal spirits” to describe the instinctual, rather than mathematical, behavior that underlies many decisions. Individually, these decisions may be wise or unwise but it is only collectively through which true disasters arise. From Tulip Mania in the 17th century to 19th century bank runs to asset price bubbles today, large numbers of uninformed people making emotional decisions rarely turns out well.
In light of this, one has to question the wisdom of universal suffrage. And that’s before seeing this year’s Presidential candidates!
CHARLIE
Sam Torrent was an animal. He had a penchant for focused skullduggery, or shall we say, skullbuggery. As the Master of Arms for the Throbbing Gristle Motorcycle Club, Torrent was the toughest, most psychotic and aberrant of the members. He once hacked off a rival’s head and copulated with the empty eye socket of the dead enemy of a rival biker club. At home, he was like no other sadistic person. He organized hunting clubs, managed dog fights, made meth, and coached peewee football teams. He was never prosecuted for his buggery, as all the witnesses disappeared before the trial.
#2
One of my favorite animals, beside the dog, giraffe, elephant, cat, is the rhino. Rhino’s have gumption and personality. Anyone who has ever hung out with a rhino or group of rhinos will quickly learn that they are very generous and thoughtful. They are happy to share their mud holes, and happy to give you a boost if you catch yourself stuck in hole. At 5 thousand pounds, they are pretty agile, unlike my Cousin Billy. Again, if you ever have the opportunity to communicate with one of these magnificent mammals, let them know straightaway you mean them no harm.
RICHARD
#1 – Tricked
The creature leaped gleefully out of the cave, leaving Boggins relieved and alone – and still in possession of his gold ring!
Before the hobbit could come entirely to his senses a terrifying sound echoed through the forest outside: The roar of an enraged dragon, followed by an animal howl of pain.
He listened in terror, and waited.
It seemed hours before the dragon’s snuffling and grunts finally disappeared into the distance; to be absolutely sure, Boggins counted to a hundred before creeping from the cave.
All was still, apart from his heart, as he stealthily crept through the undergrowth.
#2 – Animal Magnetism
I’m told that I have animal magnetism, and trust me… It’s really not all it’s cracked up to be.
I can’t walk down the street without every passing dog being attracted to my legs, cats have to be peeled off my lap, and rabbits physically restrained from jumping into my arms.
That’s not the worst of it – I once made the mistake of visiting the zoo…
There are few things more terrifying than seeing the vast bulk of an elephant being irresistibly dragged towards you against its will.
Although a projectile meerkat in the groin is pretty unpleasant too!
#3 – Animal
Animal was always my favourite Muppet – not exactly a popular choice, I know, but everyone liked Kermit and Miss Piggy… they were just a little bit too mainstream for me.
He reminded me of Keith Moon, and I often imagined him heading back to his dressing room, smashing the place up and throwing a TV out of the window; Kermit waving his stick like green arms around in consternation, desperately trying to calm him down.
What they don’t tell you is that the current Animal is just a puppet – the original died in 1989 from a drug overdose.
LIZZIE
“My friend, I’ve killed Mrs. Squirrel.”
Pam looked at the talking squirrel in shock but decided to play along.
“Where did you bury her?”
“I didn’t. I put her up on the wall.”
“What?”
“I’ll show you.”
Mrs. Squirrel’s head was indeed mounted above the mantelpiece.
“There was a problem,” said Mr. Squirrel.
“Only one?!”
“The biggest one was that I drank from this bottle. I was thirsty.”
The label read “Back to Nature”.
“I never thought it would actually turn me into an animal.”
Pam shook her head. “That damned snake oil salesman. We’ll get the antidote from him.”
SERENDIPITY
Animal
I know when you’re afraid – I can sense your fear and that reluctance you try so hard to hide.
It’s almost as if I have a sixth sense: One that is attuned to your fear and knows when you are feeling at your weakest.
And believe me, it’s never let me down yet.
So you can hide in the crowd, put on your act of bravado and seek shelter amongst those who are stronger, but I will always sniff you out and hunt you down.
Because, no matter what you do, I can smell your fear.
It’s animal instinct.
TOM
Animal Crackers
It happens from time to time that the story is a story about writing a story. My personal prime directive is: whatever pops into my head first that’s what I write about. This normally works well, but this week the first thing into my head was Animal Crackers. If that wasn’t sad enough it came with a singing and dancing Shirley Temple. Animal crackers in my soup Monkeys and rabbits loop the loop Gosh oh gee but I have fun Swallowing animals one by one. You get the drift, height of the depression, sometimes silly is the only cure for sorrow.
Footnote: the guy who wrote this song also wrote tea for two and swanee Irving Caesar
NORVAL JOE
“Well, even still. You don’t have to get along to work together if you have a common cause,” Mandy said. “I mean, this Polecat doesn’t sound like a very nice person.”
Cherry Cola laughed. “Yeah. Not a nice person. Polecat is an animal. She doesn’t care about anyone but herself.”
“What does that make you, Cherry?” Mickey asked. “Did you care what happened to me when you left me with Team Horse Feathers?”
“That’s not fair, Mickey.” Cherry reached her hand toward him. “You know I had no choice.”
Mickey shrugged. “I guess you’re right. Deep down, we’re all animals.”
MUNSI
Led Zeppelin
By Christopher Munroe
What’s the lead singer of Led Zeppelin?
Not who, obviously I know who he is, I’m familiar with the band. By this point I suspect everyone knows WHO Led Zeppelin are.
Rather: What?
I mean, he’s vegetable; obviously, the man is literally named Plant. And similarly, he’s mineral. He both defines and embodies the very nature of Rock.
But also: I would contend that, judging by his mane and the sounds he makes, he’s some kind of wild animal.
In this sense, he is animal, vegetable and mineral.
And, as such, the best choice for a game of twenty questions…
TURA
Animal
———
The great Professor Hegelbaum planned an encyclopaedic work describing all the animals of the world. He soon realised that the task was too gigantic, and limited his attention to sea animals. This being still too overwhelming, he decided to make his mark with an exhaustive inventory of the echinoderms. But they proved too varied and numerous, and he settled on classifying the crinoids, upon which he was the world’s expert. Fearing that even this would take more years than he might expect, he at last published the monograph that defines Hegelbaum’s legacy: “Some lesser crinoids of the south-east Indonesian littoral”.
———
PLANET Z
“It’s just an animal,” they say.
“You’re just an animal too,” I say back.
They just don’t understand.
They’ll never understand.
You don’t own a pet.
They own you.
Or those who mean well, but…
“Here, have a puppy,” they say.
“Here, have a kitten,” they say.
It doesn’t work like that.
What if you lost your son or daughter?
Or mother or father?
“Here, have a baby,” you say.
Imagine the shock.
Someone handing you a baby.
At the visitation. Or the funeral.
“You can give it their name.”
It’s just an animal, after all.
They just don’t understand.
A touching story
Billy was always getting into trouble with the other kids.
Trouble, as in things you don’t talk about.
Inappropriate touches. Things you can’t chalk up to youthful curiosity.
Things you lock up in the basement or the attic, and you try to forget about.
His parents were always telling him to keep his hands to himself.
So, he did. And for a while, things calmed down to the point where they thought they could send him back to school.
But when you use a branding iron, nobody needs a doll to show where the bad man touched them.
Wanna see?
Otters
The teacher said on the report card that Bobby doesn’t play well with otters.
Otters? Doesn’t she mean others?
I scheduled a parent-teacher conference for the following Tuesday, and I was horrified to find the classroom covered with blood and hair and gristle.
“What kind of slaughterhouse do you run here?” I exclaimed.
“It’s your son Bobby!” answered the teacher. “Didn’t you read my note? Your little monster doesn’t play well with otters.”
“Otters?” I looked around. “These are dead otters?”
The teacher nodded.
I apologized to the teacher, grounded Bobby for a week, and suspended his annual zoo membership.
Not Guilty By Reason
I never liked green beans. They always made me feel sick.
“I made them, and you’ll goddamned well them!” my mother would shout at me. “They’re good for you.”
“No they’re not!” I’d shout back, and throw up.
Things got nasty as I got older. Then one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. The cops came and found me standing over Mom’s body, screaming and still holding the knife.
The doctors checked me out, head to toe.
“You’re allergic to green beans,” they said. “Clearly a case of child abuse.”
Insanity, schmanity. I was not guilty by reason of allergy.
Steam Clean
It’s been over seventeen years since I showered with her, but I still remember every moment, every wet touch. Her nipples in my fingers, her tongue on my mouth, her hands around my back.
“When I was with you, I never came,” she told me years later. “But some things are better than that.”
She’d had trouble sleeping one night, and half-awake, we ground on each other for an hour on the sofa until we both fell asleep together.
But it wasn’t enough for her.
She dumped me, quit her job, and moved away.
I had the sofa professionally steam-cleaned.
Showdown In New England
The Library wants to build an expansion.
The Y wants to build a pool.
There’s only money in this town to build one of them.
The Y got the jump on the Library, holding bake sales and dances.
The Library offered up naming rights. The Y’s donors called to ask that their checks not be deposited just yet.
Nobody was sure who called out who, but the next day, two directors faced each other on Main Street at high noon.
Donors lined the streets, placing bets and making pledges.
The pool got built. The Library expanded.
So did Boot Hill.
Baldness
The first time I shaved my head, I had to wrap a towel around my head so I could sleep. My bare scalp against the pillow felt cool, but it felt weird.
The cat who slept on my pillow with me found my head fascinating. She licked my scalp for a while until I wrapped my head with the towel.
Now, beside the shock of seeing myself in the mirror, it’s not a strange feeling at all. Even when I run my hand along the bumps and stubble.
People say it looks great, and you can hardly see the sixes.
Weekly Challenge #531 – Feathers
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
I had feathers for one day, and then all was back to normal. There were bright blue, feathered wings, fluorescent red ones on my breast, with a shiny, black bib, while yellow and orange ones crowned my head. I was free, and I was a big-really big-bird. I took the liberty of flying over city hall and waiting for the mayor to step out of the building and start walking to his car. I was ten feet above and swooped in, laying three feet of cable on his head, shoulders, and Italian suit. I flew away, quickly, chirping and clucking.
#2
I nocked the arrow, checked the feathers, and took aim on my target, releasing breath as I did. My target kept moving, and I was losing confidence that I could hit the apricot without sending the Carbon Express, Maxima, RZ, Select shaft through my cousin’s forehead. I steadied myself, moved out of my default mental space and into a mindful frame of mind, simultaneously relaxing the fingers of my string hand. As I was taught, I did not know when the arrow was going to be sent. I only heard the sound of the arrow as it cut the air.
#3
The first time Walt Air took me up for some in-flight checks, we flew the Cessna Twin. We simulated a right engine failure and restart with feathered prop. We had plenty of altitude to do this exercise and there was little traffic on our Southern leg from Walt’s to the Seattle area. My instructor, Buster, was a calm young man, and very attentive to procedure and detail. I tossed my cookies on my “shutdown secure” check list. I used his when I ran through the procedures. When signed off that day, Buster gave me the papers and two sick bags.
JEFFREY
Blue
by Jeffrey Fischer
Listening to the right piece of music, even just a few phrases, can make the spirit feel feather-light. Music can evoke the past, tap into a variety of emotions, revitalize the soul, lift one out of the doldrums.
Then the darkness descends again. Instead of feeling free, one is anchored by lassitude. Everything seems pointless. One’s loathing for other people is surpassed only by one’s self-loathing.
Grimly, one finds the playlist, the one with those songs, and, hoping against hope, presses the start button. The sense of well-being may not last forever, but this moment is all that matters.
Early One Morning
by Jeffrey Fischer
You caress me with the tips of your fingers, so lightly it feels like the brush of a feather. I keep my eyes closed, wanting this waking moment to continue. Your fingertips move along my arm, then across my bare chest. I allow myself a smile. “Oh, honey, that feels good,” I moan.
“Did you say something to me?” your voice calls from a distance. I open my eyes. A huge spider pauses on its way across my torso, its eyes staring quizzically at me. I leap out of bed with an undignified “Oh shit oh shit oh shit,” flicking the creature off me.
LIZZIE
Feather Brain?
“Hey, feather brain, wake up!”
Peter straightened up and tilted his head to one side, then to the other.
“I’m awake.”
“What’s your task for today?”
“I don’t know.”
“Go to the Task Dispenser and press a number.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“I accomplished it.”
“You were sleeping. How could you have accomplished anything?”
Peter searched his pocket and produced a crumpled slip of paper he handed to the robot. It stated “Take the day off”.
The robot stormed away in a fit of rage, screaming.
“Who hacked the Task Dispenser again? If I catch you, you’ll be sorry. I swear.”
RICHARD
Feathers!
I’m all for the advancement of science and the debunking of myths in favour of hard facts, but sometimes science can go just a little too far.
Warm-blooded dinosaurs I can handle: Even brightly coloured, spritely dinosaurs I can manage; but, when science asks me to believe that dinosaurs were covered in feathers, then as far as I’m concerned, science can take a running jump.
I refuse to accept the notion that T-Rex was just some overgrown version of Tweetie Pie – it’s just wrong on every level.
And it’s ruined the idea of Jurassic Park for me, forever!
MUNSI
Her Bangs
By Christopher Munroe
Her bangs feathered out to either side of her face like the wings of some majestic bird…
Some mythical creature, both immeasurably powerful and graceful beyond imagination, beautiful enough to reduce a grown man to gasping, awestruck tears and yet terrifying in its ability to put your world into sharp perspective.
Against those bangs, other hairstyle couldn’t compete.
Against those bangs, nothing else in life could be said to have meaning…
I liked her hair, basically.
It suited her.
I don’t know if she’d had it cut or was just styling it differently, but whatever she was doing, it worked…
SERENDIPIDY
They say that peacock feathers are unlucky, but I suppose people will believe any old superstition if they want to.
Personally, I don’t believe a word of it… Have you ever known any misfortune come to someone as a consequence of such things?
Oh look… You’ve spilled the salt!
Be a dear and grab a peacock feather to brush it up – there’s one in the cupboard under the broken mirror, near that open umbrella, just beneath the ladder. Careful you don’t trip over the cat.
And if that doesn’t bring you bad luck…
I’ll punch you in the nose!
TOM
Cheap Chopped Chicken Feathers
Season 4 | Episode 21
When I was small we had these blue stripped pillows. They were stuffed with chicken feathers. Often the point of one of the feathers would poke out of the cloth case and scratch you on the face. Only way to get rid of the feather was to pull it out. Little by little the pillow deflated over the years, till they weren’t much of a pillow at all. Mom switched over to crumped foam. Those totally sucks, so I laid major coin for gooses down. Now I got Tempur-Pedic, very comfy. Don’t real miss the feathers, time marches on.
NORVAL JOE
“So it sounds to me like all of you are on the same side,” Mandy said. “With Polecat being your mutual enemy, you could start your own super hero team.”
“I don’t think so,” Monkey Boy said. ” Ferret was supposed to eliminate Cherry Cola–we can’t trust her. Last time I worked with Cherry Cola, she deserted me and left me a captive to team Horse Feathers.”
“Team who?” Ferret asked.
“They’re a loosely knit group of semi-comedic anti-heroes which I’d infiltrated, until Cherry turned her back on me,” Mickey said. “No. I don’t think we’ll make a good team.”
TURA
Feathers
———
Nothing can beat playing golf with golfballs you made yourself. To begin, get a stone of goose feathers from your local goose farmer– this will make several hundred golfballs. Take a top-hatful (the traditional measure), pound them with a beechwood mallet, and when they begin to compact, add a trace of bezoar gum to bind the mass. Finish the core with a coat of naturally drawn indiarubber solution in turpentine.
Part two of this series will show how to hand-stitch the leather cover.
Hipster Hobbyist: the magazine of ways to spend your leisure in backbreaking labour of no economic value.
PLANET Z
The philosopher asks: Which falls faster, a pound of feathers or a pound of lead?
Because of air resistance, the pound of lead would fall faster, right? The feathers catch the air and flutter slowly to the ground.
But not necessarily.
If you use a hydraulic press to mash the feathers into a ball, it fill fall rather quickly.
And if you hammer the lead into soft thin strips, they will flutter to the ground like feathers.
In the end, it’s not what something is made of, but how you shape it.
Well, that, and how you interpret the question.