Even though there’s dog waste bag dispensers and disposal kiosks, people still walk their dogs and rarely pick up after them.
It stinks, it’s unhealthy, the shit’s all over the sidewalk, and my laundry cart ends up rolling over the turds.
So, I go from door to door with an ultrasonic dog whistle and blow it.
If I hear a dog barking, I make a note and move on to the next door.
After getting an inventory of dog owners, I wait until night, and then I shit on their welcome mats.
“You’re welcome,” I shout, and run back home.
Author: R.
The Dark Lord and a Biscuit
The chicken processing plant is a factory.
Chickens, hung by their legs along a track.
Their heads pulled off, their guts reamed out.
Their feet chopped off for soup.
Slashed and broken by workers with chain mesh gloves and the sharpest blades.
Breasts, tenders, wings, thighs, legs.
All tossed down chutes for packaging.
The rest, we send to the priests.
Who sacrifice the bloody mass to our Dark Lord.
With his nine thousand faces, we scream out his name.
He leaves a trail of blood and flame for us to follow.
As the chicken processing plant fades into the darkness.
Hung up on
Of all the antiquated terms people use, I find “hanging up” the phone to be the most amusing.
We used to hang the receiver on the phone to terminate the connection.
Now, it’s a button on a cell phone.
Although pushing a button to cut off a call, depending on the type of phone, that’s been around a while.
Picking up a phone to take a call isn’t always necessary.
When we have headsets and speakerphones and car phones, we don’t actually pick up the phone.
And illegal, when you’re driving.
But I guess hanging up is my biggest hangup.
The remote
I’ve been going to Ryan’s Bar for years, and it’s a tradition that the oldest guy drinking at the bar gets the television remote.
Whatever he chooses, everybody watches.
If you want to watch something else, buy him a drink.
Maybe he’ll change his mind.
The better the drink, the better your chances.
And the bigger the drink, the faster he’ll get drunk and pass out.
Leaving the remote to the next oldest guy.
One old fart kept wanting to watch cartoons.
Ryan took the remote’s batteries out.
“You get the remote,” said Ryan. “But you’re not ruining my bar.”
Weekly Challenge #939 – Train
The next topic is PICK TWO Still, Officer down, Random Action, One two three…, Pure, You never know
RICHARD
Railway lines
I’m writing this on the train.
It’s a good way to kill the time between departure and arrival, and it’s surprising how even the longest journey can seem to fly by.
Some might prefer to gaze out of the window, snooze or read, I’ve tried them all – had to really, when the job meant travelling for hours on end, most days of the week.
Then we discovered online meetings.
And the travelling stopped.
The writing didn’t, although somehow it seems I never have the time, these days.
So, it’s good to be back on the train.
Getting creative once again.
LIZZIE
Train the mind, train the body. Row, row, row. And that was the deal. Resurface after a downfall. Get up and walk, get up and run. Go, go, go. But he didn’t want to go, go, go. He didn’t want to get up and he definitely didn’t want to resurface.
He didn’t mind the rowing, though. After rowing away for hours, he landed at a beach. Nice. Seagulls in the background. He could get used to this, he thought, until his coach showed up. How…?
“GPS, my son, GPS. Why do you think I gave you that gadgety little watch?”
SERENDIPIDY
I bet they never trained you how to deal with this, did they?
Oh yes, you can kill a man with your bare hands, survive in the wild with no food or shelter, sneak up and overcome an enemy before they even know you’re there.
I know they trained you to resist any kind of torture, giving away nothing but your name, rank and serial number.
And I’m sure you’re very good at it too.
But they never trained you for this.
And it’s going to last the rest of your life.
So just say ‘I do’, and kiss me!
LISA
Welcome
“So, Welcome to Newton Manor.”
He pauses, smiles.
“There’s a train station nearby- it’s unused. The ticket office is in our grounds. When the house was built our ancestors had the village moved. The quickest escape would be to walk down the path following the old tracks. That said, I’m happy to drop you in town if any of you want to leave.
This is my brother, and since our parents died, we live here alone. It was nothing sinister, old age, but it has left us financially secure and potentially in a position to create something very special here.”
TOM
Penny a Point
I grew up a mile and half from the City of New Orleans tracks. On very still nights could hear it moving down the tracks. One of the joys of being a kid was taking rapped interest in semi-destructive acts. Take flattening copper pennies on train tracks. Not as easy as one would think. The speed and weight of the train play crucial factors in perfectly squashed coins. Also, age. Secondly even if you found the best location of the rails finding the pennies was another matter. Multiple squashes ruined the aesthetic. I have no idea where those pennies went
855
When Stripes Ruled
The United Mime Workers Union a was seriously bad ass union. Gave the Teamsters a hard run for the honors. You had to be hecka strong to free yourself from an unseen glass box. Find your way around imaginary invisible walls. They never loss an invisible tug of war. Never ones to be lifted into heaven by non-existent balloons. Go toe to toe with a man who could lift an impossibly heavy bag try that after 15 beers. Sadly, the Mime Works Union isn’t what it uses to be. Striking using imaginary lead pipe just does not cut it.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert and his parents walked to their car in silence.
He wondered what Sabrina was going to do now that her only relative was dead. Could she live by herself in Buhmilda’s meadow?
Once inside the car, Billbert’s father broke into his train of thoughts, and asked, “Are you going to tell us what happened, son?”
“Sorry, Dad,” he said, swallowed a lump in his throat, and went over the entire story.
“I want to see Sabrina in the hospital,” Billbert said when he was done.
His mother grimaced. “Not yet. You need to give her a chance to rest.”
PLANET Z
We tied the principal to the train tracks.
Then, we went to the all-night Taco Bell.
Over nacho supremes, we laughed and challenged each other to suck down one hot sauce packet after another.
We painted the parking lot with our vomit and stumbled back to the tracks.
The whole area was swarming with twisted metal and men in hazmat suits.
A train pulling chemical tankers had derailed.
“They’ve been exposed,” said a sheriff in a gas mask, pointing at the vomit on our shirts.
We were stripped, hosed down, had blood taken and tested, and kept for observation overnight.
CHATGPT
In the hushed symphony of wheels on tracks, Sarah found solace. Each rhythmic clack echoed her journey, stitching together fragments of her life. From the misty morning platform to the dusk-kissed horizon, the train became her vessel of transformation. Through frosted windows, she watched landscapes blur, mirroring the fleeting moments of her existence. Strangers became companions in this transient world, sharing tales untold. Yet, as stations passed like chapters turned, Sarah realized the true journey wasn’t measured in miles, but in the evolution of her spirit. And so, with every journey’s end, she found herself reborn, a traveler forever bound to the rails.
Didn’t you used to be?
You never know which home run is the last home run you hit.
Or give up as a pitcher.
The last touchdown you catch. Or throw. Or run.
Or get called back because of your holding penalty.
Maybe it’s your call from the booth. Television. Radio.
The last dunk. The last free through.
The last foul, when you foul out of the game.
All your days on the field, the court are long gone.
Trade in your cleats for a suit.
The last time you get recognized on the street.
“Hey, didn’t you used to be…”
And sign an autograph.
Teddy Baskets
Teddy Baskets leads the league in scoring.
Triple Double Teddy.
But he also leads the league in shots. And shots missed.
And fouls and turnovers and minutes.
If you average things out, you’ll see why Teddy’s team is in last.
Nobody else gets any shots because Teddy’s a ball hog.
He fights his own team for every rebound.
And hates coming out of the game, even if he’s on a cold streak or exhausted.
Laying in the jacuzzi after the game, bitching to his agent on his cell phone.
The team’s trainer casually knocks a plugged-in lamp into the tub.
Called strikes
It was fourth grade recess league softball, and I managed to avoid my name sticking to any roster.
The teachers didn’t know what to do, so they asked if I’d be an umpire.
“No,” I said.
But they made me do it anyway.
“Strike!” I shouted after every pitch, even ones that hit the plate.
The principal, who was pitching, had me move next to him.
“Strike!” I continued to shout.
A gang of other kids joined the chorus.
“Strike! Strike! Strike!” they shouted mockingly.
“Oh, good,” I said. “You can take over then.”
And I walked home from school.
Burning things
Johnny started a TikTok account and posted all kinds of things, but he wasn’t getting any views.
So, he started posting videos of fires.
Burning cars. Burning buildings. Burning parks.
This got him a lot of views.
But the other people posting videos of those fires also got lots of views.
And some of them got more views than Johnny.
So, he burned down their houses.
Eventually, Johnny got caught.
As he sat in his cell, he smelled smoke. A fire alarm went off.
Johnny yelled for a guard… to bring him his phone so he could post a video.
If you can’t take away guns…
So, you want to stop school shootings?
Metal detectors haven’t worked.
Guards haven’t worked.
Safe zones haven’t worked.
Lots of people are talking about taking away guns again.
As if you could take away the guns.
And even if you stop selling the big guns, there’s still the guns out there.
Background checks? Doesn’t work for stolen COVID funds, won’t work for guns.
Stop smuggling? Every border has a price.
So, I came up with another plan.
Homeschooled kids don’t bully their classmates.
Homeschooled kids don’t shoot their classmates.
Take away schools.
And you take away the classmates to kill.