Author: R.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is 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
• Munsi
• Charlie
• Richard
• Kym
• Lizzie
• Serendipity
• Tom
• Tura Brezoianu
• Zackmann
• Spate
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

JEFFREY

The Borrower
by Jeffrey Fischer

Hank and Stu were the best of friends, so when Hank needed a loan of a hundred bucks Stu didn’t hesitate. Ditto when Hank asked to borrow Stu’s car, and when Hank wanted to move in with Stu after Hank’s eviction.

Stu had to admit he was relieved when Hank moved out, only to find that Hank had stolen Stu’s identity and was living large on fraudulently-obtained credit. Good pal or not, this was a step too far. Stu started to dial the police when cops showed up at his door. Seems Hank had been involved in a hit-and-run in Stu’s car. Hank must have figured Stu would lend Hank five to ten years of Stu’s life, because that’s what good buddies are for.

Ten-Four
by Jeffrey Fischer

During the 1970s, my dad succumbed to the CB radio craze and bought a Radio Shack unit for the car. We rarely talked to anyone, but Dad paid attention when truckers warned one another about speed traps.

One day he had the opportunity to return the favor. We had encountered a state trooper with his radar gun out, parked just over the crest of a hill on the interstate. Dad braked just in time, then thumbed the microphone. “Hey out there, be on the lookout for Smokey past the ridge at mile marker 179. He’s in the median. Ugly hat with a radar gun. Ten-four.”

A few minutes later, we heard the bleep of a siren as a trooper pulled us over. The cop leaned into the car and said, “Ugly hat, huh?” That’s how Dad learned the police also listened to CB radio chatter.

MUNSI

On the Nature of Friendship

By Christopher Munroe

You can’t spell “Good Buddy” without “Good Bud,” and that’s why I believe that a true friend will help you find marijuana.

That follows, yeah?

I don’t often smoke the stuff myself, it puts me to sleep, but if somebody comments on wanting some I like the challenge, it makes for a fun game for me.

I’m a grown-assed adult, with zero drug connections, but I’m reasonably intelligent and extremely tenacious, and if I want to buy drugs, then BY ZOD I am going to find someone to sell them!

Yeah, I’m also surprised I don’t get arrested more often…

CHARLIE

My good buddy is my friend, Prince. Prince is a rare Louisiana Catahoula Leopard Dog. He is mid-sized, but only in stature. His IQ was tested at the University of Davis Veterinary School, and measured 130. 130 is a few points higher than the mean IQ of Harvard students. Prince knows over 15,000 words, including common directives like sit, etc. Commands are frequently strung together to form intricate instructions like: “Go outside, evacuate your bowels then come inside for your supper and a drink. Be sure your anus is clean, and wipe your paws before entering. Thank you, Good Buddy.”

RICHARD

#1 – Good Buddy

From the moment I saw it, ‘Every Which Way But Loose’ was my all-time favourite film. More than that, it shaped my career and set me on a lifetime’s quest to live the dream of the long-distance big rig driver.

I won’t say it was easy – it’s a hard lifestyle and a lonely road we truckers drive, but we’re a real community, and sometimes, when I’m perched way up high, looking down on those lesser mortals hanging around my wheels, I can see myself as Clint Eastwood, just like in the film.

Almost…

All I need now, is an orangutan!

#2 – Charlie

I had my doubts about Charlie.

Sure he could write a good tune and his band had bags of enthusiasm, but he just didn’t have the voice for it, or much else, for that matter… He was no Elvis, that’s for sure!

Presley had the hips, the lips, the looks and that look in his eye – not to mention the voice of an angel; what did Charlie have? A pair of spectacles and some catchy rhythms. There was no comparison.

Then he played me his song: ‘That’ll be the day’, and I was hooked.

“That’s good, that’s real good, Buddy!”

KYM

Dear Good Buddy,

It probably seems strange to you that I’m writing you a letter since we talk everyday. Some things are just better expressed in writing. I’ve known you… god… a lifetime, right? In that time, you’ve been an amazing person. Remember you went skydiving because you’re afraid of heights? And you sang in front of 5000 people because you have stage fright? You were… no, ARE my rock star. These last few months have been hard, I know, but it will get better. I’m here for you. Don’t make me leave. Please put the gun down.

Love,
Yourself

LIZZIE

Call him, call him.

He couldn’t call him… What about Helen? And the kids?

That nagging voice at the back of his mind wouldn’t give up though. Just call him and get it over with.

His life would crumble to pieces or it would start anew. The lying, the hiding, the cheating, the faking, all would be a faint recollection of a tortured past.

But the damn questions he’d have to face. Where did you meet him? When did you meet him? Did you ever love me?

Call him. “Hello? Martin? This is Frank.”

That was it. It started. Finally.

SERENDIPITY

A good buddy is hard to find, but you’re the very best.

You have all the qualities, and more, that set you above all the rest.

A good buddy is always there for you, holding your hand, wiping away your tears and helping you back onto your feet.

A good buddy laughs at your jokes, knows your secrets and shares the good times and the bad.

So I know you won’t mind taking the rap for what I’ve done… And, I know you really won’t mind that I used your carving knife, covered in your finger prints.

Thanks, good buddy.

TOM

BrainDead and Damn Proud of It

What do you do when you have no idea of what to write about? Parse the Topic. Well the root of buddy is bud and by context this would be a reference to a person whom shares their father’s name, better than the diminutive Junior, but not by much. Metaphorically a pre-photosynthetic appendage on a family tree. Now placing a “Y” at the end further diminutifies the term, double diminutive. It doesn’t get better, for comparisons: Best, Better, Good, good is pretty much a 3rd rate adjective. Thus you end up with a triple diminutive term of endearment. Ten Four.

Bad Zeitgeist

You know your Fad has reached maximum exposure when someone writes a humorous pop song. The Streaker, King of the Road, Beethoven’s Third Symphony. Did anyone write a pet rock song? When CB-ing smoky and the bandited into mom and pop America the doseit droning of “Convoy” oozed out of every radio pore. In short order even your Grandmother started saying, “10-4 Good Buddy. Right at you Rubber Duck” I wish to god I didn’t have to confess this, but while CB-ing I was actually wearing a leisure suit. Did anyone ever write a song about Polyester Nehru Leisure Suit?

TURA

Good Buddy
———
The original “Good Buddy” app was just a chatbot. You’d let it read your social media accounts, and it would learn to be your virtual companion. It really took off when we bought a robotics company and created the Good Buddy robot companion. We got so huge that when Facebook tried to acquire us, we bought them.

The real money is in the advertising. If you ever chatted with your Good Buddy about where to take a holiday, you went where someone paid us to suggest.

The NSA would love to get access, and “Don’t Be Evil” is so yesterday…

ZACKMANN

Gil and I have been friends for a long time. Every few months when our routes match, we’ll stop and have lunch. Gil has a teddy bear that he calls Monkey McKay. Today we stopped in a truck stop called the Uncharted. After Gil picked out a new souvenir shirt for Monkey McKay, he met me near the Little Debbie’s wafers. Sure enough just like last time I stopped for peanut butter wafers two cars turned into giant robots then started to fight. So here I am stuck in the Uncharted’s dessert aisle with Gil again and his little buddy.

SPATE

Good Buddy

Strangest man I ever met. Everywhere he went, he would be talking to his
imaginary friend called ‘Good Buddy’.

At first I thought he was talking to me. But his words were aimed into empty
airspace and over time I realized I was outside of the conversation.

Then one day I found him folded over, crying.

I put my hand on his shoulder as comfort.

“Good Buddy died” he choked between sobs.

“Reality,” I offered with a sympathetic shrug.

He looked at me squinting through tears. “You don’t understand. He died
twenty years ago today. Good Buddy was my son.”

(music: Galoshes by Podington Bear is licensed under Creative Commons
Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 International License / curated by
freemusicarchive.org)

NORVAL JOE

Dergle walked into the Bust-a-Gut 24 hour gym.
Long John followed, but stopped at the door and sat.
Dergle turned back, patted the wiener dog, and said, “You’re a good buddy. I’ll be out in an hour.”
The owner, Rick Racker, smiled from behind the counter.
“Can I pay you cash for a month membership, so I can use your shower?” Dergle asked.
“The water’s not working at your place?” Rick asked.
“No. I don’t exist anymore,” Dergle said. “So no one will rent to me.”
“That’s pretty harsh,” Rick said. “Park your van in my lot, if you want.”

PLANET Z

Dr. Pepper used to advertise that you should drink a bite to eat at 10, 2, and 4.

But if you drank that much Dr. Pepper, your teeth would rot from all the sugar, and you’d be dead from diabetes before forty.

Hell, you’d be better off drinking vodka that often and early.

Unless, of course, you’re a truck driver.

Cletus always kept a jugs of Smirnoff’s in his cab.

He crossed the median line one day and went head-on with a church van.

He was driving a Dr. Pepper truck.

See? I told you that shit will kill you.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is 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:

• Munsi
• Jeffrey
• Richard
• Kat
• Lizzie
• Tura Brezoianu
• Tom
• Charlie
• Serendipity
• Zackmann
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

MUNSI

Mirrors

By Christopher Munroe

I’ve replaced the ceiling of my bedroom with mirrors.

The walls too.

My quilt and sheet set are now made of reflective material, and I’ve covered what furniature I have with mirrors as well. This way, wherever I look, I can’t escape the vision of myself, reflected back at myself, all the way to infinity.

It’s been suggested that this will drive me mad, and it might. There are days where I feel like it’s driven me mad already…

Nonetheless, it is necessary.

Something, after all, had to be done, to compensate for my own lack of capacity for self-reflection…

JEFFREY

Life in the Fast Lane
by Jeffrey Fischer

The Porsche 911 rocketed down the highway, effortlessly exceeding the speed limit by 40 miles per hour. The car was Larry’s gift to himself, purchased with his annual bonus. His life was in the fast lane; he deserved a commensurate car.

As Larry glanced in the rear-view mirror, he saw a Corvette rapidly gaining on him and pushed harder on the accelerator. For several miles the two cars weaved through traffic, playing a high-stakes game. Then Larry looked in the mirror again to see the ‘Vette drop back substantially. Larry chuckled. Life in the fast lane, loser.

Only then did Larry see the police cruiser coming up quickly, lights flashing and siren wailing. Larry knew what next year’s bonus would buy: a radar detector.

Two Reflections
by Jeffrey Fischer

Hand in hand, Connor and Aileen entered the funhouse, which turned out to consist of but a single room. This contained nothing but two mirrors, about ten feet apart.

Aileen stepped in front of the first and saw a grotesque, bloated reflection. The image had bad skin, bulges in unsightly places, and a rats’ nest of hair. The second mirror displayed a much different Aileen: lithe and pretty, with an inescapable feeling of *lightness* about the image.

Connor took his turn. The first mirror showed a handsome, athletic man, and he smiled at his reflection. The second mirror displayed a mean-looking version of Connor, whose smile was a cruel sneer. Try as he might, Connor could not make the image change.

When the couple left the fun house, a carny passed them a card that read, “The mirrors reflect how you see yourself and how you really are. It is for you to decide which is which.”

RICHARD

Self-Aware

Have you seen the experiment where scientists leave a mirror in the jungle and film the reaction of passing animals in order to measure the level of self-awareness of various species?

Personally, I’m not that impressed with the findings that such experiments reveal – I don’t think that observing an animal react to its own reflection is any real indication of self-awareness.

Take me, for example: I have an absolute loathing for mirrors and if I should happen to pass one, I’ll take great pains to ignore it at all costs.

I don’t want to see my reflection – I’m painfully self-aware!

KAT

Mirror:

I don’t like mirrors.

Never have.

They embody so much of what is wrong with our society.

Why do we even need mirrors?

So we can make sure we measure up to other’s ideals of beauty?

So I can obsess over my crow’s feet, the acne scars that will never go away, or the extra chin that seemed to just appear one day?

When I think of mirrors, I think of the evil queen in Snow White and the story of Echo and Narcissus.

Can you imagine a world without mirrors?

I can.

No mirrors, no more bathroom selfies.

Hooray!

LIZZIE

The antique Victorian mirror had a silver handle, beautifully carved. It glowed each time someone picked it up. Every single person thought that was good, after all everybody secretly wished to be special. The problem was that the more the mirror glowed, the more dangerous it became. No one knew that as soon as the mirror reached a state of glow overload, the first terribly unfortunate soul to hold it would turn into a cranky shriveled old witch. Darn bad luck that Harry was the one who grabbed it. And yes, he is now officially a cranky shriveled old witch.

TURA

Mirror
———
I fear mirrors, for always he is there, facing my seventy-three years with an indeterminate prime of youth. I suppose I looked like him once, but did I have that air of contemptuous superiority?

His tailored clothing is not more expensive than I could once afford, but more than I ever cared to. The face behind his face hints at vices much indulged, yet it is I who weaken with the years.

I speak, but he never replies. I think he will not until I lie dying, to tell me that this world was the reflection, and his the reality.
———

TOM

Keepsakes

Great Aunt Franny’s mirror was the only object she kept from the old country. My Great Grandfather bought it at a market in the Jewish ghetto Vienna. The story goes that the merchant had acquired it from a sufi who had to flee Istanbul. It was said it had been stolen from the Khedive Palace that hugged the Asian coast of the Bosphorus. The silvering at its edge had clouded considerably so her father had gotten it for a little more than a hand full of Maria Theresas. After her wake I searched for the mirror, but never found it.

CHARLIE

It looked old and neglected in the gym mirror. She was 22, and she asked me if I liked the tramp stamp she had for a couple of years. She pulled down her bikini bottom. I saw a big ass and a horrible tat. I asked her, pointblank, where has that ass been? It was a forty- year old ass on a girl only half that age. I’m sorry. That’s no way for a college, swimming coach to talk. I’ve got my own problems. After the areola reduction surgery, I’ve been far too conscious of body images, and I apologize.

2nd

When I studied communications, I concentrated on the unit and practicum that dealt with Neurolinguistic Programming…specifically the technique of mirroring a person to induce in them a frame of mind that allowed control of behavior with my actions, breathing, speech, etc. I put my studies to work the first time I sold a used, British sports car. I kept eye contact while I slowed down the pace of my speech, my movements, and my breathing. In a few moments, I had my customer mirroring me…even as I reached for the contract and the pen she would sign the contract with.

3rd

You need to step away from the mirror every once in a while, and look for another reflection, like the one in the eyes of the people and your dogs, who love and admire you. I know a guy that takes selfies of himself every chance he gets. He takes pictures of himself driving, eating, at work, on the commode, etc. He loves himself. Few others do, since he is a boorish clout, and a self-important twerp. When the door closes in the morning, his wife breathes a deep sigh and drinks a big glass of white wine before breakfast.

SERENDIPITY

I went on an effective communication skills course to build closer relationships with the people I had to work with. It was there that I learned how to mirror non-verbal communication, in order to establish rapport.

I became very good at it, and before long I wasn’t only reflecting mood and temperament, but I was beginning to mirror attitudes, opinions and thought-processes too. Empathy became sympathy and, over time, I gained an understanding that went far beyond professional interest.

Recently, I’ve started mirroring behaviours and activities… not such a good thing when you interview murderers and serial-killers for a living!

ZACKMANN

John exits the restroom squinting.

“Have you seen my sunglasses?” asked John.

“Who do you think you are, Corey Hart? It’s the middle of the night.” replied his roommate.

“Have you ever heard of a mirror universe?” asked John

“Like in Star Trek where everything that is good is bad?” said the roommate.
“Well not in this case. I found a portal under the bathroom sink to a place that everything is reflective. I tried exploring but nearly every time I shined my flashlight at something the reflection nearly blinded me. Here they are. Now to explore brave new worlds ”

NORVAL JOE

Carina and Katrina were twins, mirror images of each other. Everyone thought they were identical, but that would be impossible. The mirror, remember, reveals your true opposite.
Carina was right handed. Katrina was left.
When Carina had a witty thought, her right eyebrow rose of its own accord.
Katrina’s was her left and her thoughts were devious.
Carina was pure hearted and good and when she smiled a deep dimple formed in her right cheek.
Katrina had a dimple as well, but as you’ve surely guessed, it appeared in her left cheek, and something truly wicked was about to happen.

PLANET Z

The General’s assistant has been caught with the rebels.
The rebels were dead, and a firing squad had been assembled for the assistant.
“Any last words?” asked The General.
“How can you stand to look at yourself in the mirror?”
The General smiled.
“I don’t. If you remember, I have people like you to shave me, check my hair, and make sure that my tie is straight.”
The General game the command to fire.
The firing squad took aim, turned, and shot The General.
“And command your troops,” said the assistant.
The firing squad reloaded, turned, and shot him, too.