Weekly Challenge #439 – Guard

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: GUARD

We’ve got stories by:

The next 100 word stories weekly challenge is on the topic of ALWAYS…

Tinny paws

JOHN

Prostate Means: “Guard”
By John Musico

Prostate is Greek meaning, “guard”. It stands like a sentinel in front of the bladder.
Its job is to make semen to afford fluid for the sperm from the testicles to swim like little tadpoles.
If a man has his prostate removed; when he orgasms: he doesn’t ejaculate.
The fluid contains sugar to fuel the sperm for their journey upriver.
The pH is alkaline, giving it a chlorine odor, to neutralize the acidic pH of vaginal fluids.
A prostate that feels like your nose tip is normal, a chin when enlarged, a forehead when cancerous, or a cheek when inflamed.

JEFFREY

The Museum
by Jeffrey Fischer

The day was scorching, and humid to boot. As a result, the museum was getting substantially more walk-in business than usual, people taking advantage of the free admission and climate-controlled atmosphere to escape the brutal heat outdoors. The priceless artwork required precise temperature and humidity controls, allowing masses of humanity to free-ride on the needs of the collection. The guard understood all this, but was still on edge as the extra visitors made his job harder, particularly when parents of small children failed to corral their offspring. “Please don’t touch the paintings,” the man repeated, maneuvering the child away from the Renoir while giving the evil eye to the parents. He looked forward to the return of cooler weather.

Pork
by Jeffrey Fischer

“No more pork!” was their rallying call. The party would no longer buy votes from individual Congressmen by allowing pet projects to be attached to bills. These guys were serious. Well, except for the new highway for the influential Representative from Alabama, or the upgrade to the rural airport that served the senior Senator from Idaho. Pretty soon, the new crowd was baffled to discover that the deficit had increased once again, and that taxes would have to go still higher. Putting politicians in charge of taxpayer money was like voting for the fox to guard the henhouse.

RICHARD

#1 – George’s Story – Part 71: Return to the hospital

Although it was some time since he’d first left the hospital, and much had happened since, the memories of those first terrifying hours warned him to be on guard.

All seemed quiet, but he knew the silence hid many horrors within those walls.

Gingerly, he approached the entrance, senses alert and heart pumping.

He pushed the door slowly open.

Silence.

He paused, weighing up his options…

Medical records – that was it! If anything could cast a light on his circumstances, his hospital notes held the key!

The only problem was, he had no idea where in the building he’d stayed.

#2 – Guardian of the Key

“I am the Guardian of the Sacred Key – none pass this way without my leave”

I could tell this wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe I could make a run for it, but I knew he was fleet of foot; perhaps I could negotiate, but experience told me it wouldn’t work. In the end, I decided on the straightforward approach.

“Just give me the key, I’ve no time for this”

Deflated, he passed the key and the great book.

“Sign here”, he said.

“Bloody security guard!” I thought, “Give a man a uniform and it goes straight to his head!”

SERENDIPITY

“Guard your words men; the walls have ears”, I whispered.

Silently, we made our way through the deserted corridors. Silently, that is, save for Williams, sniggering at the rear.

I held up my hand and called a halt.

“What exactly is your problem, private?”, I asked.

“The walls have ears!”, he laughed, “That’s funny!”

I held a finger to my lips: “I’ll say it once more – guard your words!”

He continued laughing until, exasperated, I grabbed his collar.

“Yes, private… the walls have ears, and they also have mouths!”, I snarled, as I fed him, screaming, to the hungry building.

MUNSI

Guard

By Christopher Munroe

It started with a typo on a memo.

A type-mo, if you will.

Kids breaking into the grounds at night, drinking underage, smashing bottles in the lot around the factory, and everyone agreed something had to be done.

We didn’t have the budget to hire security, much though we wanted to, but the solution we came up with, we agreed, would satisfy our modest needs for a little extra deterrent against nighttime intruders.

With hindsight, however, we should have proofread the final memo a little better.

We bought a guard Doge.

And now…

Such Secure

Very Safety

Many Protection

Wow.

ZACKMANN

“What do you really do?” asked Drew.

“I observe and report. I report if anything is broken or anyone is breaking laws or policies. If there is a real problem I call maintenance, the police, or the fire department.” Zack replies.

“So you really shouldn’t be called a guard but a monitor since monitor seems to be the main focus of your job.” said Drew.

“Which is totally okay. We prefer to be called security officer over guard because of the past times when guards did beat people up and were involved in union busting. Big changes in recent decades.”

CHELSEA

Guard

Such a heart breaking thing to watch. But In the end there just wasn’t enough time to accomplish both. Faster than a speeding bullet and still just not fast enough.

What was it all for? Why have such incredible power if you couldn’t use it to guard the ones you loved?

And I was with him up to that point and Then he flew fast enough to turn back time and I was lost. My eight year old brain just knew that it wouldn’t work. You can’t rewind time that way! But I guess that’s comic book logic for you.

TURA

Guard
——–
After an assassin reached the Emperor himself, forcing him to a lightsabre duel, the Emperor decreed new security measures. Armed spaceships would surround the imperial planet, and robot armies would ceaselessly patrol its land, seas, and skies. Gun emplacements would ring the palace, every door of which would open only to the hand of the Emperor and his staff. Communications equipment was heavily firewalled against cyberattacks.

So strong was the security, that he found himself unable to admit or communicate with his ministers and generals, nor himself leave. And so the Empire continues without him.

Long live the Invisible Emperor!

TOM

Check Mate

Kent tipped the King over.

“Another?’

“No, thanks that is sufficient whipping for one day.”

“Going to miss you Old Man.”

Dorsey laughed at the prison guard, a good decade his senior, but at 55 after 30 years on death row he figured he had racked up a good 20 more.

“What you going to do?” ask Dorsey rolling the rook over in his hand.

“Probably end up in the park playing chess.”

“And you?”

Dorsey laughed again.

“Got a hearing this month, might be joining you.”

Kent returned a weak smile.

“Never Know.”

“Changed my mind. Black or white?”

Asset

The lights showed the faintest of activity. Her condition hovered between guarded and critical. Agent Parker had taken up residency in the Big Old Chair, a Tempurpedic prototype from Pfizer, on the off chance Laura Evans regained lucidity. Yes, guarded was the watch word for the whole operation, as in, great risk, limited hope of success, for a veneer of useful intelligence. The syncopated cycling of the respirator has started to make subtle regular changes. Parker took Evans hand whispered in her ear. Three nearly perceivable tap was all the agent needed. Time to merge back into the dark shadows.

Well Defined Relationship Part 68

As the WhiteStar passed through the jump-gate mother dropped decorously to the ground.

“I am a reasonable person, all I wanted was steady employment, as the Bookkeeper of a Doctor, mundanity at its finest, no adventures, no peril, no trapping off in the Boarder Land, are you getting this Duke?”

“I hear you Mrs. Parsons you wanted a normal life to raise your son. So did I, well a normal death. Your son’s pray changed all that. One second I’m playing Pinochle with Pascal in shell, the next moment I’m a full blown Deity Guardian and Guard of the Universe

DIONYSIUS

Tarney drove as if to guard against vanishing.

On the one hand, this drew honking, curses, and gestures from the drivers around him as he crept along at subminimal speeds, waited long after every intersection had cleared, and signaled his intentions long before he intended to do anything. As a passenger in Tarney’s car, one usually bore up under this glacial movement designed to preserve Tarney (and oneself) against any potential vanishing.

On the other hand, there was no hope of hurrying away from vanishing when Tarney failed to anticipate the truck, the driver shifting up into the intersection, bearing down on me in the passenger seat.

The Guards of Sardanapalus

We were the guards of Sardanapalus.

Causing his retinue and concubines, along with his wealth in gold and jewels, to be gathered and entered into the great pyre, Sardanapalus, the last king of Assyria, proclaimed these words: Physical pleasure is the only good. Our enemies even now threaten us for celebrating this belief. We go to end all pain!

(We had often stood watch over his orgies.)

These loyal guards must remain behind. Honor their loyalty. Gladly would they follow us into the flames wherein we go to celebrate satiate desire. Their courage is their willingness to stay behind with you.

Thus survived the guards of Sardanapalus.

Duty

He had become somewhat famous.

After a tortuous journey, we reached the remote area and found him seated under a rock ledge overlooking a barren valley.

He watched us climbing to him.

Not that impressive up close. He had only a few teeth and his skin was a sun-darkened mass of wrinkles. We offered beer.

I cannot, he said.

We blinked into the sun. You know, your war — your country — ended years ago, I said.

My duty is to guard this pass.

Do you get cable out here? asked Burke. Or many girls?

But honestly it wasn’t that much fun, and we regretted wasting the time.

SPATE

Bedtime Story

Darkness now rules, my child, but do not fear. Stop crying, pull the covers
up tight and listen closely to your Papa, I’m here.

You must guard your eyes so you no longer imagine you see these creatures
that haunt you.

And guard your ears lest you hear again whispering voices plotting evil
against you when it’s just the wind.

Guard your thoughts. Don’t let your mind wander into these disturbing
fantasies that keep you awake.

But most important, guard your toes because that is what they will bite off
first if you get out of this bed again tonight.

(Music: “Come Out and Play” by DesperateMeasurez Licensed under Creative
Commons By Attribution 3.0)

LADY BLUE

The Key to the Pearly Gates of Heaven

I cut out my heart and placed it in a stone tower surrounded by high walls. It was safely hidden inside a locked box; camouflaged by lucid dreams and harsh realities. Fiercely guarded by fear and shielded from the world, it could never be hurt. Time and apathy hardened my tower walls.

When I died, I prostrated my soul in front of Saint Peter’s gates and said, “Here! Here, I have the key!”

I proudly took out my box, coveted for over a lifetime, and withdrew my heart. It disintegrated in my hand; rotted from within through years of neglect.

NORVAL JOE

Though there wasn’t a guard by the door at the end of the alley Dergle hesitated before entering the dark passage. Long John whined and circled around Dergle’s legs to peer down the alley from a safer place.
“What’s the matter, boy? Don’t you think this is a good idea?”
Long John growled low in his throat. Regardless, Dergle eased into the shadows, his focus on the distant door.
A pile a garbage raised up, taking human shape.
“Garbage Man,” Dergle whispered.
“What brings you to our lair?” the punjent heap challenged.
“I’m one of you now. I belong here.”

LIZZIE

The wolf was a hungry beast. It prowled around, lurking in the shadows, its red eyes glimmering in the darkness. It fed on my anger.

“Keep it,” the man whispered.

I tried to stifle its eagerness, its thirst.

“Kill it, kill it,” the man whispered.

I couldn’t understand. Keep it or kill it? Keeping it would feed the hunger. Killing it would perpetuate the hatred. I too would’ve given in. I saw no way out.

The man grinned, his teeth as sharp as the wolf’s and he said “There’s your wolf. Guard it with your soul. It’ll keep you alive.”

PLANET Z

Joe played Guard at Clemson.
All-American, drafted second round by Miami.
The starter got hurt in pre-season, so Joe stepped up and shone.
Signed a multi-year contract for millions, spent it all on cars, houses, bitches, and drugs.
Then he got hurt, tried to make a comeback.
Signed with Chicago, played through the pain.
The team doctor gave him pills for that.
But they made him confused. “Joe The Joke” they called him when he blocked his own quarterback.
And got released
Then came the paternity suits, the foreclosures, and the bankruptcy.
Doorman. Bodyguard. Bouncer.
Whatever you need, he’ll do.

Crawdads

THIS IS THE 4,000TH EPISODE OF THIS PODCAST

I love crawdads.
Back in college, Ellen taught me how to eat crawdads, and I’ve been eating buckets of them ever since.
Nardo the cat loved the crawdad smell on my fingers, so I’d set aside a few tails to bring home to him.
He’d meow and beg and snap at the bits of crawdad I offered him.
“No more,” I’d say, and he’d lick my fingers for awhile.
This is my first crawdad season without him. And our two black cats don’t like crawdads.
I ate the entire bucket myself.
Except one, left atop the pile of empty shells.

Pieces Of Eight Medal – Talk Like A Pirate Day

Most pirates spend their downtime at their favorite watering-hole, dockside brothel, or the local jail awaiting trial.
On the other hand (assuming you have another hand, and not a hook), Walter the Pirate had always dreamed of winning an Olympic gold medal.
He was a pretty good windsurfer, and none of his shipmates could beat him at Ping Pong, but he was best at freestyle swimming.
But what national team would sponsor him?
France?
England?
They had bounties on his head.
Eventually, Somalia sponsored him. (Somalia loves pirates), but he was disqualified for having a dagger clenched between his teeth.

George The Pirate ‘s Diction

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He never learned proper pirate-speak.
So, he scrawled a cheat sheet on his arm, but the ink washed off every time he fell into the water.
George fell into the water a lot.
He wanted to get the cheat sheet tattooed on his arm, but no self-respecting tattoo artist would agree to do it.
“We do mermaids and anchors,” said the Tattoo Artist’s Guildmaster. “If you’re too stupid to remember the words, just say YARRRRRR! a lot, okay?”
George smiled and said AVAST!
“Landlubber,” grumbled the captain.

George The Pirate Disfigurement

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
All the other pirates had some sort of disfigurement, such as a pegleg, a hook hand, or an eyepatch.
George tried to wear a pegleg, but it’s much easier when you have an empty pant leg.
The same goes for hooks and empty shirtsleeves.
George flopped and stumbled around on the deck like a fish out of water, his peg and hook waving in the air helplessly, and the entire crew laughed.
The captain couldn’t bear to watch the spectacle, so he put on a second eyepatch and sighed.

George The Pirate Ransom

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
A family had refused to pay the ransom for a prisoner taken in a recent raid, so the captain shouted “Keel-haul the landlubber!”
Keel-hauling involves tying a rope to someone and dragging them under the boat, scraping them along razor-sharp barnacles that have grown on the hull.
George, who was in charge of the keel-hauling crew, ended up tangling the entire boat in ropes, and the prisoner escaped.
After the ropes were untangled, the captain hung George upside-down from the mast for a week.

George The Pirate Is Good With Numbers

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He was good with numbers though. He came from a long line of accountants and jewelers.
So, the captain sent George below decks and had him go through the plunder, appraising the booty and matching up pieces of eight.
George happily sorted through the rubies, diamonds, and emeralds, and he cataloged them in his book.
However, the doubloons were another matter.
“I’m not very good with jigsaw puzzles either, Captain,” he said, holding up the resulting mess.
It looked like a bust of the captain.
For once, he smiled.

Weekly Challenge #438 – Vice

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: VICE

We’ve got stories by:

The next 100 word stories weekly challenge is on the topic of GUARD…

Tinny!

DANNY

Incoherent ramblings rumble through my mind as Miami Vice, not the NBC show about busting sex rings, but the actual factory that makes industrial strength vices for automotive workshops around the United States closes its doors because it was outsourced to China. The hookers are totally fooled. They line up for blocks outside the doors because they assume the factory must be filled with johns lining up for last desperate blow jobs after being told they are fired. After all, this is the factory district. Not amused, NBC decides to reinstate Miami Vice after it was canceled indefinitely for retooling.

CHELSEA

Vice

I won’t deny it, there are things, many things that Indulge in. Nothing too hard core. No heavy drugs or gambling or anonymous sex. I’ve thankfully managed to keep away from anything that will kill me, quickly at least.

I do smoke and drink on occasion. I eat too much junk food, I spend too much time surfing the net and playing on line for it to be strictly normal.

But, at the end do the day, of all the things in indulge in, you my darling, are the one thing I just can’t get enough of. My sweetest Vice.

MUNSI

Vices

By Christopher Munroe

We all have vices.

The drink too many at the pub, the cigarette habit we can’t seem to overcome, an annual trip to Vegas that always winds up over its initial gambling budget…

…some, out of our mind on hallucinogens, might kill a stranger with our bare hands because it’s the only way we can achieve orgasm.

I, out of my mind on hallucinogens, kill strangers with my bare hands because it’s the only way I can achieve orgasm.

But that’s beside the point.

The point is, we all have vices.

So how can we judge the vices of others?

DIONYSIUS

Virtues and Vices

Yeah. Maybe you heard that sayin’, Virtues turns into vices and vices turns into virtues.

The others nodded.

Buck was a goddamn good dog.

Once I bought this mamacow, wild as a deer, right off the reservation I guess and damned if she didn’t come after me soon as I let her out. Buck jumped right in there ‘til she
chased him ‘round the truck ‘n’ high-tailed it.

He had one vice, chasin’ cars. He just didn’t know what to do with it when he finally caught one.

Hell if I know what that has to do with virtue, he laughed. Pass me ‘nother beer.

The Way to a Man’s Heart

The way to a man’s heart, my mother said, is through his vices. For years I assumed this meant sex, so I catered to Dick’s desires.

And we got married. But after eight years of marriage, I realized that his real vices were lying on the lounger, a beer in one hand, a cigarette in the other, a bag, box, or plate of fat on his fat belly, watching sports. The sex had been a test.

My mother’s wisdom still worked, though. I dutifully brought him beer, cigarettes, and fat. That man’s vices were the best way to his heart.

Resentment

You’d think an “omnipotent Being” wouldn’t have a problem with motivation,you know? You can do whatever you want!

I mean, in the beginning He had some big ideas , and you could look forward to fucking them up. And because He had those big plans, I was able to promote some major sins in those days. The Fall of Man — that was a day’s work. That was more than a vice! Nowadays you get vices at best.

Mass murders? Abuse of women and children? Slaughters of innocents? They don’t last.

Is it my fault? I can’t do nothin’ about procrastination.

Embarrassing

Well, said my mother, this is a story that embarrasses me.

My wife Susan and I were relaxing with her and my stepdad on their back porch. He’d just said how the hospital bill for his first daughter was only $52.

When Jim was born, the BlueCrossBlueShield paid everything — except we paid $57 to get him circumcised. When I took him back, Dr. Smith took a look and said, Well, we circumcised the wrong baby.

My stepdad asked her, Should you be talking about that in front of Susan?

I think she knows, said my mother. I can’t imagine why I never asked for my $57 back.

NORVAL JOE

Dergle stood in the dark surveying the kennels in his back yard. The girls in one to the right and the boys on the left. Twenty three dogs in all.
Some would consider it a vice to have so many dogs.
Not Dergle. To him a wiener dog was a symbol of strength, of power, of tenacity and endurance. The more wiener dogs one could own, the greater a persons capacity and influence.
He had struggled to use his powers for good only to be discounted and dismissed.
The world would rue the day Dergle turned his efforts to evil.

TOM

Well Defined Relationship Part 67

“Ouch,” said mother. One of the tiny spaceships was glowing.

“Engineering on my mark all power to the shields,” said the captain. “Helm, Vice Maneuver Zed 9 on ten.” “Data reverse the polarity on the trakyon stream.”

“Captain, the life force has released the hull. We are in freefall.”

Before the Duke could reach out the Enterprise was skimming above the mud. When the DeathStar fired up the death ray mother dropped it also. It landed in the mud popped three times and imploded.

“Best you give me that one back,” said the Duke holding up a tiny jump gate.

Grandpa’s Vice

Benny was not allowed to touch anything in his Grandfather’s shop, lots of really sharp stuff. It was clear from observing his uncles that no one questioned the old man’s word. The joke in the family was he brought you into the world, he could just as easily take you out. Benny thought it odd no one laughed at the joke. Knowing the need to impress a young mind with an adequate practical demonstration Grandpa took a piece of copper tubing put it in the iron vice and spun the handle crushing it.

“Here,” said grandpa, “you can touch this.”

Nearly a Saint

I don’t drink. I don’t smoke. I don’t gamble. I don’t covet wives, goods, or goats. I don’t do coffee, coke, or coco puffs. I really don’t have much in the way of vices, but if computer were on the list of Seven Deadly Sins, I would surely be hell-bound. It could be argued given my profession all things electronic are merely tools of the trade. Nope. I’ve seen the statues of the 7, the leering smile, gapping mouths, and wild eyes, that’s me.

“Bless me father for I have sinned it has been 24 hours since my last purchase

LIZZIE

The devil crossed the border, looked around and decided that that small village was the perfect place for a vacation. When he set out to find a hotel, he came across a smartly dressed man. He felt so tempted; a foot, just a foot, and the idiot would trip. He sneered. Then he came across a kid on his new bike; a foot, just a foot… He sneered. Finally, he came across an elderly lady. This was the one. A foot, just a foot, and… The devil was shocked and mortified. His pride was completely shattered. The elderly lady sneered.

ZACKMANN

“Bye dearest. I am off to Vice City Hardware because they have a sale new vices and just got a shipment in from Miami.” he said.

“You almost never do anything handy. Why do you need a vice?” she asks.

“Because dearest, all my writer friends tell me that everyone needs a vice. The Vice City Hardware flyer says they started naming them like Ikea does. The one I am buying is called Roy. I have been tracking the shipments of the advertised items. You know how important it is to follow good Add Vice and free flashlight with purchase.

SERENDIPITY

If I have any fault, it’s that I don’t have a vice.

I’ve plenty of other tools of the trade – chisels, hammers, clamps and saws, but I’ve never really had need of a vice and, to be honest, it’s never been a hindrance to my craft.

In fact, if I may boast – I’m the best in the trade.

You see, a good workman knows how to get the best from his tools, and knows exactly which tools are suited to the job.

Oh, you thought I was a carpenter?

No! – I’m master torturer for the Spanish Inquisition!

RICHARD

#1 – George’s Story – Part 70: Fate

George held the steering wheel in a vice-like grip, his body tense as he realised exactly where he was.

Breathing slowly, he let the horror, anger and finally, disappointment, wash over him as he stared at the building through the cracked windscreen.

Things had come full circle – fate, it seemed, still had games to play.

He faced a choice: did he play along, or get the hell out of there?

Grimly, he opened the door and climbed down from the vehicle; “Let’s see what fate has in store”, he muttered, walking purposefully towards the hospital where his journey had started.

#2 – Miami Vice

Pockett and Scrubbs were considered Miami’s finest, although you’d never have guessed it from seeing them. Armani suits, shades, designer stubble and fast cars were hardly the usual vice squad image, but then Pockett and Scrubbs were hardly your usual vice cops.

It was all a big game: the guns, the car chases, the violence and the action – the suits and sports cars just added a certain glamour and sex appeal to the job.

They lived for the job – an irony not lost on their colleagues… for Pockett and Scrubbs had their own consuming vice:

The job itself!

JEFFREY

Little Eva
by Jeffrey Fischer

In my high school, like many around the country, the principal and vice-principal played a form of good cop/bad cop. The principal was a cheerful, rotund man who always gave the impression that he liked his job and liked being around students. Clearly, he was an excellent actor. His reward upon retirement was to have the football stadium named after him. His vice-principal was a short, plump woman (sarcastically nicknamed “Little Eva” because of her size or “Eva Braun” because we thought she behaved like her namesake’s boyfriend) who seemed to delight in meting out punishment to students. One didn’t mind being called to the principal’s office; it was the vice-principal’s one wanted to avoid. Hers was a thankless job.

Hair Extensions
by Jeffrey Fischer

Ferguson, Missouri doesn’t seem like a wealthy place, but a number of troublemakers have been using the protests over Michael Brown’s death as cover for a multi-day looting spree. Ferguson doesn’t have enough native looters, so they’ve been importing looters from St. Louis and from as far away as Texas. Looters tend not to be very specific about what they take: sneakers and hair extensions seem to be popular items. I used to think these people were horrible opportunists, taking advantage of a difficult situation in order to steal from business owners and employers of locals. But then I started thinking. Barry Goldwater famously said, “Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice.” Although one might not think of looters as devotees of Goldwater, perhaps they’re just liberating merchandise from the shelves.

Joe
by Jeffrey Fischer

Candidate Obama mulled over the short list of candidates for his running mate. He wanted someone smart, someone who could help him with tough policy decisions. It would be good if the person had skills complementary to Obama’s. Someone from a large, in-play state would be helpful, as would having a solid, respected politician who would be a viable candidate when Obama’s terms were over. All these were important. However, one criterion stood above the rest: as the vice-president was a heartbeat away from being the Leader of the Free World, Obama needed someone who was enough of a bozo that not even the lunatic fringe of the country would think about evicting him from office.

And that’s how Joe Biden became Vice-President.

TURA

Vice
——–
The Viceroy of Khandhrastan pondered the petition that his steward found nailed to the palace gates. It said only, “O pinnacle of the age!” He was pleased to hear of his popularity.

The next week, his steward found another. It said, “Rejoice on the day of celebration!” He considered this must refer to the anniversary of his appointment, a week thence. He decided to arrange feasting and entertainments for the people.

On that day, his steward found a third, which said “Come, and be satisfied!”

The Viceroy ordered the palace gates opened.

The people stormed in and began the revolution.
——–
General Wei investigated reports concerning government officials and ladies of the night. After consulting eminent scholars of virtue, he instituted the Register of Vices, specifying for every rank of official the vices to be Forbidden, Disapproved, Approved, or Compulsory.

Among Compulsory vices was the fathering of children upon courtesans, the number of such required offspring being proportionate to the rank of the official. Approved vices included managing a house of ill repute, Disapproved was the zealous prosecution of Approved vices, and absolutely Forbidden was to divulge the contents of that Register, whose only copy was held by the Vice Minister.
——–

The Entrapper
by John Musico

Vice cop Burt was known among the perps as “The Entrapper”.
Like many cops, Burt’s marriage was going sour.
Meanwhile, criminals, many a time falsely busted by Burt, plotted their revenge. Nicki, an expert at insurance fraud, drafted a hefty life insurance policy for Burt’s wife. Malinda made calls, as a concerned neighbor, for escalating domestic unrest. Lefty took a set of prints from the site of Lefty’s most recent arrest by Burt in Lefty’s home, Burt’s prints. Finally, Blade the assassin knocked off Burt’s wife. He placed Burt’s prints on the murder weapon, a large knife from Burt’s kitchen…

PLANET Z

My two least favorite letters on the Scrabble board are V and C. Goddamned tiles!

Sure, they’re worth more than the usual points, but you can’t make a two-letter word out of them. I like two-letter words. Quick and dirty points.

You see, the two-letter words let you build across or down from a vowel, especially valuable when it’s a double or triple.

When I get two or three or four of those damned V or C tiles, and I can’t come up with a word like Vice or Vav, I’ll dump them.

And get them right back.

Goddamned tiles!