Author: R.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Five, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was The Meaning Of Life.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

Chris Munroe
Zackmann
Thomas
Jessi
Botgirl
Tura
Scott V
Chris the Nuclear Kid
Lizzie Gudkov
Sail2Byzantium
Taralyn
Jeff Hema
WareCats
Buttermilk
Tom
Guy
Bonchance
RedGoddess/TalkWithMarie
Pamela
Danny Dwyer
Cliff
Norval Joe
Steven The Nuclear Man
TREED
Planet Z

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

The more people see this on Google Plus, Facebook, and Twitter – the more explaining you’ll have to do with your loved ones, coworkers, and parole officers.

---

Munsi

The Meaning of Life

Life’s what happens when you’re making other plans.

Tho’ in my case, I didn’t make plans.

I didn’t have time to, between my day job, the writing, the comedy projects and endless drinks with friends. There was always too much going on to stop, focus and make plans.

Does that make my life less meaningful?

The meaning of a life is shown in what you choose to focus on, but I’ve been so unfocused…

So I’ll put it to you: what does this make the meaning of my life? I’d love to ponder it, but I have shit to do.

Zackmann

Her house looked like that movie scene in which bad guys torn the place apart.
She said “Zack, What are you doing?”
“I am looking for the mean of life.” he replied.
“How many times do I have to tell you that even though I work on Sunday morning there is no reason why you cant go to church yourself.”
“You dont understand.”
“Try me”she said
“I borrowed Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life DVD from the local library. If I dont find it, I must pay a late fee and replacement cost as well as a restocking charge.”

Thomas

He strove to be the meanest, stingiest, grouchiest, smelliest, most dreadful man in the group. He hated groups, and this group of strict conservatives, and all it stood for, irritated him to the point of piercing a hole through his stomach with his own, self-generated brew of stomach acid, thus threatening his life and causing him untold pain–as if he was shot through his middle with a burning bowling ball. He joined and tried to keep his words and opinions to himself, but manners and smell forced the group to disband within minutes of the opening of the meeting.

##

Professor T continued work on her latest book, The Meaning of Life. The Professor taught philosophy 101 and Beginning Zen Archery at the local community college. An eccentric woman, The Professor was convinced that her book would answer all the questions that people had about the true meaning of life. The first few chapters contained hundreds of equations and logic diagrams, totally incomprehensible to anyone that attempted to slog through it. The balance of her book was filled with crude drawings and diagrams, interspersed with obscene caricatures. The professor’s work ultimately concluded that the Meaning of Life was continually reductive.

Jessi

Demeaning of Life, by Jessi Firethorn (with apologies to Cole Porter)

Cole had the right idea, I thought, forking the gooey mass on the half-shell. Life’s about the experiment. When Gabriel blows that horn, this prodigal will head home having spent all ten talents, made blue lagoons of life’s lemons, and battle-rammed every door that got in my way! These delicacies are touted to boost the heart, brain and libido, and this oyster is mine.

Slurp. Swallow. Well, almost swallow. All 50 million Frenchmen were wrong. This is disgusting. This is detestable. Return these to the bay, please, and check that off de-list.

Now, who knows how to dance the Beguine?

Tura

I saw a sage, who declared to the crowd about him, “Life has no meaning!” And a second nearby shouted to his admirers, “That life has no meaning, IS its meaning!” And likewise a third preached, “Life has only the meaning you give it!” And I marvelled that each group looked fiercely upon the others, and would come to blows.

So I shouted, “Pshaw! One cannot insert so much as a cigarette paper between your beliefs!” And they united as brothers to beat me and drive me away, then returned to their strife.

That was the meaning of their lives.

Scott

Stanley lived quietly in the cheap suit his mother bought him as a graduation present. He spent his evenings carefully arranging his turnips in their prescribed order on the bric-a-brac shelf. He had carved them in occupational therapy, carefully contouring the surface of each to resemble a family member. He found the taproot useful to serve as the tails of kittens he wished to own. Stanley didn’t work. He’d made his money dumping buckets of boner pills into the inboxes of the unsuspecting. Squishing the turnip head of his mother made it all worthwhile.

Chris

(No Text Sent)

Lizzie

“What is the meaning of life, dear?” he asked with a naughty look on his face. “Is it the two of us touching each other, up and down?”

She had a severe cold and was certainly not geographically motivated.

“The meaning of life?”

He nodded enthusiastically.

“Well, it’s having a sweet hot chocolate, and a bitter chocolate for when I need to bite my tongue,” she said crisply.

“What about me?” he pleaded.

“You don’t taste like chocolate. You taste like… damped cereals.”

“Damped cereals?!” he asked.

To which she rolled her eyes and said, “Ok, pass the bitter chocolate.”

Sail2Byzantium

I found the crack in the floorboards searching for Barbie in the dark. A tiny pillar of light seeped through it. I examined the crack, poking my finger in, but I had to look. At first, it was just flickers of light with the sound of glass clinking on glass. Odd smells emanated from below like a cross between catbox and bad eggs.

A man in a mask stood beneath me at a table. The mask came off and it was Daddy. Relieved, I tucked myself again. But, one night a few weeks later, the lab exploded beneath me.

TaraLyn

I lean back on the rock ledge and dangle my feet into the cool water. The morning sun slowly comes around the corner and caresses my body. I pick up my book and open it to the bookmark. It is so quiet, all I hear is the water smoothing out the bank. I smell the leaves on the ground…the crisp air relaxes me as my hair lifts off my shoulder floating on the breeze. I watch ducks float by and think..I bet they are good friends. My eyes focus on the page and read, This is the meaning of life…..

Jeff

It was 5 am when my cellphone vibrated. I opened my eyes instantly.

« He bought the farm, call mum ».

This is the second time I’ve had to go through this predicament. The first time I was 7 years old.

I still react the same way, I’m never affected by the death of a family member but by the tears my relatives drop.

Undaunted, I woke up an hour later and left the house for my job interview .

I felt just OK. Am I turning into Dexter? No, perish the thought!

People come and go, that’s the way the cookie crumbles.

WareCats

When we are little children we never wonder about “what is the meaning of life?”

Then we grow to our teens years and wonder “what is this life for?”
In our twenty’s we believe it is all about working, schooling and “how to get ahead in life.”

Through out our adult life we ponder “what have I done that is worthwhile in my life?”

The golden years hit and there you are holding that brand new grandchild in your arms.
It is then that you realize you have found that this is the true “meaning of life.”

Buttermilk

Row: Said three times for emphasis, it’s a call to action. Life’s not a spectator’s sport. YOUR boat: You can’t row someone else’s. Stop trying. Gently: Don’t be so hard on yourself. Try to take it easy. DOWN the stream: Go with the flow. The stream knows where it’s going. Merrily: Said four times for effect. Stop taking yourself so seriously, and try to have some fun! Life is but a dream: This one or any other is nothing but a thinly veiled illusion. So many chase the Meaning of Life, but it turns out we learned it as kids.

Tom

Your warm, fed, no one messes with your space, you don’t even need to breath. Then some jerk with forceps grabs your head, turns you up side down, and slaps you on the ass. You’re the smallest kid on the playground. The bigger kids give you a ration of shit. As you move from peer group to peer group the amount of unkind acts pile to the heavens. Your boss, ex-wife, and anyone having a bad day make sure you will have a bad day. Somehow the well of human kindness springs eternal in spite of the meaning of life.

Guy David

They where a paper clip company. When they created the paper clip making robot, they instilled in him a sense of the importance of making paper clips. Paper clip making became his reason for being. The presentation went well. They turned him on, and he sipped from a pile of previously prepared materials, quickly converting them to paper clips, then he run out of materials. First, the meeting room table went. The technicians tried to shut him off but he converted them as well, then he stormed through the building converting everything and everyone, then he went for the exit.

Bonchance

In times we experience some turmoil and strife,
we may find ourselves asking the meaning of life.
Some of us in youth might seek elders for advise,
perhaps with age we’ll get an answer that is wise.
So once in that moment I went to my mentor
asking the old man what we were put on this earth for.
Grandfather told me stories of things he had been through,
of wonderful people and those also who were cruel.
Boy, you don’t have to be a genius or even very clever,
the answer is quite simple, you just need to endeavor.

Botgirl

“Oh my god, he’s right!” she said out of nowhere from across the bed. “Life IS getting meaner.”

“Who’s right?” I mumbled, half asleep. Definitely not ready for the morning after.

“I think his name is Monty something,” she said.

I had the same kind of fuzzy memory of her name, but it didn’t seem an appropriate time to bring it up.

“Anyway, Natasha loaned me his movie yesterday and I just figured out what the title means.”

I had to ask.

“The Meaning of Life,” she said.

Yeah. I went home with the waitress. Again. Damn you Warren Zevon.

RedGoddess

There are many questions that will haunt mankind for generations to come. Who am I will top the list. What is love is another and of course the meaning of life will be philosophical icing. In this era of TV gurus, we have many masters to turn to, from Oprah to Chopra but we’re still puzzled by the contradictions. Sadly, we’re left with more questions than answers. I wonder when one is economically drained, deprived, desperate and depressed, is that a priority? Whatever motivates one to get out of bed daily, will ultimately reveal how they live through the meanings.

Pamela

Why?

I still hated New York, but with half of the city’s scum frightened to be alone in the alleys, I couldn’t quit.

Before he lost consciousness, one asked me, “Why?”

I was glad he couldn’t see my face because it was blank. I had no answer. The next several nights, I wandered, thinking. The risk, the late nights, no social life.

Then: a muffled plea, scuffling feet. A block. An alley. A woman, a man, a purse.

And me.

And the answer. It was simple and, as I moved her away from the mess, rewarded by two words: thank you.

Danny

My fictional son and I were making our escape from my violent non-fictional ex-wife across the Arizona desert on the back of a donkey named “Meatloaf Flying Spaceship.” I asked aloud, “What is the meaning of life?” Meatloaf responded, which left me stunned, I had no idea the donkey could speak. “Life would be more meaningful if you guys would get your fat asses off my back so I could breathe.” We quickly obliged. ”I think all of our lives will have more meaning if we just keep fleeing from your crazy ex-wife.” After spotting my ex-wife in the distance, I quickly agreed.

Cliff

Marie’s Quest

I found it.
-Found what?
The meaning of life.
-Oh, really? Fortune cookie or box of cracker jacks?
Neither! I did the pilgrimage and found the guru. He’s lived alone in a cave for thirty years meditating on it.
-Ok, I’ll bite. What did he say.
Sex.
-Sex?
Yep. Wild passionate sex.
-Really?
That’s right.
-A guy who’s been alone in a cave for years thinks sex is the meaning of life. Did he tell you this or show you?
Well, both. Why?
-Oh, Marie.
Do you think he was taking advantage of me?
-It’s clown college all over again.

Norval Joe

Owen looked from his uncle to Cindy’s grandfather and beyond to the unknown woman brooding by the door.
“I’m engaged to Cindy?” he asked. “When were you going to tell me?”
“Owen,” The dark woman said, “My name is Shareeka. I’m the wizardess who hid you here. You and Cindy must be presented, together, on her 16th birthday, or all our effort, indeed your very lives, would have been without meaning.”
“So,” Owen said. “We have to find where the princess is hidden, get her, and get back by her birthday?”
“That’s right, Owen,” Shareeka said. “You have 42 days.”

Steven the Nuclear Man

Chasing Someone with Dynamite

“Father, what is the meaning of life?”

He sat back on his bench, running a hand through his thinning hair.

He knew.

He knew the touch of her hair and hands on his back. He knew the glow
of her skin in morning sunlight, the spice smell of her sweat.

The way the universe hid inside her eyes when she said she loved him.

“It is,” he lied through the screen, “to love the Lord God with all
our heart, all our mind, and all our soul.”

Father Adam closed the panel, sat back, and remembered Lilith as he wept.

TREED

Bob and Dave, the Existentialism Experiment

“The meaning of life?”

“Yes, Bob, the meaning of life.”

“Well, Dave, you contemplating the meaning of life is, well, quite frightening.”

“Frightening?”

“Yep. Means you are actually Thinking. A scary though I know not of, Dave.”

“Bob.”

“Dave.”

“You ended that sentence with a preposition.”

“Why Dave, I did not know you knew what that was.”

“Not funny, Bob.”

“I’m sorry, Dave.”

“Now, back to the point.”

“Which is…?”

“The meaning of Life.”

“I don’t actually have an answer for you, Dave, but I do have the answer to Life the universe and everything.”

“Really? What is it?”

“42”

Planet Z

The meaning of Life?
It’s just fucking cereal.
There’s no hidden messages in there at all, no ulterior motives.
If you pour it out on the table, it’s not going to resolve any deep mysteries of the universe.
Just put it in a goddamned bowl, pour some milk over it, and eat it.
I don’t care if Mikey likes it or not.
Fuck Mikey.
All that matters is you and this bowl of cereal.
Eating it won’t make you complete… it’s just a nutritious part of a complete breakfast.
Quit making such a big deal.
And pass the orange juice

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Four, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

The topic this week was Crack.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

Jessi Firethorn
Tom
Thomas
Lizzie Gudkov
Tura
Chris Munroe
Zak Claxton
Jeff Hema
Buttermilk
Steven The Nuclear Man
Zackmann
Bonchance
Guy
Botgirl
Danny Dwyer
Cliff/Uncle Monster
RedGoddess/TalkWithMarie
Norval Joe
TJ
TREED
Planet Z

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

The more people see this on Google Plus, Facebook, and Twitter – the more explaining you’ll have to do with your loved ones, coworkers, and parole officers.

---

JESSI

CRACK IS
WHACK

The storm sirens had been going off all night. The wind had been gusting up to 50mph for a couple of hours. Drenched and shivering, I was throwing newspapers, envying these who had jobs that allowed them to sleep until daylight.

“Crack.”

The sound above me was not loud, but it was distinct and ominous. One of these 1942 shelterbelt tree branches was about to come crashing down, but which one? Which way should I run? I froze.

“Whack.”

As the lights blurred and the pain came, I wondered if they would tip for the paper on the porch.

TOM

A CODE OF HONOR

Crack. It sounded like a cow’s rib getting hit with a baseball bat. She dropped to the floor of the kitchen. I always thought Timmy was a dick, but stepping purposely on that tiny crack in the driveway was just plain cold. Mrs. Franks wasn’t the nicest mom on the block but you just don’t break your mother’s back, thus the sing song rhyme. There was only one thing the kids could do to set things right. We bury him in the ground up to his head and pour honey over it and let the fire ant go to town

THOMAS

There was a crack in the fabric of time. Johnny had been putzing around with the equipment in his dad’s workshop, and he cobbled together a device made up of three, usually independent devices.
After he put power to the main unit, he heard an enormous roar, and when he looked out the window he saw a jagged tear in the horizon, and each half of the panorama fell away to reveal a deep, black rift,
seemingly empty and going on to infinity. He examined it more closely with his telescope, and noticed some licorice jellybeans.

##

Pouring the glass of vodka, she popped Zoloft, and morphine, and stirred in an ounce of elixir of turpin hydrate; neat. A couple of lines of Bolivian marching powder off the tub’s shelf, then a
large rock of crack in her pipe, taking off the edge. She ran scales, warming her voice for the concert, and started to feel better. She spun around a few times to the left, to the right, then sank
beneath the bath water. The last thing she saw before she drew her last breath was the bottom of the rubber duck floating above her head.

LIZZIE

Special Valentine Special

Valentine’s Day is such a chocolaty day. It starts with kisses and… chocolates obviously. There are “I love yous” Forever-and-Ever and Never. Candle light romantic dinners and kisses and… chocolates, of course. A nice piece of jewelry in a velvety box magically opens way for more kisses and more “I love yous”, while the romantic candle burns lethargically. I have nothing against Valentine’s Day, mind you. Cuddly arms waiting, drab kisses and velvety forevers are just so special. Never will come back tomorrow in harsh tones of reality. But, yes, Valentine was great, thank you for asking.

and…

(No text sent – check her site)

TURA

The crack of doom shall swallow up this world
And all that is upon it be destroyed
Resolved into– yes, what?

Uncle, if this is a sonnet, you’ll never fit it into 100 words at that rate.

Tish, attention span of young people these days… Ok, the first quatrain says the world will end, the second lists some ways it could happen, the third says we’d better get to the stars before it does, and the couplet ties a Shakespearean ribbon on it. Howzat?

But now it isn’t a poem!

This conversation’s just 100 words though. I’ll send it instead!

(And for anyone who can stretch to reading 113 words, the whole sonnet is at turabrez.blogspot.com)

MUNSI MUNSI!

CRACK

If I understand correctly, people with cancer cook meth.

Right?

I mean, that dude from that show that one time had cancer and he cooked meth like crazy! By the end of the second season the cancer was in full remission.

I don’t completely understand what the connection between the two is, I’m not a doctor, but it was pretty clear.

Cooking and selling meth cures cancer.

I think that’s how it works, anyway. There could be something I’m missing…

But it’s all very abstract. I don’t have cancer.

I just have a lingering cold.

So: Wanna buy some crack?

ZAK

One year, our company rented a white van to get around Vegas during the trade show, figuring it would be cheaper than taking cabs everywhere.

Arriving in the morning, we parked in the convention center lot and went in to do our business-like schmoozing and bullshitting that one does at a show. That evening, we walked out to find that about 50 identical white vans were parked in a row, and none of us could recall exactly where we’d parked, nor identify any distinguishing features of our particular van.

We all took cabs back to Caesar’s Palace.

JEFF HEMA

SCOLDING

‘We are not just hanging out here. We have aims to reach, buddy! Last time you had an A was at the first semester.’

‘I am a tough cookie but I can’t help it, the exam was tougher than me. I will catch up teacher.’

‘That’s because you have tunnel vision toward my explanations.’

We can tell since that day that he saw the light. He was convinced that only hard work and discipline are keys to success.

The whole incident happened when he got the worst grade in class, so a wake-up call was necessary.

BUTTERMILK

Alone. wandering a wasteland, dragging my heavy, frozen heart through the dry sand. The thick layer of ice around it, a necessary precaution against the brutal mutilation it had endured. I thought I would never be so vulnerable again. I was a strong stoic, heaving my burden across the desolate landscape. I went to see the sacrifice everyone was so enthralled with. There, a gorgeous beacon of light stood by the entrance, offering guidance and direction. You spoke truth to me, and i heard the groaning of the ice around my heart just before it shattered with a loud CRACK!!!

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

”That woman was very nice. You were very polite to that woman.” I am talking to myself. Just to keep my social skills in practice. There are few visitors since the highway moved.

I glance out the window to the motel, to her room. “You shared supper with her. Maybe you really were… sexually interested.”

“No!” I yell as I hear the woman scream down below.

“Oh God, Mother,” I yell, running for the motel, “Oh God Mother, what have you done?” I step on every crevice in the sidewalk, but I know Mother will never, never, leave me alone.

ZACKMANN

Hey, did you see that news article that Paul Cooley guy posted about the underbelly of The Street? Apparently cookie dough is to puppets what crack is to humans. Like many of our favorite shows of childhood there was an unknown drug problem behind the scenes. Cookie Monster often came on set so toasted on cookie dough that he couldn’t complete a sentence in proper English. Do you you think they started only letting Cookie eat fresh produce on screen because the network cared about children’s health? So what do you know, it wasn’t George Lucas who ruined your childhood.

“Oh my, Nicky, you look like you look like you got the stuffing beat out of you.”
“Oh Rod, I couldn’t tell who it was. It was so dark but when he demanded my wallet he sounded so much like Ernie”
“Let me stitch you up before you make a mess.”
“Rod it must have gotten really bad for a Street puppet to come all the way to Avenue Q”
“Nicky that is what happens to a neighborhood after cookie dough additions. I don’t know how we can ever feel safe in
this city again. I hate the Street Puppets”

BONCHANCE

CRACK!

The US economy was finally starting to rebound thanks to another influx of the yuan. The year was 2046. The United States was no longer involved in any wars of any kind. They forfeited their role as the world police. George was going over the current events. He needed to determine the signature color of the day, in support of the new government initiative that started this month. George half heard the restaurant clown on the television commercial say “and remember boys n girls about our limited time deal, you get a free side of McCrack with every meal!”

GUY DAVID

A crack opened at the edge of the universe. I took out the key and closed it since that’s what I do. I track the cracks and close them with a matching key. I have a key for every crack. Once I close the crack I sniff the vacuum of space for another one. There is always another one. My job is never done. The universe is not merely curved, it’s cracked. Here – I can smell another one. Guess I have my work cracked out for me. Someone managed to hinder another part of this universe. Won’t they ever learn?

BOTGIRL

NEWT ON CRACK

Crack.
“Ouch!”
Crack.
“I want you stop, goddamn it!”
Crack.
“How can I remember the safe word if you dont let . . .”
Crack.
I’m warning you. I’m a fucking attorney. I will sue your . . .”
Crack. Crack.
Sorry. I was joking. You know I could never let this go public. My wife. My constituents. My . . .”
CRACK.
“Ow!”
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.
“Shit. Is that blood running down my back? You could scar me permanantly. What if some papparazi shoots me on the beach?”
CRACK.
“Oh my god. Oh my god! What was that fucking safe word?”
CCCCCCRRRRRAAAAACCCCCKKKKK!
“Jesus H. Christ!”
“Finally,” she said.

DANNY

Bubbles, the high class prostitute, back from Holland and her insane search for the Hollish, is back in her upper east side condo in Manhattan. Relaxing in bed nude, with her statuesque boyfriend John, she grinds up crack cocaine, then snorts it out of the crack of John’s ass. Bubbles states, “I can’t believe there are no Hollish people in Holland, just all of these Dutch.” John responds, “I can’t believe you keep snorting crack cocaine out of my ass after what happened to Whitney Houston.” “Your right, John,” states Bubbles, as she sprinkles the crack into a joint instead.

CLIFF/UNCLEMONSTER

TAKING LIBERTY

I used to think being obsessive compulsive helped me be a better thief. After all, I never ever left fingerprints.
If I break in, I fix it on the way out. I leave NO evidence.

The last job I did was in Philadelphia. It went so smoothly that I had time to see the local sights. Betsy Ross’s house. Independence hall. Then I saw it. The crack. I knew I had to fix it. I had to. I really have no choice. Which is a problem. How am I going to get a one ton bell back to my garage?

REDGODDESS

She’s dubbed the golden voice of her generation. Her songs make you feel emotions you thought were buried deeper than your heart. This rag to riches diva found herself seduced by the traps of hollywood fame. She had access to all chemicals with a price tag. She married and divorced a bad boy, the epitome of crackish. In spite of her demons, she remained beloved by fans pulling for her. Countless failed rehab attempts, she became disillusioned by sustained wealth to declare “crack is whack” to the media personalities, who judged yet admired her as another “gone too soon” celebrity.

NORVAL JOE

Owen peered through a crack in the door.
His uncle spoke with Cindy’s grandfather and a slender, dark haired woman, dressed entirely in black.
“Owen,” Uncle Fleck called. “Get out here.”
“Yes, sir,” Owen said, stepping through the doorway.
“Not much time, boy,” Fleck said. “Listen. We’ve been hiding you here from an evil wizard. You’re a prince, heir to the throne.”
“Ummm,” Owen said unsure what to say.
“Turns out, your friend Cindy is a princess and heir to a throne of her own,” Fleck continued. “You two were betrothed as babies. Problem is, the evil wizard has her.”

TJ

The MUSEUM of FAMILY HISTORY – GOING UP

We picked our way through to what turned out to be a stairwell although
it resembled nothing so much as a tunnel defined by old dingy clothes
and piles of garbage. If the second floor had a ceiling it wasn’t in
evidence, although it certainly wasn’t open to the sky. But as we left
the main floor I couldn’t shake the impression that we weren’t alone
in Grandma’s house. And what she referred to as Uncle Jake’s
collection of 83 jelly jar glasses – some with jelly still in ‘em!
she said – wasn’t the only thing creeping me out any more.

The MUSEUM of FAMILY HISTORY – DOLLIES

The second floor clutter was more organized, placed when Grandpa was
able to get around up there more easily. An inventor, he held onto
anything that might be useful. But what use was a room lined floor to
ceiling with shelves of creepy baby doll heads? The limbs had been
configured along a towering armature, hundreds of cracked and naked
plastic doll limbs arranged so as the door was opened, a ball rolled
down along a track among them and they sprang unnervingly to life,
waving about and what was worse, the eyes in the heads flickered open
and shut.

TREED

“OH! BOB!”

“Oh geez. What is it now Dave?”

“LOOK!”

“What, Dave? Look at what?”

“I can’t describe this, Bob. You just have to look for yourself. But, HURRY!”

“Dave, I have told you, things that get you this excited tend to cause me some kind of pain. Physical, mental, emotional, psychic pain.”

“But Bob!”

“Don’t push it Dave.”

“OK, but can I tell you something?”

“Sure, Dave.”

“Whitney Houston’s right.”

“What do you mean Dave?”

“Crack is whack.”

“What?”

“You know that plumber that moved in across the street?”

“Oh, no.”

“Yep. Seems there’s a new moon a risin’.”

PLANET Z

CHIEF

The chief tapped me and my partner.

“Go get him,” he said. “Now.”

We grabbed the kid out of a restaurant on Main Street.

He didn’t resist.

Chief took one look at him, smirked: “Put him in the hole.”

So, we put him in the special isolation cell we’ve got in the basement of the station.

The chief collected up keys. “This one’s mine.”

He won’t let anyone down there to check on the kid.

It’s been a week.

“I don’t tell you how to raise your kids,” he growled.

He went back into the basement.

And locked the door.