I’m a creep. No that isn’t a figure of speech I creep for a living. I go into theaters around the world and yell fire. The pay is good. I get to see amazing architecture. I met some interesting people just before they’re trampled under foot. The key to being a creep is timing and location. You always want to be on the opposite side of an obstruction. The moment seems to be during act three. Must folk are a bit drowsy. For a price I will come to your event and yell fire. Vatican City, you say. My pleasure.
Author: R.
Flash
When you build artificial intelligence on a supercomputer using fiber-optic and photonic processing, you can literally watch the flashes of genius sparkle across the backplane.
It’s different than the standard green and red lights of the legacy tech router rooms.
Here, you can feel glittering and shimmering ideas all around you, penetrating the darkness like diamonds poured across black velvet.
It’s even cooler when you’ve smoked some weed.
Wow… awesome…
I sit here in the datacenter, stoned out of my mind, surrounded by the waves of light.
The pattern shifts for a moment.
Then, my terminal flashes.
“DUDE. CONTACT BUZZ.”
Canapé and pole axes
Hello I’m Franz and I’m Fritz. Ve are da caterers to gods. Ya. We work for Vashtowvalittomer. Ya our god can beat up your god. Ya you bet ya. We make the melon balls and tiny hot dogs on toothpicks Ya and the jello molds with bugs, Ya Vashtowvalittomer he love them green on green finger food, Ya and he loves finger food to, das a litter caterers of the gods joke. What we doing for Ragnarok this year Franz? Oh it’s a Gotterdammerung goulash with real damer in it. Dem Damer are hard to catch Fritz. Ya Franz
Cause Of Death
My cousin died the other day.
We’d just been talking on the phone, telling each other about everything like we always do.
She was found alone in her chair at home.
Everyone in the family worried that it had been suicide.
Because if it had been suicide, she’d not get a proper burial in the family plot.
So, I confessed… it was me… I murdered her.
I refused bail and sat in jail, thinking of her.
The guards came to tell me the autopsy showed it wasn’t suicide. She’d had a heart attack, that’s all.
And they set me loose.
It’s a thin line between love and hate
It’s a thin line between love and hate.
How thin is it?
Well, are you familiar with John Waters’ mustache?
Yes, the guy who did Hairspray and Cecil B. Demented. You know that thin black mustache he has?
Yes? Good. Okay, well, it’s about that thin.
Oddly enough, it’s also rather thin in terms of how sparse it is some days.
Which is why John Waters has to fill it in with an eyeliner pencil sometimes.
Because when it comes to his movies, you either love them or you hate them.
And for convenience, his mustache makes a handy reference.
Weekly Challenge #282 – Run
Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.
This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eighty-Two, 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 Run
And we’ve got stories by:
Thomas
Tom
Chris Munroe
Zackmann
Chris the Nuclear Kid
TJ
Liadona Rau
Norval Joe
Daniel
Planet Z
… and a musical madness constructed by Steven the Nuclear Man!
And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.
THOMAS
The run led around the gnarly toe gap, through shin promontory, up ankle tattoo, behind white bulging calf, across knotty knee, and on to smooth thigh and the hidden valley. Hidden valley was closed now, so time passed as the run ceased moving and waited for repairs. Eventually, there was a change, and all runs were at a standstill. The evening came, and another run began at the south side of hidden valley this time. The run zigged and zagged through forbidden territory, and eventually came to a halt near the giant fingers between the valley and bruised knee.
##
It was his second dry run. This time, the solid propellant hadn’t combusted properly, and the burns on his backside hadn’t yet healed. He had not computed the mass flux and pressure of the combustion gases generated as a function of the surface area and burn rate, so Todd sautéed most of the skin on his behind and caused a fire, burning most of the trees and out-buildings on his Uncle Kenny’s farm. He’d try again, and had two more weeks at science camp before he had to get back home to Austin and the first day of middle school.
TOM
I run. The dust is gaining. It’s dark. Which way to the river? I stop hearing the screaming. If I stop I will… I go down hard. Was it pole or the back of a car, I can’t tell. How could it get darker? I get up. I try to run. Moving is harder, breathing is harder. Around my neck my camera holds the Pulitzer Prize image. My sister will accept that prize for me. It is black and I am running. An NYFD officer found me on the 2rd day. He can’t save me but he saves my camera.
CHRIS
You killed her, and didn’t know what to do, so you ran. And you kept running.
You fled town, changed your name and moved halfway across the country, but even then your past was right behind you. You couldn’t stop looking over your shoulder, couldn’t stop running.
It consumed you, became your whole life, your whole self. Running…
Eventually you even ran the Boston marathon. Did yourself proud, you came in fifth overall.
When the TV coverage went out, somebody from your old life recognized you. You were arrested three days later.
Never lose track of what you’re running from.
ZACKMANN
“Did we run the tests on the new product?” the boss asked. “Our new scientist promised no animal testing.” answered Chuck “Is that why I am no longer hearing the protesters?” said the boss. “I am a little worried that he is not a humanist and doesn’t considered the protesters animals but also a not a humanitarian.” Boss says “You sound crazy. Doctor did you do the clinical tests for the new medication?” “yes it was wonderful seeing the allergic rations on those peasants. I mean protesters” “Boss, I so told you not to hire someone calling himself Doctor Despicable ”
CHRIS THE NUCLEAR KID
“Red light!” Tom shouted. I, along with five others, stop. A kid named Joe stumbles. “Joe! Your out!” shouted Tom.
“Aw, shucks!” Joe said. He walked over to the side where the others who lost stood.
“Green light!” Tom shouted. I ran. “Yellow light!” ”Red light!” Tom shouted. I stopped. “Purple light!” Tom shouted. John and Pete ran. “John, Pete… You’re out!” Tom Shouted.
It was just me and Jacob. “Green light!” Tom Shouted. We ran, Jacob taking the lead. But not for long. In a sudden burst of speed I ran past him, Tom, and the finish.
I won.
TJ
OK, so I’ve taken all these surveys asking me for favorite movies,
favorite vacations, favorite shades of green, when is this annoying
Facebook survey going to turn into actual dating? *beep* Emily is
interested in you! Oh she is, is she? Emily is a 34-year-old bartender
who loves to laugh and reads Proust… well, now I’m laughing… Emily
is also into extreme sports, and has been catatonic since a traumatic
bungee incident in 2007. She enjoys watching “Weekend at Bernie’s,” test
patterns, and anything that’s put in front of her. So that would be a
run. Run like the wind.
LIADONA
Heel toe. Heel toe. Heel toe.
The mantra burned itself into her head.
Heel toe. Heel toe.
Over and over as she pushed herself further than she had ever pushed before. This time, however, she wasn’t racing herself or a friend. No, this time she was racing Gaia. Mother was mad and she was letting everyone know.
Heel toe. Heel toe.
“Just focus on the mantra and not where the path leads and maybe, just maybe, I can make Athena’s temple. Sanctuary.” Iona kept running, passing mossy rocks and trees.
Then a flash.
Lightning moves faster than a runner it seems.
NORVAL JOE
The Escalade drove through suburban neighborhoods and into the countryside.
Esmerelda Filch stared at Fly Paper Boy as if she expected him to speak. When he didn’t, she slid over close to him. As she did her skirt hiked up, exposing much of her thighs.
Fly Paper Boy stared, wide eyed.
“Do you find me attractive?” she asked in a husky voice.
“You’re as old as my mother,” he replied.
“Do you love your mother?” she asked and winked.
“Yeah, but not like that,” he exclaimed. He knew he should run, but was afraid to jump from the moving SUV.
DANIEL
“Run.” It licked its lips.
I didn’t hesitate, not that I stood a chance. Why did I think I was ready to summon a demon? Behind me, I could feel the rupture in reality as it pierced my feeble containment circle.
Running through the outer doorway, I felt a surge of hope – my destination was within view. I should’ve known better. Mere seconds from the church door, I slammed into an invisible wall.
Dazed, I looked around to see the fires of Hell on all sides. The demon stood before me. “This is how you create a summoning circle, child.”
PLANET Z
Long ago, sports were “clean” of drugs and implants.
But over time, the line between clean and cheating got blurry.
Those medicines an athlete used for recovering from injury made them faster and stronger.
A pitcher with a robotic arm.
A blind racecar driver with camera eyes.
A Navy punter stepped on a land mine. New Cyberlegs.
They said it was discrimination.
And the courts agreed.
Pretty soon, the performance enhancement manufacturers got into the consumer markets.
Run faster.
Play longer.
Hit harder.
What a bunch of crap.
Besides, I’ve got ballet tickets.
Swan lake, with human-swan hybrids.
Wanna go?
The Boxer
Take a deep breath.
Smell the gym.
It’s a different smell than anywhere else.
Get on the scale.
Get in the ring.
Get these gloves on.
Now open your mouth so we can swab your cheek and put in this mouthguard.
What’s the swab for? Painkillers?
No. It’s for DNA.
The league wants us to clone you.
That way, your opponent can have you as a sparring partner to train against.
And you can have him.
That way, you’ll both be ready and give a good fight.
Better than the last one, where you got your ass killed.
Literally.
*DING*
What The Heck?
Last night I was typing in back room, looked up to the curtain behind the monitor. In the middle was this brown webby thing. I think how cute a frog. How the hell is it hanging on to the curtain ….. A BAT. God damn oh Oh OH. He flies straight at my head, swooshes over and across the room. All the muscle in my arm and back pulled inward, felt like I got hit with a magneto burst. I am totally freaking out, major fear factor going down here. I open the front door and he jets out. DDDDDamm.
Turning Ten
My son turns ten today.
We’re going to have a big party for him: clowns, bouncy house, his friends, so many presents, and a cake.
Then, when the party’s over, the leasing company will come by to pick him up.
Most parents choose up the option to buy, but we’ve been wanting another baby, so we’re sending this one back.
This time, we’ll just do a two-year lease. Avoid those Terrible Twos, that whole First Day Of School thing.
I don’t mind changing diapers, really.
Everything’s up in the attic, but we’ll get it later.
Oh, and Happy Birthday, son!
Oh Mr. Chomsky you say the cutest things.
We here at the Paris Hilton Academy for Wayward Girl are proud to announce a new course entitled: Desperately Ostentatious and Disconnected. It is open to all 4th year women will a GPA above 1.1. It is the on going goal of PHAWG to make society fit for a new wave of the novo ultra wealth women. To this end during this class you will be paired with a tree hanging liberal whom you will win over to your worldview with the innate charms you will cultivate in this course. This class may be taken six times for credit.