Author: R.

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 Seventy-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 Dreams

How about voting for your favorites?

Too bad. “The Poll Cannot Be Created” is back!

Gideon
Laina Ash
Zackmann
Tom
TJ Aman
Philip “Norval Joe” Carroll
Daniel W.
Planet Z

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

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We’re gonna try something new this week… yes, the Weekly Challengers are going to send in topic suggestions, but how about all you folks out there in the global Interwebs join in the topic-suggesting process by posting your topic suggestions in the comments!

(One of these days, SOMEONE will pot a comment… well, besides TJ checking in from the Big ND.)

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Gideon

I have a unique ability – I can predict when changes will occur in my life.

Normally I do not remember my dreams but there are times when I will have a series of vivid, unrelated dreams that stay with me. After six months or so, when the dreams have been long forgotten, events will happen in my life that bring the dreams back to life. The dreams become real. Like déjà vu.

That déjà vu is always followed by a momentous change in my life.
Like the time three months ago when I dreamt I was a writer.
Oh. Shit.

……….

we fly
in the heavens
swooping
wingtip to wingtip
seeking fantasies
together
exploring
the visceral
the erotic
the mundane
clouds of joy
joined by our dreams

we glide
relishing
our shared collection
building the
clouds higher
stronger
glorious
pampering our love

we soar
the moist coolness
of the clouds
envelops us
making it real

then

the caged guinea pigs
of our minds
spin their wheels
furiously
spreading away
the wisps of cloud

we fall
reaching out
grasping in vain
passing our creations
quickly disappearing
clouds of love

we land
safely
two feet on solid ground
our dreams
a faint memory

Elaine

She woke with a cold sweat hoping it was not a dream.

It was all so real, the sight of him smiling, so endearing, so loving.

She could have sworn she felt the warmth of his skin.

The touch of his lips against hers.

Him wrapping his arms around her, him breathing softly her favorite words “Hey Baby..” as she nuzzled into him, the safeness she can never forget.

Yet looking upon his made up side of her bed and the coldness of his ring on the necklace on her chest, she knew this dream was still her nightmare instead…

Zackmann

Peoples of Earth and Crustitia, I know it was a long war and we are rebuilding after hard times
but I have a dream a dream that some day Humans and the lobster people of Crustitia will stand
hands and claws together thinking of each other as friend instead of delicious.
As we were fighting each other and consuming each other…I mean consuming each other’s
resources other powers have become way too strong.
I have a dream that we fight side by side and not only defeat the Space Turtles’ planet but
eventually our biggest menace Planet Z

Tom

Unlike Norval Joe I write my stories in the bath tub, but like Norval Joe (and who wouldn’t) I always go with the first thing that pops into my head, which can be quite painful if it is through the frontal lopes or inner ear. The second thing I do first is choose the music for the sound bed I like to do that in, well, bed. This week I could use Sweet Dreams or Dreamer, Dream a Little Dream of Me, or Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream or I Dream of Jenny, How many words was that?

TJ

Martin caught a flash of red hair as the girl ducked into the Topkapi.
She pulled her hoodie up, shifting her oversized yellow purse to the
outside and crossing to a Hot Topic to watch him pass. She pulled the
blue wig from her bag and shed the hoodie, luxuriating in the A/C across
her naked shoulders and haltertop as she slinked along behind him. He
stopped, and she caught up with him. “Sarah?” he asked, handing her
an I.D. “I thought that was you,” he said to the girl of his dreams.
“You dropped this about three looks back.”

Norval Joe

Fly Paper boy felt more like an animal in a trap than a passenger in a limousine. Esmerelda Flinch, Vice President of marketing at the Women’s Trade Federation, smiled with straight, pearly teeth from across the compartment. The was no humor in her eyes.
“I’ll have a team of the best lawyers in the state make light work of your case,” she told the boy. “In your wildest dreams, you or your parents couldn’t afford such talent.”
“I have a feeling the WTF will make me pay some other way,” Fly Paper boy said, cynically.
Suddenly Esmerelda’s eyes did smile.

Daniel W.

“Okay, back up a sec,” I said, feeling a headache coming on. “Explain that one again…”

“They’re metaphysical parasites that latch on to dreams and feed on imagination.”

“And that’s why people are becoming more apathetic?”

“Yes. As they become less imaginative, they also become more complacent. The government has truly created the perfect tool for controlling the masses.”

My headache just kept getting worse as I tried to understand the concept. Metaphysical parasites? What?

“Hell, if those infected try to think outside the parasites’ preprogrammed parameters, they’ll just get a massive headache that forces them to stop.”

Planet Z

One company developed a system that broadcasted signals into people’s dreams. They used it to put advertisements in there, much like product placement in the movies.

Another company developed a system that acted as a dream wiretap. They used it to sense what people wanted or worried about, then target them with ads based that information.

Both companies got bought out by an evil billionaire, and their systems were combined into a global mind-control ray.

A certain British spy tried to stop him, but instead of telling him about his plan, he shot the spy.

He was evil, not stupid.

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 Seventy-Three, 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 PICK TWO

Finish line
A cardboard cutout of a movie alien
W.T.F.
Swivel
… on the tip of his/her tongue
Daytime television
Double barrel
Pocket
She’s a straight arrow
Failure

How about voting for your favorites?

[polldaddy poll=5240700]

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

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Gideon McMillan

Christmas was always the same. She delivered a list of gifts she wanted. I acquired, wrapped and presented them.

One Christmas I decided to inovate; my gift ideas, my own theme.

So proud, I presented the peripherals I knew (knew!) she could use with her new laptop.

Failure.

Nonplussed, the next day I retrieved her list, acquired, wrapped and placed the gifts under the tree.

Santa even left a note telling her what a bad boy I had been.

I waited. And waited. And waited.

Abject Failure!

Until three weeks later, while taking down the tree, she found the gifts.

TJ

Teen spy Martin sent what he’d discovered in his surveillance at the
mall to Richard. They weren’t friends, exactly, but he’d teamed with
Richard on different science projects in the past and noticed where his
mild Asperger’s gave him crazy focus when it came to computer code. A
progress report of sorts came that afternoon, a text from a restricted
number: “Shut down NOW.” WTF? His provider couldn’t tell him
anything. Richard could. By the next morning, he’d pocketed an IP
address, breadcrumbs, backdoors and the data necessary to either turn
Skylar over to the Feds… or to flip him.

Tom

Gary loved to compete in the Special Olympics. His brother Bob loved to cause Gary grief. Gary was afraid of any type of monster, supernatural and other worldly. His brother knew he was particularly frightened of the Predator. Bob had placed a cardboard cutout of the movie alien at the finish line of Gary’s 440 finishing heat. As Gray rounded the track a tractor beam locked on to Bob’s foot and a laser beam vaporized the cardboard prop on the field. Gary won his gold metal and Bob discover the true meaning of that old alien book: To Server Man.

This week’s story topic was going to be What The Fuck, but it seems WTF is part of the South Park canon. Well what’s an author to do when you get hijacked my Mat and Trey … well fly to New York and do damage to Book of Mormon. I had 4000 swivel desk chairs delivered to the theater, with a note signed Love Mom. Have you ever had to escape a blood thirsty mob of gay musical fans, not a pretty sight? Decided time to hide out in Uruguay. George W lent me his writing shack, what a guy.

Bruce was recovering from a ruptured appendix. He didn’t have the strength to change the channel on the set so he was forced to watch 10 hours of daytime television. Soaps, info commercials, game shows, Dr Oz, (who the fuck it that). Finally on third shift rotation a nurse asked Bruce if he need anything. The puzzled look on his face telegraphed to Nurse Betty it was just on the tip of his tongue. Bruce mouthed: T V “Oh you want the channel changed. She clicked on Oprah and left the room. Bruce yanked the IV line. Time to go.

I’m not a very good shot. That is why I use the Double barrel Henry when I’m out on the Edge. This jacket has 49 pockets and every pocket is filled with shells. I tolerated the first zombie wave. When they start singing show tunes I got pretty darn irate. When the walking dead started doing Color Me Barbra I knew I had to end this. Got a 5000 watt preamp in the trees, play Funny Girl to draw them out. On the first note of People I turn and pepper the field. “C’est Si Bon “C’est Si Bon Fuckers.

“She’s a straight arrow” whisper Jeff. “No way dude, woman looking like that, got to be gay.” “You just got a Failure to Lift Off.” Smirked Jeff. “My rocket is fully functional the docking rings on that station are not operation. “Watch the Master and learn” Jeff floated over to Cosmonaut Lena Popolowvich. When he returned his spacesuit was full of floating gobbles of Tang. “Teachable moment?” “Shut UP. Hook up the suction tube.” As Jeff was de-tanging, Cosmonaut Olga Grogorin sat down across Lena. I don’t understand a word of Russian, but my gaydar tell me I was spot on.

Zackmann

” I hope the race is broadcast live since it will be better than anything else on daytime
television.” said Tom.
“WTF, Why do you have double barrelled tail pipes on an electric car?” asked Jerald.
“They are ironic since my local electricity comes from a coal plant therefore having more
emissions than a gas car. ” Tom Replied.
“Do you think you will be first across the finish line?” Jerald asked
“I think the swivel drivers seat may prove a failure .” Responded Tom
“What do you think of the judge?” asked Jerald
“She is a straights arrow.” answered Tom
“Good Luck”

Daniel

“Scott! Wake up! I heard a noise downstairs!”

Muttering to myself, I grabbed the double-barreled shotgun next to the bed and headed downstairs.

Creeping into the living room, I saw a monstrous form standing by the window. Startled and half-asleep, I fired both barrels without even a warning shout. The blast ripped through its chest and shattered the window behind it. Turning on a light, I saw the cardboard cutout of a movie alien that my son had won in a raffle.

Sighing, I started back upstairs. I’d clean up the mess tomorrow.

That’s when the real alien intruder struck.

Ross

Arms pumping, legs churning, he sprinted toward the finish line. The broken pavement beneath his running shoes tried to trip him up, and only sheer luck kept him vertical, and in the lead.

He flipped a glance over his shoulder, gauging how far back the others were. Could he make it before they caught up to him? Lungs and body burning, he prayed silently that it would be so.

He crossed over the line barely ahead of the pack, and collapsed…under their weight.

For the zombies, you see, it was never about the race, but only about the finish.

Norval Joe

Double barrel insults; imprisoned, and in a cell with Vinyl Man; It made the boy feel like a failure.
“Fly Paper Boy.”
He swiveled on his bunk at the sound of the warden’s voice. A familiar woman was him, her name on the tip of his tongue.
“I represent the Women’s Trade Federation,” she said, taking a paper from her pocket. “The W.T.F. is floating your bail.”
“Seriously?”
You could’ve knocked him over like a cardboard cutout of a movie alien.
“Believe her,” The warden said, “This isn’t daytime television. She’s a straight arrow. Your finish line is in sight.”

Planet Z

I see a woman sitting across the table from me, and she’s smiling.

My head hurts. I put my hand to it… bloody…

I look again at her.

I know that I should know who she is, but I just can’t remember.

It’s on the tip of my tongue. It’s… it’s… it’s…

I know I should know, but I just can’t remember it.

I put my hand in my pocket, and I pull out… a photograph…

It’s her. It says “This woman has been paid to kill you.”

I look up, and see her swinging a bloody hammer at m-