A Unfortunate Truth

The grayback move carefully to the edge of ridge. The valley was shrouded in mist that curl about the cliff and the true height of the plateau was hidden . The grayback feel the ground slide, tiny stones rolled forward. He reach out but grabbed only wisps of mist. Down into the valley he tumbled
3.5 million years later a team of Stanford students discover the fossils remains of the oldest know ancestor of modern man. The team carefully loads the plane with the fossils unfortunately a mist shrouded the valley and plane, team and fossil crash into the cliff.

The Creepy Silence

When you live in a world of light, the darkness is what you fear.
And when you live in a world of darkness, you grow to fear the light.
Creeping into the cave, the human bumps his head on a stalactite. “Damn it!”
Waiting for him is a dark elf, watching quietly.
The human hands over a sleeping baby, and the elf hands back a satchel full of gems.
“Princess Garamond wants to talk about alimony and visitation,” says the human.
The dark elf nods. “Less often and for longer, I hope.”
They both chuckle and return to their worlds.

Potion of Sleep

You’ve got troubles, I’ve got troubles, we’ve all got troubles.
Tell me your troubles, and I’ll make you a potion for them.
Got a cut? Got a scrape?
Pour this on it.
Losing your hair?
Rub a little of this one on your head. (And be sure to wear gloves. Trust me on this.)
Love? Pain? Joy?
This one’s special: sleep and death.
Just depends how much you take.
Careful, kid.
I got ’em all in these bottles, every color, every flavor.
Sip this, rub that, some drops in your eyes.
Give me your arm, this won’t hurt a bit.

Handy Man

I didn’t think it was humanly possible to step into a Slim Jim. Its pretty much a glorified strip of metal. But Nelman Freder was not your average soul. He had spent so much time in the ER they had reserved a seat with his name on it. They still tell the tale on the floor about the Gerbil and flashlight extraction. Doctor Dan wasn’t surprise to see Nelman hobble on to the floor with a Slim Jim wobbling to and fro embedded in the middle of his foot, a screwdriver in his thigh and door handle in his nose.

The Hate Of Cake

I take the cake out to the grocery store parking lot, remove the lid, and start punching it.
Frosting splatters all over the ground and my clothes as my fists pummel the cake into a mushy pulp.
Then, I lick my fists and go back into the grocery store.
“I’d like another cake,” I say.
“You’ve bought four today,” says the manager. “And you’re covered with cake. What are you doing with them?”
“Punching them,” I say. “It’s cathartic.”
The manager looks around, sees his employees goofing off, and picks up 2 cakes.
“Mind if I join you?” he says.

Waiting

Bruwyn didn’t come home last night.
Usually, he’s the first to come home, but Myst came home first.
Finding a black cat at night is impossible, of course, but you can’t just sit down and wait.
Walking around, I hear what I think is his collar, but it’s just crickets and frogs.
So, I come back home, Myst and Nardo wait up with me.
If he can’t come home for whatever reason, I hope he knows he’s loved and missed.
And if he doesn’t want to come home, well, cats are cats, and I hope he’s happy wherever he is.

Weekly Challenge #236 – Halloween

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Thirty-Six, 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… was…. um…
It’s Halloween!


Remember to post Rossotron as a separate story
ANONYMOUS
Always the same, black and orange. Always that nasty color combination
for Halloween. I presume it is a mixture of the traditional vampire
colors of black and red and the fall color of orange pumpkins. The
witches so often portrayed are black magic witches, so I guess that
makes sense; and black cats wouldn’t be the same as ginger
tabbies. But why must everything else be black and orange? When does
violet get its turn? What about all this ‘go green’ we
hear about? Wouldn’t purple witches and green pumpkins be
grand? Or is that just the Irish in me?
NORVAL JOE
Groups of kids rushed up the walkway to the door and hurried off to
the next house as two costumned boys lurched from the street to the
porch. “Trickertreet,” the taller of the two said as a woman opened
the door. “My,” the woman exclaimed cheerfully, “Who do we have here?”
The taller spoke again as he held out a plastic pumpkin, “I’m Igor,
Dr. Frankenstein’s assistant. My brother is Super Man, but he can’t
talk. He has cerebral palsy.” He helped his brother hold his bag out
to the woman. “Thank you,” he said as the two lurched away.
STEVEN
Sit down. I don’t care if you have fangs, or claws, or fur where you
shouldn’t. Sit down. Have some milk. I imagine this isn’t the response
you expected. Cookie? Sorry, I don’t have any raw childflesh. Would it
make you feel better if I screamed? I’m not going to. You don’t scare
me, Mister Monster-Man. There’s this girl, Sally. I like her, but
she’s way cooler than me. So I sent her a card saying how I feel. I
got a letter back. I haven’t opened it. I’m more scared of what’s
inside than I am of you.
TOM
Lenny what do you want to be for Halloween?” asked Mother. “A ghost,”
smiled Lenny. Mom got out her pinking shears and carefully cut two eye
sized holes in a old pillow case and gently dropped the costume over
Lenny’s head. “Time to go,” said Georgia. “Trick or Treat,”
cried Lenny. Mrs. Specter put a candy bunny in his plastic pumpkin. He
trotted back to show her. Lenny had been a ghost since he was six, saw
no need in changing now. Mom had saved each pillow case in the attic.
There were 57. “Tell me about the rabbits mom.”
KATWOOD
The zombie invasion started on Halloween, but nobody noticed for a
week. Everyone just thought it was a well co-ordinated prank,
especially the news. However, anyone who ran into these
�pranksters� quickly learned otherwise. It wasn�t
until the 4th that people realized that there were too many
�pranksters� for this to be a joke. I�m a little
paranoid, and so was wary of all this from the start. That�s
why I�m still alive. But this virus is too perfect, too
consistently fatal and too quick to appear to be natural. So, who
knows? Maybe it was a prank after all.
ZACKMANN
Yes grandma, I did have to bring the children in their costumes. After
what the wife and I sent on the materials for those they will wear
them all day and to a local Con. No grandma Anime cartoon convention.
I stopped buying anything from Guido years ago. No grandma the this
cake is not a lie and glad you are enjoying the Xbox. My wife thought
you would never use it. Happy Halloween. Happy birthday. I know you
never liked the coincidence but at least the children will remember
your birthday. It could be worse it could be Christmas.
EARLEY
Little Mario skipped past the Haunted Mansion, Hall of Presidents, and
the Liberty Bell. At the boat dock is a barrel of candy and a cast
member with a smile. After the candy is in his bag, she ask Mario,
�Where are your parents?� The three year old plumber
spins around and begins sobbing in the cast member�s colonial
dress. Thankfully she can see above the crowds. Princess Peach sighs,
adjusting Yoshi on her hip. Luigi makes eye contact with the cast
member and presses a finger to his lips. What is Halloween without a
�little� scare? Maybe Mario won�t leave
Luigi�s side again.
TED
They conquered Earth three years ago. The aliens demand revenge, but
how could we have known? The first December, they somehow learned
about Christmas. They made us stand in their living rooms for days on
end; presents at our feet for their conical green children. Those who
collapsed were executed. Last March they glued our hands to their
windows while they held a parade and drank green beer from cups held
in their clover-shaped appendages. Most of us survived. But now
we�re terrified. It�s early October and we see them
huddling their orange, pumpkin-shaped heads together and sharpening
their knives.
MRS. ABE
They boiled him. They sliced him. They chopped him into little pieces.
They grated his skin and rubbed salt into his wounds: pickling him in
his own juices. They kept his head in the freezer. They locked him in
the cellar and ate him piece by piece. They stir-fried him. They baked
him. They roasted him. And when they were done, the monsters threw his
decomposing corpse in the garbage like common trash. But one day a
year, just one, at the end of October, when he saw what happened to
the pumpkins, Sylvester was happy to be a cabbage.
ROSSOTRON
George loathed Halloween. He planned to lay low while the neighborhood
kids made their rounds, begging treats from strange adults. “WAAAAH!”
he screamed, spying the man in the corner. Floating. Above the ground.
“Friendly neighborhood poltergeist here,” the apparition moaned. “I’m
supposed to give you a heads’ up about the new Participation Law. Any
folks that don’t hand out candy get haunted until next Halloween.” As
George shuffled down the candy aisle, a young man caught his eye.
“It’s gotta be a trick, right?” George shrugged, and sighed. He was
NOT looking forward to the Easter Bunny’s visit next spring.
TJ
There�s a reason we don�t hold Election Day on
Halloween. We could send the candidates around trick or treating and
the ones with the most candy could be declared the winner. But the
fact that they could cheat and sneak entire bags of Mounds bars into
their treat bags suggests we ought to maintain the current system
� you know, terrifying political ads, mobs of angry voters,
mysterious ballot boxes that disappear into the night, letting the
dead come back to life to vote, the scary candidates themselves
� come to think of it, maybe we should hold elections on
Halloween.
PLANET Z
It’s Halloween, sitting with a bowl of candy on my doorstep. I
remember when I was a kid, dressed up, begging for candy. What
happened? When did childhood end? When I first got laid? When I got
out of school? When I got a job? No. None of those. My parole officer
said: You ain’t an adult until you go to trial as one. I cross my
legs, try to hide the ankle monitor. More kids walk by, see the sign
on the window, and keep walking. Oh well. More candy for me. And the
three kids in my basement.

Hallow’s Eve

Every holiday brings its special charms and annoying marketing blitz.
All throughout the store, you’ll see a lot more orange and black for Halloween.
We’re not just talking about the piles of candy for handing out to kids.
(Although I must admit, I ate my candy stockpile and need to go out and buy more.)
You’ll see all kinds of products decked out for the season, some of which don’t make much sense.
Small bottles of Summer’s Eve douche, rebranded “All Hallow’s Eve.”
I guess if you’re turning tricks while collecting treats, it’s essential, but I’ll just stick to candy.

Restoring Faith

The Sermonizer has been priest of Steamtown for a hundred years, presiding over weddings and funerals, delivering the Sunday sermon without fail.
Until today.
Pressure tank exploded overnight. Punchcards strewn everywhere.
Looking down from the equipment loft, I stare at Sermonizer’s marionette, slumped over the pulpit.
I climb down the stairs, and I lift it.
Not heavy at all, really.
I climb back up and tug at the support ropes.
Sermonizer wobbles to his feet.
“Dearly beloved,” I groan loudly.
Every child mimics Sermonizer in Steamtown, you know.
Clean up the cards, Deacon, and ring the bells.
Time for church.

The Book Of Life

All across the world, Apple and Google fanboys are clutching their chests and keeling over dead in the streets.
Why? Every year, The Lord writes our names in The Book Of Life.
He adds those who are born and scratches out those who died.
But this year, he’s catching the e-publishing bug and giving up on the ink and paper.
He’s worked up a file and sent it to Amazon for publishing on the Kindle.
He thought about making an app for Android and iPhone, but those smartphone owners are a bunch of annoying cocksuckers, so he’s left them out.