Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Thirty-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… was…. um…
It’s Cabbage!
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):
Steven
The cabbages gained sentience on a Thursday.
They conquered the Earth by Saturday.
Some humans simply went mad, unable to deal with the vegetable voices
in their supermarkets, in their stomachs. Other humans required more
emphatic persuasion to submit.
A cabbage moving at high speed suffers little damage when impacting a
human skull.
The skull is not so lucky.
That Sunday, mass funerals were held for the victims of coleslaw
violence outside of every KFC. All countries, led by cabbage rulers,
declared peace.
At least the world was finally in harmony.
Until the next Thursday, when the rutabagas started talking.
AM Earley
Cabbage, beer and bratwurst combine to make my dad’s favorite meal. He ate it almost everyday. Oh sure, it tasted good, mom added carrots, onions and garlic. However I learned early on that I never wanted to sit in the same room with him for the rest of the night.
I found staying in my room was my best option, better when I stuffed a towel under my door. So I was stuck with doing my homework, or reading the Encyclopedia Britannica.
Maybe that’s how I ended up before all you nice people as Valedictorian of Elmwood High.
Anonymous
I know everyone poops, and every creature God created poops, but why don’t people clean up after their dogs? Before work today I had to roll the garbage can to the back of the house, around two other townhouses. I was dressed for work, and…guess what? Yup, I stepped in it. It was fresh and stinky and I guess hiding in a pile of leaves, cuz I didn’t see it. Since doggies don’t have opposable thumbs, their owners need to shovel up after them. Maybe I’ll go scrape my shoes on their front steps. Think they would get the hint?
Katwood
It’s a little known fact that dragons love cabbage, which was the root cause of the first dragon attack. The survivors told everyone that they were attacked for no reason by bloodthirsty monsters. That makes a much better story than “we were attacked because we wouldn’t hold up our end of a cabbage trade agreement or return the payment that we took”. This, of course, lead to an all-out war. Now, the few remaining humans hide as well as they can, to avoid being dragged off to grow cabbage. We would do it ourselves, but dragons are notoriously bad farmers.
TJ
Charles Babbage hated cabbage. He built up a machine
A Differential Engine to analyze cuisine
>From all the world over, Hungarian and Russian,
French, Greek and Korean, Rumanian and Prussian
Fed he into one end, machinery would clatter,
Analysis commenced on texture, chemistry and matter
If cabbage found he none, the meal would ensue
Even tho the end result resembled that of goo.
If cabbage was detected, the machine let out a blast
That thus avoiding, Charles did not pass along as gas
Cabbage free, his home took on a positiver air
Tranquil domesticity is all shall find you there.
Tom
A little know fact about the Irish potato famine was the effect of the baby zombies an army of cabbage patch children. Not the ugly toys from the 80s. but truly ugly little walking dead. At night you could hear their mournful cannibalistic cries. “Spuds Spuds” Damn near eat everything in Erie.
Some enterprising souls took to capturing Gabbages for their pots of lead. All that leaded crystal made the those who survived quite well todo. In remembrance of their deliverance Irish boil the cabbage and if they could get their hand on Elizabeth Windsor they’d boil her too.
Zackmann
I hated to move because I really miss my friend named Kim Chi. Every week I would have
supper with her and she loved to cook.She made what she called ham burgers with canned
ham patties and eggs served on an English Muffin. I thought it more of a breakfast but
sometimes we had lunch at night and our breakfast for supper. She always had rice and very
spicy vegetables. My favorite thing she made was a sort or pickled salad with Napa cabbage,
Daikon radishes, and lots of spice but I can’t remember what it’s called.
Please,come with me and take that basket because the Monroes gave me permission to pick
some produce from their garden. They are also a friend of Mr Howe’s who my wife promised
to make some fresh lumpia. Watch out for holes and don’t pick any white vegetables that
shouldn’t be white. Did I mention the Monroes have a vegetarian vampyre rabbit. No, he is
totally harmless and sleeps inside the house until dusk. Bunnicla only eats or rather only drinks
vegetables . Those white cabbages do look pretty creepy after Bunnicula sucks the life out of
them.
Ted
“Roll The Cabbage! Roll The Cabbage!”
It had been an annual tradition as Henry could remember and was one he truly hated.
Every summer the children hunted out The Cabbage hiding in the back of some closet and carried The Cabbage to the hill.
They rolled The Cabbage down the slope, sometimes hitting The Cabbage with sticks and tumbling after The Cabbage. Someone always got hurt, usually Henry.
“Jesus, I hate those bastards,” thought Henry just before vomiting and blacking out at the bottom of the hill. “It’s such a stupid nickname too; why can’t they just call me ‘Fatso’?”
This is my serious entry, the one that will win the Nobel prize. I don’t care how you do the narration, the father should be friendly but a pit paternalistic, “young Helen” can sound like a little girl. Peter’s father (“Corinthian stuffed cabbage!”) should sound like a proud Mediterranean older man, you can do the Greek accent for Peter as well if you want, I trust your judgment, Mr. Midget.
Her father was an art historian too. “Name the three Greek architectural styles,” he challenged.
Young Helen racked her brain: “the plain columns are Doric, the scroll Ionic, the leaves, um….”
“Corinthian. C for cabbage. Cabbage, Corinthian, OK?”
He died after she defended her dissertation on Roman temple carvings.
She met Peter while in Greece for her first sabbatical.
Dinner with his family. “Mom does most of the cooking but Papa is very proud of his regional specialties.”
The plate comes out: steaming leaves overflowing with meat and rice.
“Corinthian stuffed cabbage!”
They smell fantastic, and she begins to cry.
Norval Joe
I grew up down south around Bakersfield. My family was so poor we all lived in the same cardboard box. It was good we lived in Bakersfield, cause it don’t get really cold there or rain very much.
My cousin lived with us, too. He had a big old head that looked like a cabbage, so we just called him cabbage, his hair was green. Maybe he didn’t being called that cause he up and disappeared one day.
Times got really hard and we didn’t have much food. Funny, for a long time all we ever ate was cabbage soup.
Planet Z
Sure they were cute when they were young, but Cabbage Patch Kids don’t stay kids forever.
They grew up and became the Cabbage Patch Teens, and soon after, the lost and confused Generation Cabbage.
Imagine, trying to get a driver’s license, and all you have as documentation is a fake birth certificate from some toy company.
You can’t get Social Security cards with that, either, so you can’t get a real job.
Day laborers, prostitutes, drug addicts.
Now when you see them, by the side of the road, begging for food.
Once, you loved them.
But, you grew up too.