Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Seventy-Seven, 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 Peas in a pod.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):
Guy David
I live in a pod. The smell of peas drives me crazy, but the rent is good. The landlord is reasonably flexible. The living space is a little dense, but I get alone. It’s amazing how spacious a place can seem if you organize the furniture just right. Still, one day I hope to buy my very own carrot. Sure, it’s long and a little thin, but I like the the space better and anyway, green is not really my color. Another reason: if I forget my keys – I can eat my way in. Try doing that with a pod.
Lynda
That airplane flying over reminds me of a nice man I met who was supposed to become the first man to fly to Mars. He had to turn back on account of broken facilities, and was called Pete “Pees In A Pod” Carter from then on.
Me an’ Jenny were like peas in a pod, ‘cept we weren’t green an’ we didn’t grow out of the ground. Well, Jenny’s in the ground now, but it wasn’t like you could serve us with shrimp. I like shrimp. Shrimp’s like peas ’cause you gotta pull the strings out before you eat ’em….
Anima
“We’re having peas – how do you like ‘em? In the pod or shelled?”
“I don’t like peas.”
“Why not – they’re good for you, and see how bright green! These are fresh, not canned. I bet you’ve only ever had canned.”
“NO! I don’t like Peas! Or Eggs or Teas, for that matter. They’re foul in the mouth!”
“Then what do you like?”
“I like vowels. Vowels, Eh- Eee! Aye! Oh! Eww!, and sometimes Why? These fill the soul with expression. Much better than peas. Peas just fill the mouth. You can have my share.”
“Fine, more for me (freakin’ voweletarian).”
Lewis
The professor guided his android daughter, Sally, into the cloning
machine. He closed the door and turned it on. The machine started
making loud noises until it came to a complete stop. Sally stepped out
of the machine. Than, Sally stepped out of it again. The two girls
were like peas in a pod. He couldn’t tell one from the other. The two
girls looked at each other, and then looked at the professor. The
giggled and then pushed him into the machine and ran it in reverse.
The professor came out, only half the man he used to be.
Danny
The Starship Peaseria sat in dead-space for forty hours under a constant barrage of high intensity laser bursts from the Admiral’s large freighter. Their engines burned up on the last light jump. Now all power was being directed to their shields while they plotted an escape.
The Admiral’s orders were to not destroy the Peaseria but they would not be taken, and time was precious. So he ordered the use of the microwave cannon to cook the crew inside and followed up with an accelerated particle ray to vaporize the ship.
Two crew members in an escape pod got out.
JRadimus
Penelope and her sisters were roused from their sleep by the golden-green light filtering through their pod wall.
“M-morr-ning,” she yawned. She got the usual grumbles and murmurs in reply. The others didn’t like mornings as much as Penelope.
As the familiar sounds of machinery starting up for the day reached them, they heard the giants moving through the rows of pod plants around them, and shadows crisscrossed their view.
Something wasn’t right, though; suddenly, she remembered: “It’s Harvest Day!” she screamed. A hand’s shadow slid over the pod, blocking the light, and their pod was torn from its stem.
Norval Joe
The starship was rocked repeatedly by wave after wave of EM pulse bombs from the alien armada.
The klaxon boomed the “whang, whang, whang” sound of abandon ship.
Emergency lights along the passage directed the personnel to the evacuation bay.
All six seats were filled and the small, round, self contained, escape vehicle burst from within the mother ship and began to warp to the closest hospitable planet.
Lieutenant Parker spoke into his transmitter, “for the record. ID check. Phillips?”
“Present, sir.”
“Peterson?”
“Here.”
“Pollard?”
“Here, sir.”
“Pratchett?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Peacock?”
“Yup.”
Parker said, “Escape Pod 3412 full and ejected.”
TJ
Keystrokes clicked, pop music played, and in the shade of a lakeside willow, the late afternoon sun dappled Kaylynn’s laptop monitor as she composed a Sweet 16 “thank you” e-mail to her Aunt Viv. She watched as Paul, a boy in her class, ran along the beach with his dog, and as couples lounged together on beach blankets. Alone. Just then a stray blue Frisbee floated into view, narrowly missing her. Douglas, another classmate, ran up to see if she was OK. She was, but was so distracted she hit “send,” without spellchecking, thanking her aunt for the new iPPod.
Justin
This haul of ore would bring me back into the black, if I could survive the trip back to the space station. I cursed as my radar lit with red. Alarms blared as incoming fire assaulted my ship. Bits of my hauler blew apart around me. Soon I found myself floating in my escape pod. I briefly had a moment wondering how up to date my clone was when a beam of light shot towards me. I expected to become a frozen corpse, but the sadistic pirate hadn’t aimed to kill me. Instead, his sharpshooting destroyed the pod’s toilet system.
Planet Z
The hawthorn has beautiful flowers in the spring and brown peapods in the fall.
They rattle when you shake them.
Year-round, large sharp curved spikes.
“Be careful,” says my mother.
Our first spring, I reach for a flower, and my hand it comes away bleeding, scratched by a thorn.
Our first summer, filling the bird feeder and then watching the squirrels empty it.
Our first fall, the dog eats some of the fallen pods. Vomits. A lot.
Our first winter, we mostly stayed inside. It was too damn cold.
A snowman, tied to the trunk, blindfolded.
Ready. Aim. Fire.