Category: Jim S.

Jim S. begins a saga of lamas…

It surprised me when I received the phone call from the director that I should report to brig #6. Ever since the humans had eradicated the earth, there wasn’t too much call for us legal-types on the orbital station. It wasn’t like there was a lot of room or motivation to get into trouble up here. I’d prepared a single defense, which basically consisted of a pre-formatted apology and it had done the trick every time so far.
A short time later, I was sitting with a scrawny, bespectacled scientist named Drienon.
Then he began to tell me his story…

This appears to be continued.

Jim S. has a little too much fun with llamas.

“You’ve been charged with what?”
“Unnatural acts of perversion.” He said. “It was the peanut butter that did the trick. Resurrecting the llama wouldn’t have been possible without it.”
“Really?” I said, “Do continue…”
“It was an idea I had a while ago. All of the DNA samples from every species have been stored up here since before the humans destroyed the earth. They’re obviously here so someone can resurrect the species made extinct by the humans’ stupidity. I figured I’d give it a try. It almost worked, too… until the police arrived.”
THIS was going to be a challenge.

Um… okay.

The theme was a White Rabbit, which I blew off because it came way too late and I’d already written something. However, Jim S. the Folderman was up to the challenge!

TA-DUM!
For the 3,627,122nd time, “The Amazing Moldini” pulled the bloody white rabbit out of the hat.
This time was slightly different, though. The rabbit really was bloody. He’d been calling it “that bloody rabbit” for so long that it actually didn’t register at first. It was a little hard to ignore the pregnant silence that descended right after the impressed sigh that he was so used to.
Looking up at the bloody carcass, he sighed. To think, he’d actually thought that being the “house show” at the Broadview Retirement Home was the absolute lowest that his career could sink…

Go ask Alice!

This podcast of a Jim S. the Folderman has been brough to you by the letter Q…

Why does it seem like everything is brought to you by the letter “Q”?
“A” gets a bum rap if you ask me. It is first and foremost among the letters and yet that damned “Q” gets all that attention. It’s not fair, I say. And a good marketing campaign is essential to rectify the problem.
Obviously, “A” didn’t think it would need a good publicist and manager. It forgot that the first is often the quickest to fade from memory and quite blatantly relied on advice from a manager who was already making the quick bucks on “Q”’s career.

A’s manager sounds like my agent.

Jim S. takes the carnival ride exit sign theme to its fun conclusion…

It wasn’t a simple exit from a carnie ride.
To her, it was a vision, an epiphany, if you will. Her entire life had been spent building up to this moment. On the other side of that flashy, impressive “EXIT” sign was a new life.
She’d followed, unhappily in her mother’s footsteps and enlisted in the carnie lifestyle. Every step of the way, she’d dreaded it, UNTIL today. Today’s events had changed everything. This time she meant it. It was about time for her to be out of here.
So, without further adieu, the bearded lady stepped through the exit.

You go, girl!

Jim S. The Folderman comes up with an odd story about a birthday surprise…

It had been a long night. Since it was my birthday today, I hadn’t minded spending the night with those “buddies” from Xylon-7. They were quite hospitable, as usual, it’s just that I tend to “forget” certain parts of the night after a few rounds of Driamian ale.
Like the time they probed me, just to make use of that Earth-cliché. I didn’t remember it until the video was playing on the main view-screen in the office a week later. Ha-ha… very funny.
Only Xylon knows what “fun” event from last night will turn up on the view-screen next week!

Happy birthday, Jim!

Jim S. falls into a deep, dark despair…

Despair.
Deep, dark despair.
It was a long story but he tried to make it shorter. The woman, the man and the child. It all ends in a deep, dark despair of the type that you only read about in those books with fancy Thor-like men on the cover. She’d left him for a history professor she admired and she had taken his boy.
Anyway, he looked down at the people below and decided that he should make them wait a little longer for the grand finale. Then again, he’d already thrown the baby and the bitch over, why wait?

Yes! The final twist!
A perfect match for this site! Hooray!

Now we learn about Jim’s home life…

It was the same old story. The one that involves wet noodles, dancing girls and a jealous orangutan.
Well, maybe it wasn’t all THAT common, but it was the same old story to me as I laid here in bed, staring out the rear window of my stuffy apartment. I saw the clear blue skies that I wouldn’t be able to stand under and inhale the sweet summer wind for quite some time yet.
Which gave me more than enough time to plot what I was going to do to that wretched monkey when I got a hold of it.

I get the feeling we’ll find out in the very near future.

Jim S. has returned with a few more stories. I’ll trickle these into the feed so you can savor each of them. They’re really good.

He returned to his work with a renewed vigor not seen by many. Concentrating, he quickly moved through the job at hand. Repetitive and boring as it was, that didn’t matter now. All that mattered was the job.
Left, right, up, back. Done.
Repeat.
Left, right, up, back. Done.
Repeat.
Only a couple more and the job would be finished. The obsession would be quelled… for a little while at least.
Finishing up, he stepped away from the table to admire his work. He sighed and confirmed it in his mind; he WAS the best jumpsuit folder in the prison!

Obsession can be a strange thing.
Record MP3… FTP MP3… make entry… Save… rebuild feed…
Record MP3… FTP MP3… make entry… Save… rebuild feed…

Jim S. comes back with a new one…

What was that?
Thinking it was probably nothing, she got back to her work. Sweating profusely and muttering to herself, she meticulously counted out the wampum.
“One for you, one for me. One for you, two for me.”
It wasn’t quite fair, but to hell with them. They’d made her to divvy up the loot because she was apparently the only one who could count AND understand them.
Greed was, indeed a slippery slope. And a distracting one at that, since the ground shaking was actually their cannon shooting a fusillade at her village.
She NEVER even heard it coming.

Cool. Who else will become addicted to podcasting their 100 Word Stories? Will the entire world start podcasting them?
I hope so. Because they’re even more fun to listen to that to write.