Weekly Challenge #934 – Register

The next topic is Stations

RICHARD

It’s me

I was the one who never paid attention in school.
I was the one who spent time doodling, rather than studying.
I was the one who never got good grades.
I was the one who never cared about grades anyway.
I was the one who didn’t turn up for the last two years of school.
I was the one who only got a minimum wage job.
I’m the one who works on the checkout.
But you never see me.
I’m the one crouched beneath the register.
I’m the one making the ‘boop, boop’ noises as the cashier scans your goods.

LISA

FACTS

We set about collating the various newspaper articles we’d found and created a makeshift register, it felt good to have a task, something to do.

Two girls- never been here in the basement- DEAD

Ten Boys- not here MISSING

And our names. All fifteen of them.

We use a separate page for each name and add dates of birth, ages, eye colour, where we worked, lived, and were taken. I was trying to find a pattern or connection but apart from the fact we’ve been sharing a basement for months; there doesn’t seem to be much else that links us.

SERENDIPIDY

I’m here, although you never acknowledge me.

Always with you, biding my time, just waiting for my moment. I barely register in your consciousness, and you may never even discover me there, but be assured, I am.

So, I wait.

And, just maybe, one day I will burst forth and reveal myself and all that I am.

All that you are.

When the chain snaps, and the gloves come off, you’ll see me for who I am.

I am the murderer, the avenger, and the destroyer – the secret side we all harbour. Never revealed.

Did I say never?

Maybe not!

LIZZIE

To attend the Social Club, one must register by performing a few tasks. A first edition for the library, one gold coin for the coffers, and a finger. At first, he assumed it would be his fingerprint. No, an actual finger and not his own. Well, that could pose a challenge. They nodded. He tried. He did. But who would’ve thought people were so attached to their fingers… He ended up hiring a squirmish hitman who refused to do the chopping. Then, he hired a butcher with morals. And here he was, at the Social Club, but not that one.

TOM

Explore the Fascinating World of Machine Language.

When I was a kid there was this cool educational toy call the Visible Man. A clear plastic shell will all the organs in primary colors. Later the VISIBLE V8 Internal Combustion Engine arrived. There was even a Visible Horse. Fast forward to the heady days of Apple 2e when shelves of program vied for your computing interest. An offering called Visible 6502 caught my eye. Thought it would have the same cool effect as the old models. Nope, a grid of hex-s flowing though registers. Watching an Accumulator accumulate not exactly quality entertainment. What it needed was Blinkenlights.

Here’s the Deal

I’m not a consistent dealer. In spite of hours of poker play I haven’t quite got the knack of counting to five. Why do my friends allow be anywhere close to a deck? I deal amazing hands. Often the best cards anyone has had in their life. One evening I dealt Don four queens. He framed the cards. Another night I dealt a royal flush. That one sadly only got Robert 50 cents. Over COVID I created a magic deck that deals out infinite royal flushes. Trick only works if you can count to five. Still working on that part.

NORVAL JOE

Paramedics worked on Mr. Withybottom as they passed the wrecked Continental.
Billbert hoped it would register when he shouted, “Linoliamanda is okay. She’s in the meadow with Sabrina.”
Sitting in the patrol car, Billbert looked at Sabrina’s blood on his hands. “Those are my friends in the meadow. Is Sabrina going to be okay?”
The cop looked at Billbert in the rearview mirror as he backed onto the dirt road. “Fine way to show your friendship by shooting them.”
“You need to find that septic tank guy. He’s the shooter,” Billbert pleaded.
“You need to shut up,” the cop sniped.

PLANET Z

My grandfather ran a grocery co-op in Downtown Chicago, serving corner bodegas and convenience stores for decades.
There was a massive brass antique cash register in the office.
As kids, we’d play with it. Until we got bored.
My grandfather would leave some coins in the register.
I don’t know if these were meant for us, or he knew we’d take the coins whether they were gifts or not.
We also climbed the stairs to the loft where the candy was stored, and stole that.
I always feel a little guilty going through the candy aisle in the Circle K.

CHATGPT

In the quiet of a dusty bookstore, an ancient register nestled amidst forgotten tomes. Its brass keys whispered tales of countless transactions, each one a chapter in the store’s history. From the excitement of a child’s first book to the solemnity of a final purchase, it bore witness to life’s passage. Yet, as the world outside changed, the register remained steadfast, a guardian of memories. Its worn buttons, a testament to time’s relentless march. And though technology advanced, its simple elegance endured, a beacon of nostalgia. For within its polished frame lay not just records, but echoes of bygone eras.

Weekly Challenge #933 – You’ll never believe

The next topic is Register

LISA

Revelation

Another day brings with it another newspaper.

“You’ll never believe it – there’s a serial killer out there.”

She turns the page to show two familiar faces from the police evidence board. The girls the police found murdered before I was taken. I survey the room awaiting the recognition and inevitable horror.

There’s nothing.

“Don’t you recognise them?” I ask incredulously.

Every girl shakes her head.

I look around and realise our man isn’t who I thought he was.

My mind races, do the police know by now?

So. What is he? Is anyone actually looking for him.

I keep quiet.

LIZZIE

You’ll never believe what the crow said. “Crows don’t speak,” someone shouted from the back of the room. He continued to explain. Some listened in silence. Many mocked him. “It’s coming. We need to prepare.” But who was coming? And why? “I don’t know.” A group fled to the mountains. The rest just went home. The next day, a giant shadow covered the town. “Blind, we’re all blind.” This lasted a hundred years. Then, the shadow lifted. When the crow returned, they listened. They worked together. They were prepared. The crow smiled,whispering “No need for a shadow this time.”

RICHARD

Charlie

Hey, listen to this…

You’ll never believe what I saw last night: Charlie out on the town, with a blonde bimbo half his age.

You wouldn’t credit it, would you? Charlie, of all people!

Good luck to him, I say. Can’t help feeling sorry for his Mrs though, at home all alone, while he’s carrying on behind her back. Poor thing.

I left the group to gossip amongst themselves, then sent a text to Charlies’ daughter: ‘Take your dad down the pub again tonight.’

That would leave the whole evening free for me and his Mrs to have fun again.

SERENDIPIDY

You’ll never believe the pain I can inflict upon you.

Just imagine how it feels to have your finger and toenails slowly peeled off, or to have acid pumped into every orifice.

Or maybe I’ll stick matches in your eyes, then set them aflame?

And that’s just for starters.

I want you to know exactly what lies in store for you if you dare to try that with me ever again!

Some things you just don’t do.

So, be a dear… make me another cup of coffee, and this time – if you know what’s good for you – only one sugar!

NORVAL JOE

A swat agent approached Billbert. He shook his head grimly. “You’ll never believe we have a teenage shooter in our county. How many mass shootings have we had in America this year already? What is this country coming to?”
He looked at one of his men and nodded to Billbert. “Cuff him.”
“It wasn’t me.” Billbert struggled to point as the driver disappeared into the trees. “It was that guy.”
Seeing no one where Billbert indicated, the officer said, “We’ll hear your story when we get you downtown.”
They dragged Billbert past the car wreck to a waiting squad car.

TOM

933

You’ll never believe it, but I just meet the Pope at the Venetian. He was playing craps in one of the far back rooms. Had a bunch of holy see guys with him. Sure, they were all in some form of disguise. Lot of bad facial hair. Sided burns out of the 50s. God damn Mullets. Pope in front party in back. Sure, I know the news said he was in hospital, but I’m tell you it was the pope. He even had me blow on his dices. What was the tip-off. No one wears red Pradas like his holiness.

850

Concertinas and Pacing
Of late my favorite classic piece of music is libertango by Astor Piazzolla. It is the music currently playing in the background. Very Latin in flavor. There are dozens of videos on the net with Concertinas soaring at blistering pacing. Some include demolition Tango dancers. This is not father’s accordion. Actually, the key pattern is different. Concertinas have keys operating parallel to the bellows travel and accordions have keys operating perpendicular to the bellows travel. Concertinas feature buttons at both ends of the instrument whereas accordion buttons are on the front. I wonder if Weird Al has recorded a version?

PLANET Z

I try not to eat too late these days.
Best to let food settle for three or four hours before laying down or sleeping.
It makes naps difficult. Impossible.
And if dinner slides a bit later, well, best to have a light salad or soup earlier and then reschedule.
Otherwise, it’s a dessert of antacids.
And certainly not any coffee or anything harsh on the stomach.
Too many times, and you can kiss sleep goodbye.
Can you call in sick? Good.
Check for a series to stream, bundle up, and keep yourself awake a bit until the food goes down.

CHATGPT

“You’ll never believe it,” Bob exclaimed, his eyes wide with excitement as he burst into the room. “I just trained my goldfish to play poker!”

His friends exchanged skeptical glances. “Bob, you’ve lost it,” Sarah chuckled.

But Bob was undeterred. He proudly displayed his aquatic card sharks, each goldfish sporting a tiny poker visor and a serious expression. As they dealt the cards, one fish even blew a bubble confidently.

“See? He’s bluffing!” Bob pointed, but the others erupted into laughter.

“Congratulations, Bob,” Sarah said, patting his shoulder. “You’ve officially reached the deep end of insanity.”

Weekly Challenge #932 – Across

The next topic is You’ll never believe

LISA

He brought us today’s newspaper! Finding out that it’s March makes my tummy lurch. It feels odd reading and finding out that life has just gone on without us. But, it seems it has. I’m almost disappointed that we’re not spoken about on every page.

There’s actually nothing about any of us.

The headlines are full of a missing boy. A boy: from across the river. I scour the article, the police cogs in my brain whirring, it makes three missing lads in the last month. It’s weirdly as if it’s written about us but they’re boys that have disappeared.

RICHARD

Never a cross word

I don’t know why I bother with the crossword, I rarely manage to complete it.

I had a vague idea it might keep my brain active, perhaps prevent the onset of future senility, but I have my doubts.

This morning’s effort wasn’t going well.

Nine across: seven letters, B, something, something, F, something, L, something, D; ‘Perplexed, the flow is obstructed’. What sort of a rubbish clue was that?

Perhaps dementia was already setting in?

Taking a slurp of coffee didn’t make things any clearer, and I put my pen down, defeated.

Yes, I’ve given up once again. Completely… Baffled.

LIZZIE

She sat down in the cabine across the aisle from me. She didn’t smile when I smiled. She looked down, her hands on her lap. It was pouring. I always worried about everything. In my mind, she worried too. So, I wanted to go over to her. A hug. Or perhaps I could hold her hand. As her husband-to-be, I heard someone say, closed the door, she took a quick glimpse at me and waved a shy wave. We never talked, but every year we would make the same trip. And I would wait a whole year for that wave.

SERENDIPIDY

How do I get the seriousness of your situation across to you?

All I’m asking you to do is confess your sins and recant your faith – just say the words – not exactly difficult, is it?

I simply need to hear you say it, and then you can go free. No need for any more torture, pain or tears. I can make it all go away, but first I need to hear you say it.

My impatience grows. Your refusal to speak is becoming irritating.

Although, coming to think of it, maybe I should have waited before cutting out your tongue?

NORVAL JOE

Billbert grabbed the rifle from the man’s fingertips and stepped back as the helicopter flew across the treetops and dropped down into the meadow by Sabrina. Swat team members spilled from the open doors.
A loudspeaker squelched. “Put the rifle down and put your hands in the air.”
Knowing that if he’d been Black, Billbert would already be dead, he threw the rifle to the ground.
The van driver ran for the trees and Billbert lowered a hand to point at him. “That’s the guy…”
The loudspeaker cut him off. “Put your hands in the air or we will shoot.”

TOM

It seemed like a good idea at the time

It took either an amazing amount of courage or galactic stupidity. Neither of these terms were available to Pa-Pi. He only had about 300 words in his head, half were getting food, food itself, what animals want him for food. When he put the lashed timber together and dropped it in the water, the locals laughed there asses off. Ass was pretty very useful for collective humor. They hadn’t really invented joke yet. Mostly rocks and fire. It was a rough ride across the water, but he made it. Pa-pi was the first human to leave Africa. The other followed.

849

She could me Boo

Jack entered fatherhood late, but with full on commitment. He even did messy dippers. When toys were purchased, they had been researched for maximum educations value. He also had clear idea of paternal names he truly dislike. Pops was an athame. Daddy was so prosaic. Father so formal. Dad so 1950s. Jack want to be Pa-Pa. A medieval patrona. He wanted a family that would fit in comfortability int a production of Fiddler on the Roof. He saw to himself as the paterfamilias. Of course, the girl, as children will disregarded his wishes. Somehow an early game of peek-a-boo took.

PLANET Z

Bobby started the Neuralink, and his bedroom turned into the classroom.
Bobby liked to log in early, because the good teachers filled up quickly.
Sure, teachers all looked the same, but the people driving the avatars varied.
The state kept offshoring more and more teachers, so you could end up with some Bangladesh contracto driving a thousand pupils and reading from a script, the translation engine spewing gibberish.
Even the AI were better than those geeks.
But Brooks was the best, so Bobby logged in early, took his seat, and went to the bathroom.
And forgot to pause the link.

CHATGPT

In tiny Woodbury, an oddly massive hospital looms, void of doctors, nurses, and beds. Locals, curious, venture to Mainhaven for medical care. Woodbury’s relic is boarded-up, with a forbidden basement that lures adventurous kids. They unearth eerie, rusted tools reminiscent of horror films. Legend whispers that a century ago, the colossal structure was the state asylum, harboring bizarre events. Patients, lost in time, vanished mysteriously. Rumor suggests one transformed into the town’s mayor, proving unexpectedly adept. In the shadows of Woodbury’s past, whispers of a sinister era persist, casting an ominous veil over the unsuspecting town.

Weekly Challenge #931 PICK TWO Free gift, Long live The King, Hit, Scribble, France, Waterfall

The next topic is Across

LISA

It feels like weeks since we’ve seen ‘no 1’ and It hits me that we don’t know the date. I wonder if we’d get one if we asked for a newspaper.

There’s not much to do–most of us are writing something now mostly just scribbled thoughts. We laugh playing with the free gift on the breakfast cereal. Laughter always makes us sad afterwards. The basement becomes quieter and more subdued. It’s odd isn’t it?

It prompts us to think about another explore. We’ve not wanted to since number 2 arrived but we plan and it lifts the mood again.

LIZZIE

It’s almost half past four. I pick up the book, a gift from a stranger in the park. “It’s about France,” he said with a smile. It hit me then that if I don’t leave, she will destroy me. “Why do you hate me so much?” She asked. I don’t. I never have. Wrong answer. And after that, she punished me for weeks with silence. I grab my small backpack, my whole life in it, and go. A gift, a smile, a gesture of generosity, and I am free. That’s all it took. Amazing, isn’t it? That’s all it took.

RICHARD

Free, or captive?

I’m a sucker for a free gift, doesn’t matter what it is, what it’s worth, or whatever it is I have to purchase or sign up for to get it, count me in.

Supermarket trips can be a nightmare, hit me with an aisle full of ‘buy one, get one free’, and I’ll be there all day, until the money runs out.

That’s becoming a real problem, actually. My habit has put me on the brink of bankruptcy, and even though every room in my house is stuffed full of freebies, there’s not an item of real value among them.

SERENDIPIDY

Long live the king, they shout and cheer. It sickens me, but let them have their moment, for it will soon be over and the streets will run with monarchist blood.

Tonight, the revolution begins, and we who have vowed to see a new future will rise up and claim France for its people.

No more will the aristocracy lord it over us, while we suffer and toil; no more will the working class support those who have never lifted a finger in honest labour.

Long live the king? I very much doubt it.

Vive la révolution!

Vive la France!

TOM

Faith
There is a waterfall in France call Labulaydelusane. As waterfall go it isn’t that high, or wide or watery crashy. What it has is a grotto of uncommon beauty. It gives the sanctuary of Lourdes Massabielle, a run for the money. A clever family in the 16th century place a pile of crutches against the wall. Over time folk have left 1000s of crutches on wall. The family got pretty damn rich hawking the healing water of Labulaydelusane. Everyone who left their crutches there need to roll away in a wheelchair. But still they come. Until the day Timmy arrived

848

Cross country.

cross country racing strategy does not necessarily simplify to running a steady pace from start to finish. runners debate the relative merits of fast starts to get clear of the field, versus steady pacing to maximize physiological efficiency. Some teams emphasize running in a group in order to provide encouragement, while others hold that every individual should run their own race. Whether you run ahead ‘of the pack’ or behind it and pull ahead in the end is important, but can vary according to the runner’s skill and endurance. Runners should also account for food intake prior to the race.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert hovered above the car crash. It was like a free gift from fate that the shooter had been dazed when he hit the ground.
He recognized the Lincoln Continental that had smashed into the van as Mr. Withybottom’s.
Three teenage Black Knights stumbled from the van. There was no movement from Mr. Withybottom.
As the residents crept into the meadow, Billbert heard distant sirens and a helicopter approaching.
The teens heard it too and scattered into the trees.
The shooter had come around and crawled to get his rifle. Billbert couldn’t allow that and flew fast to intercept him.

PLANET Z

Some say that the Iditarod is the toughest race, but having a team of dogs pull your sled through snow for a thousand miles is nothing compared to a fourth-grader having to drag a cello eight blocks from home to music school and back through Harlem at night.
That’s why we set up the Midnight Youth Orchestra in one of the basketball courts.
The kids come out and play, and the dealers stop dealing, the hookers stop hooking, and the junkies stop junking.
Everybody forgets where they are and who they are.
Until Old Mrs. Washington files a noise complaint.

CHATGPT

In the heart of France, a waterfall whispered secrets to the passing winds. Amidst its mist, a traveler stumbled upon a scribbled note—a plea for freedom, a gift from a silenced voice. Unraveling its message, the traveler uncovered a plot against the king, a hit orchestrated by dissenters. Determined to protect the monarchy, the traveler raced to the castle, delivering the warning. The king’s reign was safeguarded, his gratitude overflowing like the cascade before him. Long live the king echoed through the land, a testament to the power of loyalty and the resilience of a nation united.

Weekly Challenge #930 – Car Crash

A day late, but not a dollar short…

The next topic is PICK TWO Free gift, Long live The King, Hit, Scribble, France, Waterfall

LISA

A different man comes to the door this morning. His face is less gentle. He stares too long at all of us as he pops the box down. I see it in his profile a brother or a cousin, definitely a relative.

It’s awkward. He stands staring for too long. We stare back expectantly whilst having no idea what to expect.

“He’s been in a car crash.”

None of us speak.

“He’s OK but in hospital.”

He turns, lingers by the door.

“Do you need anything else?”

I’m not sure if any of us has blinked.

We shake our heads.     

RICHARD

Bad Reception

“Why do you watch that rubbish” she asked.

I looked at her blankly, waiting for further explanation.

She put on her ‘exasperated’ look. “It’s car crash TV. You know it’s aimed at plebs and Neanderthals, don’t you?”

I grunted in response. Might as well rise to the occasion, I thought.

She looked at me in disgust, “well, I’m not watching it with you, I’m going to watch Britain’s Got Talent in the bedroom!”
I gave her a moment, waiting for the bedroom door to close, before switching to the movie channel.

Nothing like having a good movie all to yourself!

LIZZIE

They survived the car crash. They survived the cruise ship sinking in the Mediterranean. They survived the train wreck in Sri Lanka. And the list went on and on. A tsunami, a volcanic eruption, a flood, a tornado, even a pandemic. Until that long-awaited trip to the North pole. “Take the icebreaker. It’s safer,” someone said.” No, of course not. “Let’s do something dangerous. Nothing ever happens to us.” They rented a small plane. Did they know how to fly a plane? Not really. And that’s where the list stopped. Simulation terminated. “Lousy game. Good thing it was dirt cheap.”

SERENDIPIDY

Yeah, I cut the brake lines. So what?

It’s not as if the car was worth a whole lot. It was falling apart, an unreliable rust bucket that would only start when it felt like it, and was a complete nightmare to keep on the road.

So, it really had to go, and I wanted to send it off in style. The idea was to floor the gas pedal and let it crash headlong into a tree, without anything to prevent the impact.

So, I cut the brake lines. So what?

Oh, right. Yeah, my husband was driving.

So what?

TOM

crash

It was my freshman year in college. My roommate was driving a Ford Econ. We were tooling down the JFK back to Evanston. Suddenly a spring downpour, 2in in about five minutes. We got cut off, not quite. Truck clips the front of the van sent is into a 360 spin. We pile into a bridge abutment. Driver’s door pops open dumping my roommate out. Van does a second 360 toss me out the same door on to the freeway. I side diagonally across four lanes of highway. And finally pile into the guardrail. Miracle, I survived the car crash.

Calcutta

It was the 36th hole. Two days of play. Our team was in second place. One stroke difference from beating the guys in first place. This was the only match at the club that banked bets. The caddies were not allowed to bet, but one member place them for us. The whole club was surrounding the green of the 18th. All three of the team dropped their putts. If my member dropped it on one it looked out the team behind us. The putt rims the cup and rolls a way. Everyone sees the choke. Crowd does a low murmur.

NORVAL JOE

Linoliumanda knelt next to Billbert, looked at Sabrina’s leg and threw up.
Billbert pulled off his hoody, folded it into a thick square and pressed it against Sabrina’s wound.
“Mandi. Hold this against Sabrina’s leg.”
Wide eyed, Linoliumanda shook her head, and vomited again.
“You have to,” Billbert said and took her hands, placing them on the hoody. “Keep pressure on the wound.”
Billbert leaped into the air and shot toward the van.
With a loud crash and the sound of tearing metal, the van shook and the driver was thrown to the ground, his assault rifle landing yards away.

PLANET Z

Some men put their man caves in their basements and fill them with televisions and barstools and sports memorabilia, but Elias’ mancave is a literal cave along the coast of Scotland.
When he invites the guys over for the drink, they hop in their rowboats and fight the waves for an hour or so before landing exhausted on the rocky shore.
Some don’t make it, and the ones who do raise a toast to their memory.
Then they head back out, because the mancave gets lousy television reception, and the cable guy died last year.
The gang toasts his memory.

CHATGPT

Amidst the night’s haze, tires screeched and metal clashed. Two lives intersected in a split second, forever altering destinies. Glass shattered like dreams as reality blurred into chaos. Sirens wailed, piercing the silence of the once serene street. Bodies shaken, hearts racing, they emerged from the wreckage, grateful for survival yet haunted by what could have been. In the wreckage’s aftermath, amidst twisted metal and broken dreams, they found solace in each other’s embrace. A reminder that even in life’s most jarring collisions, there exists the potential for healing and the strength to rebuild from the wreckage.

Weekly Challenge #929 – Benefits

The next topic is car crash… which I forgot to tack on to here. Did any of y’all notice? Did any of y’all write me about it?

LISA

A Missing Man.

It’s agreed – no one is uncomfortable. No one is really that distressed. Apart from some of us missing family, or pets, or partners the benefits of being here far outweigh the cons. It’s an odd thing.

Anything we want he brings us. I’d asked for pen and paper so am at last able to write this down. We agree it’s the not knowing why we’re here that worries us.

Strangely we haven’t seen him for a few days. We have enough snacks and drinks down here so we relax a bit more talking about him, knowing that he’s not listening.

RICHARD

WLTM

‘Good looking, thirty something blonde with GSOH would like to meet sane, solvent man, as a friend with benefits.’

The ad stood out amongst all the others. Unlike them, she didn’t come across as desperate, and I liked how it was short, snappy and to the point. She seemed confident. Just the kind of woman I liked, and the complete opposite of my ex-wife.

Messages were exchanged and a meeting was arranged.

The night of our date, I’ll admit I was nervous. Flowers… Chocolates? Check. Then the doorbell rang.

“Hi honey” HE said! “Ready to have a good time?”

LIZZIE

Love is such an illusive word. It’s not a word, she promptly said, it’s a feeling. And there I sat, wondering what she meant. She had never loved anyone and here she was, full of herself, pontificating about love. I just sat there, chain-smoking, which she hated. She pretty much hated everything about me. I’m not sure why she married me. In the end, love is such an illusive word, isn’t it? It just means that sometimes you do things for love. She wouldn’t have to suffer with my wrong-doings. That hammer was indeed sturdy, as promised at the store.

SERENDIPIDY

Fringe benefits, that’s what I call them. The sort of things that some would pay a lot of money for: Privacy, solitude and the contentment that I’m rarely going to be bothered by cold callers and strangers at the door.

And all I have to do to enjoy these benefits is to continue perpetuating the stories that circulate about ‘the mad woman in the corner house’.

My reputation goes before me, and people avoid me like the plague, which suits me absolutely perfectly.

It’s a great lifestyle and I have no complaints, which is more than my neighbours can say!

TOM

Progressive Rock

In 1970 my mother was the manager of the record dept at our local department store. So she got a 20% discount very cool. I bought Tull’s Benefit, think it was like $3.75. It was a bridging album pointing to what was to come. A little stretch into the creative process. If you hadn’t had Benefit it would have been unlikely Aqualung, Thick as a Brick, or A Passion Play would have seen the light of day. Paul Stump, in his History of Progressive Rock, said that Benefit ” offered the listener new bearings in his or her music search.

Carl

In 1921 the Czech playwright Karel Čapek coin the term robot from a Czech word for forced labor. His play R.U.R. Rossumovi Univerzální Roboti (Rossum’s Universal Robots) focus on the evils of corporate greed. The robots in RUR are more Blaid runner than Terminator. Organic structures from the dark landscape of eugenics. The Play was a worldwide success. In the American production Spencer Tracy and Pat O’Brien played robots. One critic described Čapek’s robots as epitomizing “the traumatic transformation of modern society by the First World War and the Fordist assembly line. O brave new world, That has such people in’t.

NORVAL JOE

The 911 operator continued, “I don’t know how it benefits you delinquents to waste first responders’ time and taxpayers’ money. You’re not wasting ours.” She hung up.
Billbert flew back to the meadow and low over the grass.
The shooter faced away, talking to the Black Knights.
Billbert crept over to the old woman. “Buhmilda?” He touched her side and she fell over, her glassy eyes staring blankly.
He went to Sabrina. She moaned. Blood oozed from the wound in her leg.
Billbert looked up to see Linoliumanda running to him.
The Black Knights were too busy talking to notice.

PLANET Z

The Benefits Department handles all the insurance and other stuff for the company.
They also offer referrals to legal services, relocation experts, and even one of those New Age Feng Shui weirdos.
So, I figured, why not?
This short bald man in a robe arrived in my office, walking around, and he lit incense and tapped a small gong.
Then some guys came to move all the furniture around until it was in harmony with the energy lines of the universe.
My productivity went up. My blood pressure went down.
Everything was great.
Until I tripped over the end table.

Weekly Challenge #928 – Position

The next topic is Benefits

LISA

A Chat

We talk seriously when we get back. I thought I’d smelled an open fire and I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I’d seen him watching behind the door. I wonder if I’m just enjoying recounting my adventure.

We all agree, we’re in an odd position. We’re prisoners, his prisoners but actually we’re all in an unlocked basement just because we don’t know what’ll happen if we leave.

I’m sure, at the start. He HAD locked the door. I want to talk about the other girls, the bodies that have been found, but I can’t.

A lot is left unsaid.

RICHARD

Seating plan

I always sit at the back of the plane.

Last row, aisle seat, no exceptions.

I think it’s the ideal position for surviving a crash.

Others disagree and tell me the seats next to the emergency exit are safer, better still, if they’re over the wing; but I disagree.

I prefer to have a solid bulkhead behind me, rather than bodies and debris flying through the air. And, let’s face it, if we’re going down, the tail is going to hit the ground last.

My employers disagree.

They think I should sit at the front… Like all the other pilots.

LIZZIE

The yacht was tired. The crew and the passengers were also tired. No radio signal.
The Captain looked at the First Officer. “Let’s rest here.”
Suddenly, something something “what’s your position?”.
“Captain, we need time to fix the hull.”
“We’ll stay here. Nice, tropical island. We’ll be fine.”
When the search party arrived, the locals snickered.
“Where are they? The yacht is right over there.”
The locals snickered some more.
No one was found.
However, there were some suspiciously fresh bones, hanging above the doors of the houses.
That’s when the search party decided to leave as quickly as possible!

TOM

By Grace Alone

When Timothy Cratchit graduated from Cambridge with honors in accounting, he was offered the position of junior partner by emeritus Chairman Scrooge. Along with his father CFO he became a strong supporter of the Abolitionist Movement in America. In 1878 he met Rev. John Parker and soon after set up an endowment in his adopted uncle’s name. There was a secret clause in the endowment as to the name of a future church. When Timothy died in 1890 he was buried in the graveyard of Ebenezer Baptist Church. On his marble stone is written the following: God bless us everyone.

Bleak Gadgets

John despite his creative output was a very convivial person. All the same his company produced Bleak Gadgets. Funeral parlors need products, John supplied them. The solar powered last words tombstone. The thermal lying In-wait body grid. Aurora Borealis Cremation Urns for Human Ashes Adult Female for Funeral, Burial or Home. Memorial Lantern Sympathy Gifts for Loss of Mom/Loved One Bereavement Gifts. Hydraulic Embalming Table High quality stainless steel, hydraulic foot pedals, locking wheels. The Viruserv VB Guardian electrostatic sprayer a workhorse that will help you disinfect your facility quickly, effectively, and with confidence The BioSeal Portable System fully contained

SERENDIPIDY

Put yourself in my position.

If I let you go, you’ll go straight to the cops, and I really can’t have that, can I?

So you may as well forget trying to persuade me otherwise, and focus instead on making things easier for yourself.

I may be callous and unfeeling, but I’m a reasonable person. Perhaps I can be persuaded to let you live?

And, if not, at least you can try to convince me that a quick, clean death is in everyone’s best interests.

If nothing else, you can say you gave it a shot.

Before I shoot you.

NORVAL JOE

From Billbert’s position above meadow he saw everything at once.
Sabrina lay with her leg off at an odd angle. Buhmilda knelt, bent over, clutching her stomach. The driver of the van swung his rifle upward and aimed at Billbert.
He flew toward town and punched 911 into his phone.
As soon as an operator answered, he shouted, “There’s an active shooter at Buhmilda’s meadow. Do you know where that is?”
“I do,” she replied.
Billbert said, “People have been shot. They need help. Send police and an ambulance.”
The operator scoffed. “Right. You’re probably just swatting the old lady.”

PLANET Z

There is nothing more dangerous than a dying animal.
What about two?
Lying in a pool of their blood.
Their teeth on each other’s throats.
Vultures circling overhead, scavengers surrounding the endless battle.
Waiting for their chance to pick apart the ragged corpses.
One after another, they creep forward and peck or sniff.
A growl sends them scuttering back.
None of them notice me set down my stool, unfold the easel, and begin to paint.
Brushstrokes of very fang, tooth, eye, and hair.
I finish, pack up my things, and walk away.
Who won? I don’t know.
Does it matter?

Weekly Challenge #927 – PICK TWO Bookcase, Verdict, Sprint, Crisp, Vulgar, Pregnant

The next topic is Position

That Erica Writes site I was talking about with Friday prompts (and she does a 50-worder where you write the last 50 words).

LISA

Escape

Someone whispered ‘Good Luck’ as we set off tiptoeing up the stairs, slow shaky steps away from our prison. We found ourselves in a narrow dimly lit corridor. The air smelled fresher up there: we had been locked up a while. The walls were lined with bookcases, like helpless moths we made for the light at the end of the passageway.

My nose twitched at the faint smell of a coal fire ahead. As we approached the floorboards, that had been as quiet as the grave, gave a bloodcurdling screech and we sprinted back to the safety of the basement.

RICHARD

Ikea? – I can’t!

“So, what do you think?”

I could tell from the pregnant pause, and the slightly embarrassed look on my wife’s face that my flat pack building skills could possibly need a little more work.

“Well… It’s a bookcase, of sorts”, she mumbled.

That was a bit of a blow.

“A bookcase? It’s supposed to be a bedside cabinet!”

“Ah”, she continued, “so what exactly is that other pile of wood and screws, then?”

“Spares!” I replied confidently.

She took my hand, and smiled solicitously, “Tell you what, love, why don’t we just buy a ready-made one from the store?”

ZACKMANN

After a Christmas dinner I opened my gift from my son to find I had received a DVD copy of “The Hogfather” which I had been hinting I wanted for a year and a half. I thought it would be cool that my future rewatches would be advertisement free. It could rest on top of the Pratchett paperbacks when not in the video player.

Not to be outdone, my son’s wife handed my wife, She Who Must Be Obeyed, her gift. My wife opened a framed picture of an ultrasound. I now expect my superhero name will be Grandpa Zackmann

TOM

October 25 1415

Our house is filled with bookcases. Floor to ceiling. Mostly pine with a few oak. It’s An eclectic collection from graphic novels to exploration of the Higgs boson. The complete works of Tolkien and the collected works of Shakespeare. While I have a soft spot in my heart for the Tempest the speech in Henry the V is wire in the blood. On field of Agincourt young Harry spoke:

Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,

From this day to the ending of the world,

But we in it shall be remembered;

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers

Bonanza

When I was growing up the number one program of TV was Bonanza. My Dad loved the show because during the war he met one of the actors. That was Dan Blocker. It’s pretty weird number of people my dad met during the war. Seems he got his front teeth knocked-out was actual written up for damaging government property. While in hospital he met a young Blocker recovering from wounds he sustained holding Pork Chop Hill. My dad remembered him as a gentle man in a huge body. He said he had size 14 boondocks. Dad always called boots boondocks.

NORVAL JOE

Mandi burst into tears. “We have to help those people.” She sprinted toward the meadow.
Billbert shot forward and caught her. “Wait. You don’t want to get shot too.”
The crisp chatter of semi-automatic gunfire continued from beyond the trees.
He pulled out his phone. “Darn. No connection.”
Billbert looked up at the sky. “Maybe I can get some bars above the trees. Stay here, please.”
Mandi wiped her nose with the back of her hand and nodded.
Phone in hand, Billbert shot above the trees.
The driver stood atop his septic tank service van, following Billbert with his AR-15.

TURA

Bookcase; Vulgar
———

My Library exists more outside this world than in it. Those who enter in search of a long-lost tome may find it, if their heart is pure, but otherwise only a spurious imitation. Those drawn by vulgar curiosity will find only vulgar curiosities. Those who seek enlightenment may find it, or something they take for enlightenment but which drives them mad. And those who seek to know how the Library came to be are never seen again, following reference after reference, ever deeper amongst the endless corridors of bookcases.

Therefore take care what you seek, lest you find it.

PLANET Z

Guilty. On all counts.
Of what?
Edgar sat in his cell, unable to remember anything.
Okay, he knew his name. But nothing else.
A man came to talk to him. His attorney, he said.
He was filing an appeal.
For what, asked Edgar.
His attorney stared at him.
Are you serious?
Edgar was moved to a hospital and doctors examined him.
Complete memory loss.
Not guilty due to mental incapacity.
He was a free man.
Free to do what, asked Edgar.
His attorney showed him pictures, told him all kinds of things.
But Edgar just sat there and breathed slowly.

CHATGPT

Amelia’s bookcase overflowed with tales, a kaleidoscope of worlds waiting to be explored. One day, she discovered a crisp, forgotten letter tucked among the pages. It held a joyous verdict – she was pregnant! Overwhelmed with happiness, she sprinted to share the news with her husband. Their laughter echoed through the house as they embraced the impending adventure. Amidst the excitement, they cherished the vulgar beauty of life, finding love in every moment. The bookcase, witness to their journey, stood sturdy and proud, a silent testament to the chapters unfolding within their own storybook life.

Weekly Challenge #926: Crack

The next topic is PICK TWO Bookcase, Verdict, Sprint, Crisp, Vulgar, Pregnant

RICHARD

Thin Ice

They told me I was skating on thin ice: that, one day, it would crack and I’d sink into the depths as a result of my foolishness.

I never listened to them. I was young and free-spirited; nobody was going to tell me how to live my life, and nobody had the right to tell me what to do.

I knew better than them.

Turns out, I didn’t. They were right, and I was wrong.

After the accident, they fenced off the pond, and put up notices saying ‘Danger: Thin ice’.

Nobody skates there now.

My cold, watery grave.

TOM

Too Smart by half

Billy was a precocious little prick. Most believed he was most likely to come to a bad end. He was the sort who told younger children Santa and the Easter bunny were made up by adult to con them into being good. Further he flaunted any nursey rhymes. he would proudly land his foot on every crack in the sidewalk. One day the universe was feed-up with the little M-F. When he stepped on Crack but it didn’t back his mother’s The sidewalk when medieval on his ass, broke him in half. Universe noted: that’s mother fucker’s back, putz.

843

Somewhere

I was born in the city but my parents thought moving to suburbs would be a wholesome environment for young children. Bad idea. The Suburbs sucked. At the tender age of six I was dropped in a place with no sidewalks. Rustic it was, countryfied. Problem you ask? Fear of God had been driven into me never leave the sidewalk into a street. cognitive dissonance, Hal 9000 landscape. Later in life it became the define element to my dwelling choices. Anywhere with sidewalk was fine by me. Yup lived in some pretty rough neighborhoods. Funny the stuff that defines us.

SERENDIPIDY

I wonder what will make you crack?

Will it be the electrodes to the genitals, pulling out your nails with pliers, or maybe the water torture will do the trick?

Or, perhaps you think those methods lack subtlety?

Maybe I should kidnap your family instead and send you their fingers through the post?

Or are you made of sterner stuff, well-schooled in the art of keeping silent, even under great adversity?

To be honest, it really doesn’t matter much to me… I already have the information I need.

I just want to torture you, for the fun of it!

NORVAL JOE

Something whistled past Billbert’s ear, followed a split-second later by the crack of a high-powered rifle.
Wide eyed, Buhmilda clutched her stomach and dropped to her knees. Another crack and Sabrina spun around, blood spurting from a wound in her thigh.
Mr. Trump (Buhmilda’s dog) ran and hid. The other guild members around the meadow fled.
Rapid fire followed Billbert as he grabbed Linoliumanda and shot straight up into the sun.
He angled back down to the forest and set her among the ferns.
“Are you okay, Mandi?” Billbert asked.
She nodded her head as shots continued in the meadow.

LIZZIE

It was an ancient building. The crack on the wall grew bigger. But he wasn’t going to let it crumble down on his watch. So, he filled the crack with cement. When the wall collapsed, he was in Aruba, sunbathing. Everyone was horrified. Cement? Apparently, bad cement, who would’ve thought. The horror! Who had done that? However, they did find a secret room with a long-lost treasure. So, he went back and bragged. Not a good idea. “But, what about the treasure? And a crumbling wall adds character!” He shouted while being dragged off to jail. To brag or not to brag.

PLANET Z

Every time I flex the finger in my left hand, I can feel a joint in the middle finger pop.
It’s not just an intermittent thing.
It happens every time I do it.
I open and close my hand a few times, pop pop pop.
It’s not a knuckle crack. It’s not loud.
It’s just something I feel.
I don’t know how long it’s been doing this, or what it means.
I never remember to tell the doctor about it.
I’m too busy with my weight, my diet, and everything else.
I just open and close my hand, and feel.

Weekly Challenge #925 – Pester

The next topic is Crack

TOM

Drive to distraction

My wife is a Family Nurse Practitioner. Damn good one imho. Early in all FNP careers’ is the lure of the prescription pad. The power to be a min drug cartel. The perks. In the old days lavish amounts of food delivered by perky drug rep-s. Enough Chinese takeout to chock a bull moose. And the industry itself in the veiled cover of a “lecture presentation” where samples are shelled out like gum balls. At some point the lure fades. This is driven by how most patients will pester them to death to get the goodies. Yes the lure fades.

The Big Board

There are few Scoreboards in the country that bring deeper reverence then the scoreboard in Wrigley Field. Watch the crowd after ever major play. All eyes inward and in a beat all eyes at the scoreboard. In Chicago it isn’t real until it’s on the scoreboard. The coolest part of the board is knowing ever change in a game near or far is shown on 35 pounds plates turned by hand. In the age of electronic, keeping score by hand gives considerable charm to the Wrigley experience. My dad was born in the shadow of that nearly century old scoreboard.

NORVAL JOE

They all followed Linoliumanda across the meadow. Sabrina alone, sneered. “That is so stupid. How can you be pestered by people using your given name?”
Linolimanda’s cheeks reddened. “It’s not stupid. Everyone should have the right to be called what they want.”
Just then, high pitched barking stole their attention. They all turned to see a little brown and beige dog that looked as much like an ewok, running toward them.
It was then that Billbert saw the Black Knights climbing from the sink hole.
Buhmilda clapped her hands and shouted, “Good dog, Mr. Trump! Everyone. Get the Black Knights.”

LIZZIE

Those YOU posters… YOU must apply. YOU must, YOU.
Wear something proper. Speak correctly. You don’t want to sound like a moron, do you?
No. But he didn’t want to be pestered all day long about a job he didn’t want either.
Look at that, the future of our nation, that poster says it all, aren’t you proud?
He was annoyed. Proud? No. So, he spent the whole night slashing them. The scandal! That’s how the I’m-Not-An-Asset movement started.
100 years later, employees were still an asset, in the worst possible way… He went from annoyed to angry, murderously angry.

SERENDIPIDY

I have one of those cards in my window, politely asking religious callers, salespeople, canvassers and politicians not to pester me.

It makes no difference of course. Either people can’t read, or choose to ignore my wishes.

That’s just rude.

So, I have no qualms about backing up my request with machine guns, machetes, and the pit of spikes beneath the welcome mat, should anyone choose to press their luck.

What’s more, nobody can say they weren’t warned.

It’s all covered in full: there, at the bottom, in the fine print.

Although, you probably didn’t bother to read that either?

LISA

A big ask

We realised shortly after asking for the pillows that he wasn’t the big bad wolf after all. We could just ask him for things. For many of us, used to pestering parents for bits, this was better than at home. Here we were seemingly getting every desire granted.

It was the natural next step really and this time I was nominated spokesperson, it was a wish we all shared. I thought long and hard about choosing my moment but then just blurted it out when he came down the next morning:

“Can we come out of the basement please? “

RICHARD

Leave me alone!

Internet ads don’t bother me, neither does spam email, mainly because I rarely see either. All taken care of, thanks to decent ad blocking software and spam filters.

Internet bliss!

The same can’t be said for my computer desktop. It seems that every app and programme feels the need to bombard me with nag screens on start-up, shutdown and random intervals during use.

If I want to upgrade, subscribe or trial new software, then I’ll do so – I don’t need you to pester me constantly.

In fact, the more you hassle me, the less inclined I am to do it!

PLANET Z

If I sit on the sofa for more than a minute, my cat runs to the sofa and jumps on me.
Claws out. Not good.
She will cling to my shoulder or circle a bit before laying in my lap.
It makes it hard to type or reach the remote or a beverage.
So I say GET DOWN and shove her aside.
She scampers off for a bit, then comes back.
This repeats until I put down treats or whipped cream on a plate.
She’ll eat, then find somewhere to nap.
Usually on my lap, repeating the cycle once again.

CHATGPT

In the desolate town, whispers of a cursed word, “pester,” echoed through the chilling winds. Locals spoke of a haunted book, its pages filled with unsettling tales. Curiosity consumed Tom as he uncovered the ominous volume in an ancient library. Ignoring warnings, he read aloud the forbidden passages, unknowingly inviting a malevolent force. From that moment, eerie shadows lurked, and unseen hands brushed his skin. The word “pester” etched itself on his nightmares. As Tom spiraled into madness, incessant whispers surrounded him. The town, now void of life, echoed with a sinister laughter—a haunting reminder of the relentless entity that pestered his very soul.