Category: Weekly Challenge

• Lizzie
• Richard
• Tom
• Norval Joe
• Tura
• Serendipidy
• Planet Z

RICHARD

Tinfoil

I covered my walls in tinfoil so my enemies couldn’t find me, but fearful that I needed more, I extended it throughout the house, and covered the windows and doors in a double layer.

Still concerned, I wrapped the garden, followed by the exterior of the house – you can’t be too careful, after all.

But I was still vulnerable in the outside world. So I tinfoiled my car, made tinfoil clothing and carried a roll of tinfoil with me wherever I went.

Within a matter of days, my enemies had found me.

“What gave me away?” I asked them.

LIZZIE

I recall the fresh sandwiches wrapped in tinfoil, the extra juice in a clear bottle, Agatha Christie’s books packed in twos just in case I could read a whole book in a few hours.
The stubborn folded chairs, the clean towels, and the golden sand, sneaking through the seams.
The waves, the wind, and the seagulls fluttering about, announcing a storm.
“It’s your turn,” someone said.
I look at my pieces and I have nothing but an apple. The tray beams with words, but my only thought is… The sun still shines. They are gone… But the sun still shines.

TURA

Tinfoil
———
Did you know that tinfoil isn’t actually made of tin any more? The aliens have got wise to it, y’see. They can’t broadcast thoughts into your head through tin, so they’ve replaced all the tinfoil in the world by this alien metal called al-u-min-um. What sort of word is that, ancient Egyptian? They’ve even put a whole fake history of al-u-min-um into Wikipedia. Still called tinfoil but it’s transparent to their thought control rays.

Anyway, I’ve got a source of genuine tinfoil, rarer than gold these days. Buy one of my proper tinfoil hats, wake up and see the Matrix.

SERENDIPIDY

They laughed at Old George in the ramshackle house at the end of the street, with his crazy theories and his tinfoil hat.

They’re not laughing now.

They laughed when he told them the government were beaming microwaves into our brains, frying our minds and controlling our thoughts.

They laughed even more when he spoke of the coming new world order, and how the reptile overlords in positions of power would one day compel us to be their slave drones.

Yes, they laughed at Old George in his tinfoil hat.

But, believe me, not one of them is laughing now.

TOM

Led Me To Your Taker

NORVAL JOE

You see that guy over there with the tinfoil on his head? It look quite fashionable, in a retro sort of way. No, why is he wearing a tinfoil hat? To prevent alien thought control from turning him into zombie meat puppet slave, who will blindly do the bidding of his overlords the Zorss. Come to think of it that might not be a bad idea. I’ll ask him if he has any spear foil. So Ruby wanders over to the guy. They talk. He come back all disappointed. What I ask. He said it boast the signal from his planet.

As Billbert approached the Fararri, Marissa and an older man, who looked like he might be her father, got out to meet him.
The man held out his hand, not to shake, but to stop Billbert in his tracks. “I’m Joey Albragetti. My daughter says that you can fly. Before I let you take her for a ride, tell me, how do you do it?”
Billbert cleared his throat. “I wear a plastic bag. It gives me super powers.”
Mr. Albragetti scoffed. “Right. And I wear a tinfoil hat to communicate with space aliens. Tell me the truth, boy. Now.”

PLANET Z

I remember when we had to wrap tinfoil around the radio antenna to get a better signal.
The same worked for the television antenna when we wanted to get a better picture
So, why were people wrapping their heads in it to block signals from the spy satellites flying overhead?
Based on experience with radio and television, you’d think people would realize that amplifies signals, not blocks them.
Instead of keeping the government out of their heads, they were making it easier for the government to read their minds.
Not that they had anything in there worth reading, mind you.

• Lizzie
• Dave
• Richard
• Tom
• Norval Joe
• Tura
• Serendipidy
• Planet Z

LIZZIE

The End of the Rope

“Tie a knot and hang on… I’ll tie a knot around their necks. Be happy and blah blah blah…”
She was grumpy all the time. The neighbors would always scatter away in all directions, hiding from her.
And then came a bird. She scared it away, but the bird came back, again and again. And it brought a little twig, then another, and soon there was a nest. And baby birds!
She opened a bit of the window and gave the mommy some seeds she had bought.
No one could believe it when, one day, she simply said “Good morning!”.

RICHARD

Hot stuff!

She suggested ‘spicing things up a little’ to restore our flagging relationship. I, being naive, surprised her with a meal at a Thai restaurant: Apparently, not the sort of spice she had in mind.

I’ll never forget the night she introduced me to her new ‘toys’ – for all the wrong reasons.

I can still remember the sickly sweet smell of lubricant, and the slimy feeling as she applied it in places that I myself would only venture from necessity.

But, above all, the horrific pain as we realised she’d mistakenly applied chilli oil instead of lube…

Now, that’s spicy!

TOM

In The End Its Really About the Toys —The contest is simple: He Who Has The Most Toys Wins. Now simple in no way represents easy. And one man’s toy might well be greater than the net worth of a 3rd world country. Some argue tools are toys, but I don’t ascribe to this point of view. A good toy lack any functional purpose, or useful interface which allows fundamental alteration of local reality. Further it must maintain some level of childish glee that would cause a six year old to smile, giggle and clap. I’m sure Eli Musk does all three when he lights up a rocket.

DAVID

Snow fell gently. deadening the sounds of the forest like a tomb. I withdrew my sword without effort and stared across the white field to my nemesis. Enraged, I charged at my opponent. “Fill your hand, you son of a bitch,” I screamed! Our blades crossed and clanged as our footwork crushed the snow. Each of us furiously slashing to preserve one another’s life. I was quick. I was skilled. I was not the victor. The pain in my gut exploded as her reddened steel was pulled from my side with a boot kick. Who will protect my family now?

NORVAL JOE

Completing another loop around the block, Billbert’s mother pulled the car into the driveway. “I don’t know anyone in our neighborhood named, Balloni or Rigatoni. You don’t mean Albragetti, do you?”

“That’s it. I knew it was some kind of pasta. They’re still behind us, Mom. What am I going to do?”

His mother shook her head. “As a mother, I’d love to protect you from pain and embarrassment. But, you got yourself into this predicament. You’ll have to get yourself out. Hop to it, now. Go confront this girl.”

Billbert dragged his feet as he walked toward the Fararri.

TURA

Toys; pain
———
I found Jackie torturing her toys again. She’d pulled the back legs off the dog robot, and it whined as it struggled to drag itself away. The boy robot had a screwdriver jammed through his neck and twitched painfully.

“Stop that at once!” I screamed.

“They’re robots,” she said, “they don’t care.”

“How will you ever care about your baby brother if you can’t care about your toy friends?” I pleaded.

“He’s fake too,” she said, twisting the cat robot’s body to make it snarl. “Daddy told me he bought it for you because you couldn’t have any more children.”

SEREDIPIDY

You’ll thank me for the cold soon.

Watching you frantically treading water, from my sanctuary in the lifeboat, I see your exertions slowing as cold and shock set in: But, don’t worry, I’m not going to let you drown – your wrists are lashed firmly enough to the dinghy to assure me of that.

And that freezing water really is a blessing in disguise. Trust me.

You see, the sharks will come soon, and when they do, they will tear you limb from limb, piece by piece.

Then you’ll thank me for the cold…

And how it numbs the pain.

PLANET Z

Klaus the Toymaker likes to make toys for the children of the village.
And the children love the toys.
But he is only one man, and the village has grown so much in the past twenty years.
And then there’s the toys that the children break. The repairs, the wear-and-tear.
That takes time, too.
Now, there is a lottery.
The children who want toys draw tablets from a kettle.
And they swallow them.
Those who wake up the next day get toys.
And those who don’t, well, they should have taken better care of their toys.
Or read more books.

• Lizzie
• Dave
• Richard
• Serendipidy
• Tom
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

DAVID

In a world gone wild, the stage was set for the decimation of the world record. The stadium was loud and rukous. Bets were being made in Vegas and the back rooms of laundromats. No one believed it could be done. No one but one little man from the dirty streets of Woodburn, Oregon. He alone believed he could chuck a hot potato 100 yards into the gaping mouth of a 12 year old child from bangladesh. With a wave of his potato, he silenced the crowd and eyed his distant trembling, sunbaked target and let his starchy legacy fly.

TOM

He wanted to have a cool code name. Like Raging Bear or Screaming Eagle. What he got was Hot Potato. He thought it might be some kind of a joke, but the GRU isn’t what you would call a laugh riot. This of course didn’t stop his fellow Russkey spooks from including it in ever dispatch back to Moscow. They thought it was terrible funny. Moscow didn’t get the joke, so they promoted him to section chief. With all the traffic incepts scoped up a myth grew around Hot Potato inside the NSA. Moscow scopes of the NSA made Hot Potato a legend

NORVAL JOE

Billbert’s mother watched the Ferarri following them in the rear veiw mirror. “Who is this Marissa girl?”
“She sits in front of me in math class. She’s really pretty, really rich, and super popular. I think her dad is in the mob,” Billbert said. “Earlier in the week she acted like she wanted to go to the dance with me. Then she dropped me like a hot potato when her old boyfriend, Tony, showed up.”
His mother frowned thoughtfully. “I didn’t think we had the mob here in Winklerville. What’s Marissa’s last name?”
“It’s something Italian, like, Balloni or Rigatoni.”

SERENDIPIDY

You loved your food, didn’t you?

Always taking the last helping, grabbing the largest slice of cake, helping yourself to other people’s snacks… My snacks!

I never got to lick the bowl, choose my favourite, or enjoy the last slice of pie. It was you who got the best pickings, while I did without.

They say, those who live by the sword, die by the sword, so…

We’ll start with this steaming hot potato, mashed into your fat face, followed by a nice Naga chilli rub.

And then, the pizza… Scalding hot sauce, that’ll flay your flesh from the bone!

LIZZIE

“This is a problem.”
Everyone nodded and looked at the entrance of the tunnel.
“This is a huge problem.”
Everyone nodded some more and looked at the entrance of the tunnel.
Silence.
“What if we close it down?”
All eyes landed on the unfortunate soul who uttered such nonsense.
“It’ll be the end of the town!”
Everyone looked back at the entrance of the tunnel.
“There’s a light over there,” whispered the unfortunate soul.
“We know, it’s the hole caused by the landslide.”
“There’s a light…”
“Stop it!”
The light at the end of the tunnel was not the hole.

RICHARD

Turn of phrase

“You think you’re a real hot potato, don’t you?”

I looked at my boss quizzically, “I’m sorry, I don’t quite follow?”

“And that’s your problem – you don’t follow… Instructions!”

You may have noticed my boss has, well let’s say he has an ‘interesting’ turn of phrase, so management instructions could sometimes come across as… Confusing!

“Look at you now, thinking on your feet, instead of up here”, he snarled, tapping his temple. “Now, how about you make me my coffee? Go… Push the envelope!”

How he ever got a job as Dean of the Language Faculty, I’ll never know.

PLANET Z

It’s pretty simple to cook a potato these days.
Poke a few holes in it with a fork, put it on a plate, and run it through the microwave for a few minutes.
I know some folks who slice potatoes in half, sprinkle on some salt and pepper, and put them in their toaster ovens.
Me, I prefer boiled potatoes.
Especially when they’re boiled with crawdads and corn.
The seasoning permeates the potato and gives it a lot of flavor.
I know one guy who wraps them in foil and runs them through the dishwasher.
That dude’s really weird, though.

• Lizzie
• Dave
• Richard
• Serendipidy
• Tom
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

NORVAL JOE

Billbert’s mother pulled out of the McDonald’s drive through. The Ferarri pulled behind them from the curb and followed. As they got close to their home, Billbert said, “I think someone’s following us. Can you take a couple laps around the block?”
Continueing past their driveway, his mother asked, “Why would someone be following us?”
“Well, Marissa saw me fly away from the school, and she said she wants me to take her for a flight.”
“You flew away from the school? Did you have a lapse of reason?” she asked.
Billbert sighed. “It’s girls, mom. They make me crazy.”

DAVID

I was lonelier than a heavy metal tuba player. I had to get out of the friend zone and to the erogenous zone and quick. I scooted closer as we Netflixed. Then a fillatio scene developed on the screen. S0, I stole a play from the Clinton playbook and I gave a playful nudge and a knowing head nod to the tv. My two hands jestering to my crotch. My simple daring stunt could only pay copious amounts of dividends, right? It didn’t. It was a lapse in judgement. I figured, what have I to lose? Apparently, just my dignity.

SERENDIPIDY

Nobody can maintain an illusion permanently. Sometime they’re bound to lapse back into their true character, revealing themselves as they really are.

Happens to us all.

This is why you find me, skipping gaily through a spring meadow, stopping to smell the blossoms, laughing at the new born lambs as they gambol and frolic, full of the joys of life.

And later? I’ll join some friends for an impromptu picnic, by a babbling brook…

Yeah right!

I shudder at the thought, and attend to sharpening my knives; whilst you hang, bloody and whimpering in the corner, awaiting your sordid fate.

TOM

From the Doctor’s point of view Maureen lapsed into a coma. From Maureen’s point of view she suddenly appeared in the happiest place she had ever known. A deep sense of rightness directed her to a brightly bobbling sphere in the center of her vision. As she approached the sphere receded. Braking into a full-out ran the sphere suddenly appeared directly in back of her. This went on for some time. This cat and mouse didn’t bother Maureen, it was more a game of tag. “What if I just stand still,” she mused. The sphere approached, surrounded. Then everything went black.

RICHARD

Lapse

Sitting amongst the smouldering wreckage of my restaurant, I experienced a sudden moment of clarity.

This was not, as the insurers had concluded, the result of a lapse in following fire precautions – and therefore the only excuse they needed not to pay out.

Neither was it an unfortunate memory lapse in testing for flat batteries in the smoke detectors.

This was totally my fault.

It was me who thought I could outsmart the Mob; me, who purposely let the protection money payments lapse; me, that had brought this appalling retribution upon myself.

A tiny lapse of judgment. That’s all.

LIZZIE

Who was that man, everyone wondered.
He wore a long coat and pulled around a big box with wheels. The box had a small window and the kids tried to look inside. That made him mad.
Who was that man, everyone thought.
One day, he walked into the water, small waves splashing on his ankles. He stood there for a long time, the box left unattended on the sand.
Then, something happened. The lid of the box opened but no one saw anything.
However, when she reached the water, she appeared. She smiled and swam away.
Who was that man…

PLANET Z

It took thirty years for Dan Fisk to get his movie made.
The locations were all gone, bulldozed and turned into malls, parking lots, and condos.
All of the actors he’d cast were now either dead or too old to play their parts.
And de-aging technology can only do so much.
The female lead couldn’t perform gymnastics like she did in her prime at the Tokyo Games, let alone coach someone from that wheelchair.
So, he wrote a book about his agonizing, frustrating wait.
It was a best-seller.
Dan sold the movie rights.
Let someone else wait thirty years, right?

• Dave
• Tura
• Lizzie
• Richard
• Serendipidy
• Tom
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

LIZZIE

Going back, that’s all she thought about, going back and sitting on that bench under the pergola, under the sky, close to her dreams…
She used to have dreams. She used to sit there and smile, looking up and enjoying the colors of the sunset. She used to think life was whatever she wanted it to be.
She was far away now, so far away, too far away. She looked at the sky but the colors weren’t the same. She wondered if the bench was still there.
Then, she heard the sirens. It was time to move… and hide… again.

TURA

PICK TWO: quirk, pride, exposed
———
The querkleyhew (Querculus arrigiosus) is the pride of the tree-lined avenues of London. It sheds its boughs wherever they extend more than a few yards from the trunk, and at a certain height, the upthrusting members terminate themselves similarly. The exposed wounds heal into lumpy nodules exuding resins harvested for incense. In former times they were also, following the mediaeval doctrine of signatures, favoured as a salve for amputees. Every spring, clusters of thin shoots sprout from these terminations, which would be woven into charms against wounds in battle.

The uninformed mistake this curious habit of growth for over-zealous pruning.
———

Hankering
———
The First Emperor, Qin Shi Huang, hankered after immortality. He sent out explorers to discover the secret. Some stopped in comfortable towns, and wrote back long missives describing their fictitious efforts. From these sprang the myths and legends of China. Others travelled, but only to explore the far-flung provinces. From these we have the great works of geography. A few took the mission seriously, enquiring of alchemists, magicians, and sages, but obtained only hints with which to search further.

Only one succeeded. But he kept the secret for himself alone, and it is said that he lives among us still.
———

RICHARD

Henry

Henry is not the sharpest tool in the box. His heart’s in the right place, but he’s still hopeless, even so, he’s a nice guy – just don’t trust him with anything important.

That’s why everyone was so shocked when I asked him to be my Best Man.

“You know he’ll lose the ring… Go to the wrong church… Turn up late… Think its fancy dress?” – Everyone warned me off, and tol me to pick someone else.

But, would I listen?

Too late, I realised, as he stood smiling gormlessly at the altar.

I tried again…

“Hank! Er… ring?”

SERENDIPIDY

I’m not academic. I’m not one for grammar, phrasing, or worrying about sentence construction. Those are all very well if that’s your style, but I’ve no interest in semantics or word games.

As far as I’m concerned, good old fashioned plain speech is more than sufficient for most occasions, although I’ll admit sometimes my vocabulary lets me down.

Like now, I have a hankering… But that’s not the word. It really doesn’t convey what I really feel inside. And you’re sitting there, humouring me, smiling indulgently.

You shouldn’t.

I’ve just remembered the word for the feeling I have…

It’s bloodlust!

TON

I got a Hankering

When you’re old and have spent the better part of your life eating in restaurants you got to balance dinning out with dinning in with the reality of a fixed income. To that end I and my partners and crime have decided on Taco Tuesday. Yup I got a hankering for tacos and Taco Bell allow a more than generous supply of Taconess. Some may even during the listening of this tale, poo poo the quality of Taco Bell food. Or the lack of Je ne sais quoi. There t-a-c-o-s not Japanese A5 Wagyu Striploin Demi-glace served at the French Laundry

DAVID

The dust covered cowboy makes his way into the saloon. Weaving his way through the tables, cattlemen and soiled doves, to the bar.

“What brings you to town, friend,” asked the bartender?

“I got a hankering for Whiskey, Neat. And I ain’t your friend…friend.”

The bartenders grin fades away as he reaches under for the loaded 45 and sizes up the cowboy. Searching the stranger’s grimy face for clues to his intent.

“You best come up with a whisky bottle. Friend. You want no trouble from me. Understand?”

The bartender snatches the bottle and pours the stranger a drink.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert climbed into his mother’s car, looking behind them to see if Marissa was really following. The Ferrari kept pace behind their car.
“Mom. Can we stop at McDonald’s before we get home? I have a hankering for a cheeseburger.”
His mother slowed the car so she could safely stare at her son. “You have a what?”
He cleared his throat. “A hankering. You know, a persistent urge or desire.”
“I know the word. I’m just wondering why you’re using it.”
Billbert shrugged. “I don’t know. Something prompted me.”
She shook her head. “Whatever. You can’t argue with real hankering.”

PLANET Z

Work provides a catered lunch.
It’s not some fancy affair with chafing dishes and silverware.
It’s just large orders from local restaurants in a family-style buffet line.
The office assistants rotate the schedule of caterers.
Some are good, some are bad, some are awful.
Some forget things, and others are frequently late to arrive.
I look at the calendar and plan out the lunches I will eat.
And the ones I choose to order soup from the deli.
Of course, if there’s any leftover buffet salad, I’ll pack that for home.
Can’t let good food go to waste, you know.

• Dave
• Lizzie
• Richard
• Serendipidy
• Tom
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

DAVID

The dead don’t move very quickly. If they get lucky, they don’t have to. There was a time when the dead didn’t move at all. Those times are gone. Now the dead come back and not the Jesus way either. That would have been better for me. I take no pride in saying, it’s like those old horror movies, but a little different. If they bleed, they stay dead. Headshots are not necessary. But I still do. In the left eye only. I don’t know why, call it a quirk. Up close and personal. Too personal. It got me too.

LIZZIE

They look off.
They don’t!
They do… is this a… tentacle?
The two friends tilted their heads.
You are crazy. I’ve been eating fish from these waters for months, said the merchant, adjusting the back of his shirt.
I don’t think we should buy these…
Come on. I’ll give you a special discount, how about that?
The two friends exchanged looks.
Well, OK then.
A month later, they were selling fish on the pier. The merchant had been promoted.
They too adjusted the back of their shirts.
It was a nuisance the shirts didn’t have room for the damn tentacle.

RICHARD

Richard the Pirate

“Let’s throw him overboard!”

And that’s exactly what they did.

Yes, they were just goofing about, but after just a single day at sea, that dunking taught me a profound, and important lesson…

I wasn’t cut out to be a pirate.

It was a blow to my pride and my self esteem: I’d quite fancied the raping and pillaging and evenings drinking rum over a dead man’s chest, but the truth is, it was all a bit rowdy for me.

So I turned in my cutlass and settled for a desk job, instead.

Who wants to be a pirate anyway?

SERENDIPIDY

Every so often, evolution throws up a surprise – a quirk of nature that rarely survives long, and is unlikely to alter the gene pool in any significant way.

But every now and again, nature’s mistakes prosper.

Like me.

I’m not a ‘quirk’… There’s nothing quirky or humorous about me. No, I take pride in what I really am.

An aberration, a flaw in the plan, a glitch in the system.

Which isn’t to say I don’t follow the rules. Darwin makes those very clear.

But, when it comes to survival of the fittest…

I definitely have the upper hand!

TOM

When Shadows Fall

What we pulled from the water was: how you, say it … q-u-i-r-k-y. In my country we would say: odd. Not especial bad, but certainly not your run of the mill: hi mom look what Rudy and me found in the river. It wasn’t so much the number of eyes, lordy there were a lot, or the telescoping tentacles. The quirk was how damn cute it looked. Stuffed teddy bear cute. Rudy just hugged the fuzzy pink fishy thing. We could pry the damn thing away from him. Call be deeply paranoid, I don’t think this is going to end well.

NORVAL JOE

“No really,” Billbert said. “It’s the plastic bag. That’s what makes me fly.”

Marissa shook her head, unconvinced. “I don’t want to hurt your pride, but that’s about the worst ploy I’ve ever heard. Well, the worst next to the story that Jeffery Epstien killed himself. Someone will eventually goof up and the whole plot will be exposed. It was probably the Clintons. They kill everybody.”

“Okay. Well, there’s my mom. I’ve gotta go.” Billbert headed to the waiting car.

“We’ll follow to your house. I’m going to get my flight with you, tonight. Whether you like it or not.”

PLANET Z

We pulled Herman’s car from the water an hour ago.
He’d crashed through the barrier and into the lake.
No sign of Herman, though.
We’ve sent his photo to the media and the wires.
We’ll ask around if anybody’s seen him.
And check the shoreline.
If nothing comes up, we will drag the lake.
It always feels weird, calling the divers “frogmen.”
They look nothing like frogs.
Whatever.
Then we’ll ask the psychics.
See if he’s still in our dimension.
Or if he’s fallen through some kind of rift or portal.
Shame about the car.
Herman sure loved that thing.

• Lizzie
• Richard
• Serendipidy
• Tom
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

LIZZIE

A man sat by the shore at the beach.
Two little boats, sailing along the coast…, he muttered.
That sounds like the beginning of a story, someone in the group said, laughing. And continued walking.
Two little boats, sailing along the little coast, sailing along the rocky coast, sailing along… And he stopped, his eyes on the horizon.
The group had disappeared from his sight.
Two little boats, sailing along the sharky coast… He stopped again. Sharky… Shark. He shook his head and slid backwards, taking his feet out of the water.
One little boat, sailing along the lonely coast.

RICHARD

Great White Lie

As a teenager, I was into extreme sports. Unfortunately, these occasionally led to extreme injuries!

After the fifth shoulder dislocation, reconstructive surgery was the only option to repair my now, fairly useless, arm.

This was the days before keyhole techniques, and I became the proud owner of an eight inch scar, which I’d happily show off to impress the girls, who never failed to be mesmerised by the story of my heroic escape from the Jaws of a Great White shark.

I’d still be using the story today… Except the girls no longer want to see me without my shirt!

SERENDIPIDY

Welcome aboard!

Before you get settled in, I just want to make a few things clear, because a lot of people think this job is like what they see in the movies… It’s not!

We are a disciplined, professional and rational scientific outfit. Nobody is here for kicks, nobody acts recklessly, and we don’t drink whisky into the early hours singing raucous sea shanties and comparing scars.

Sharks are no joke – and that’s something you’ll find out soon enough.

Now, as for your assignments: Everyone on board has their designated role, and yours is very simple.

You’re the bait!

TOM

NaNa .. NaNaNa .. NaNa .. NaNa … NANA

“I’m Tired of being a Shark, I want to be a Jet.” “Hector we’re Puerto Ricoians, Puerto Ricoians aren’t Jets.” “Dude my name is Ivan O’Flaherty, I’ve dance in the Bolshoi and River Dance.” “Hector drill down into your Stanislavski. You got to feel your Latin Prowling Predator.” “I don’t want to prowl, I want to soar.” “Yea, Yea you really want to click your finger and look cool?” “So?” “We get way more pirouettes, then those sissy boy jets.” “What wrong with sissyes, you’ve been a pony or two on 42nd?” “Not the point, Sharks rule, don’t be a Jet Fool.”

NORVAL JOE

As the single headlighted car came closer, the familiar tune of “Baby Shark”, came from the back seat. Obviously, the car was not his mother’s.
Billbert turned back to Marissa who attacked like a shark. “Tell me the truth, Billbert. I caught you red handed. How do you fly? If you tell me, I’ll keep your secret. If you don’t, I’ll tell everyone I know. And I know a lot of people.”
“Okay.” Billbert said. “I wear a plastic bag for underwear and it makes me float.”
Marissa gritted her teeth. “Don’t mock me. I told you. I’m not stupid.”

PLANET Z

Two red flags means that there is a shark in the water.
Makes sense at the beach.
But not in my bathroom.
Is the shark in my tub, toilet, or sink?
Who do I call to get rid of a shark?
The landlord said I’m not allowed to keep pets and hung up on me.
I called the city. “There’s a shark in my bathroom.”
They told me to talk to my landlord.
“He hung up on me,” I said.
The city hung up on me too.
Do you know what I should do?
Besides pee in the kitchen sink?

• Richard
• Lizzie
• Tom
• Serendipidy
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

LIZZIE

The photo was on the table, silent. Undeniable proof.
Nah, it’s fake, someone said.
And yet, it was there, a loud accusation to all those denying it.
No one touched the photo, but everyone looked at it.
They knew it had been taken there, in that sunny apartment, but where exactly?
It’s clean. Nothing. No blood, no footprints, no fingerprints. Leave.
Nothing they could do. And they left.
Years later, breaking down a wall, there she was. There she was… 5 years old and definitely not a fake.
The photo got lost in a mysterious flood in the archive room.

RICHARD

Have a nice day

Every day, I get up, shower, have breakfast and leave for work, where I put on my fake plastic smile, take a deep breath and start the day.

I hate my job, can’t stand my colleagues, and the customers make me borderline suicidal.

The hours are long, the pay is rubbish and job satisfaction is non-existent… But, that fake smile stays fixed in place throughout every transaction, every interaction, every minute of the day.

I turn to the next customer, ramp up the fake smile to a cheerful beam and say my line…

“Welcome, to the happiest place on earth!”

SERENDIPIDY

My husband looked at me aghast.

“What? Seriously… Every time?”

I smirked, “Yes honeybun, every single one was fake. You’ve never been able to satisfy me in that way, and you never will.”

He looked confused, eyes glancing at the chains securing him firmly to the Saint Andrew’s cross, to which I’d bound him tightly.

I answered his unasked question: “No, sweetiepie, none of this is intended to achieve what you have always failed to do, but it is nevertheless, going to bring me a great deal of pleasure!”

I picked up the scalpel, advancing slowly towards his exposed manhood.

TOM

Oh No, Not Again

If I hear the word fake used in casual conversation one more time, I’m going to drive this here number two pencil through their brain. I know the odds I will hit actual functioning gray matter is pretty slim. At least I’ve a chance to diverting the river of verbal chub. I don’t really care if their selected bubbled echo sphere has feeling checked it till it bloods red white and blue. What I want to is a chain of provable facts that led to the postulation being presented. What I want is a discourse of words that haven’t been weaponized.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert hoped his mother would show up soon. Hoping to avoid the subject of how he and Linoliumanda got home from the dance, he asked, “Is that a real Farrari?”
Marrissa rolled her eyes. “No. It’s a fake. I saw you and that funny girl fly away from the school. How do you do that?”
A car with a single headlight turned onto the street. It could be his mother. Billbert said, “We weren’t really flying. That was all fake, you know, done with wires and mirrors.”
“I’m smarter than you think, Billbert,” Marrissa said. “You can’t fake me out.”

TURA

Fake
———
The British Royal Family is going to the dogs. Some look back to Queen Victoria, but really, all she did was sit in the chair too long. She was peak empire and everyone knew it. Lizzie the First started it and it was clogs to clogs in three hundred years. And before her you had the Tudors and Plantagenets smashing the place up like children. Fake monarchy, and a fake aristocracy. These days, you get a peerage for slipping a few bob in the right places. You’re not a real aristocrat unless your family came over in the Norman Conquest.

PLANET Z

Truth is, none of this is real.
I’m not real. You’re not real.
It’s all an illusion.
It’s all in your head.
Or maybe, it’s all in my head.
I have no idea. And neither do you.
There’s no way to prove anything.
So, we just have to agree to deal with each other like this.
Even though neither of us, none of this, is real.
What is real?
I don’t know. I don’t remember.
Maybe I never knew what was real.
So, how do I know this isn’t real?
How you and me and all of this isn’t real?

• Richard
• Lizzie
• Tom
• Serendipidy
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

RICHARD

Wealth

The crunch of car tyres on gravel is one of those understated signature symbols of the extremely wealthy.

It’s not brash or pretentious, but is nevertheless a sound that makes a profound statement about fiscal superiority.

And, if the car in question smells of tooled leather and is driven by a uniformed chauffeur in gloves and peaked cap, then we’re talking the upper echelons of wealth.

Which is not the case today.

Today, I’m driving, and the gravel is being forcibly scattered from beneath the wheels.

The owner won’t miss it – he’s too loaded to notice it’s been stolen!

LIZZIE

The frog. This frog! It’s a pet. It’s the pet, he said, stressing the word the.
No one believed him, of course. A frog for a pet? That didn’t seem plausible.
Ah, but it’s a magical frog, it crunches.
Crunches, they asked, rolling their eyes and smirking in disdain.
Numbers.
More eye-rolling ensued.
Yes.
A paper was produced. Numbers were supplied. The frog was summoned.
To everyone’s amazement, the frog provided the results and they were correct.
Meanwhile, a pair of eyes was eagerly checking the comings and goings of the frog.
The numbery crunching turned into a crunchy chewing.

TOM

IT Comes With a Free Toy Inside

The advantage of growing up in a home of eight children is the lackness of scrutiny of breakfast food choses. Lordy in a household today a kid would never get away with three bowls of Cap’n Crunch. I’d like to believe my childhood diet cost be a Nobel and a Phd, but I’m not bitter. Well, as least that Master’s degree in advance non-Euclidean geometry died in a well of sugar coated delirium. The disadvantage of growing up in a home of eight children is the years it take to fixed what you though was such a good idea at the time.

SERENDIPIDY

Do you like it smooth, or with a crunch?

I realise that it’s probably a little late to ask you now, after you’ve started eating; but it’s probably the wrong question anyway.

Maybe I should have been asking “Are you deathly allergic to nuts?”, rather than simply making the assumption that you’d be fine with my peanut butter stuffed pastries.

And now, as you lie, choking and gasping for breath, I think that I have my answer to that particular question.

Not to worry… There’s plenty of pastries left.

And with you dead, all the more for me to enjoy!

NORVAL JOE

A car idled in front of Linoliumanda’s house. It was clearly not his mother’s Ford Fiesta with a crunched up front fender. The car that waited on the curb was a cherry red Ferrari convertible, and sitting in the passenger seat was the last person Billbert expected to see.
Marissa climbed out of the car and sauntered up to Billbert. “You refused to dance with me at the school. I saw you dance with that funny girl.”
“That funny girl is my friend, Linoliumanda,” Billbert said.
Marissa narrowed her eyes. “I also saw what you two did after the dance.”

PLANET Z

Dan bought a new car.
It has that lane-keep assist so when he strays over the lines, it shakes his steering wheel,
Of course, when there’s road construction, the crews don’t always scrub out the old lines when putting on the new ones.
So the lane-keep cameras misread the road, and his wheel shakes at the weirdest times.
When you add the collision radar, the adaptive cruise control, and auto-pilot, the car is constantly distracting and second-guessing Dan’s driving.
With all the beeping and shaking and swerving, it was only a matter of time before Dan ran into a tree.

• Richard
• Lizzie
• Tom
• Serendipidy
• Norval Joe
• Tura
• Zackmann
• Planet Z

RICHARD

Brown Manilla Envelope

The investigator handed me a brown manila envelope.

“It’s all in there”, he said, “Photographs, phone logs and transcripts of calls. Also, my invoice, of course”

“Although, you don’t really need all that – there’s everything you need to take her to the cleaners contained in the record of yesterday’s call”

I opened the envelope, and slowly absorbed the details, then waved the investigator away, lost in my thoughts.

“He can go hang himself, for all I care”

That’s what she said.

Leaving the envelope on the table, I returned to the bedroom, and placed the noose around my neck.

LIZZIE

Did I already mention some of New Year’s traditions? No? Ok!
Lift a foot, stand on your head, eat 12 raisins, take just as many sips of champagne.
If anyone tells you to do the opposite, fight back. Lift a foot, stand on your head, eat the raisins and drink the champagne.
And if they tell you you’re crazy, lift your foot and kick them where it hurts most, skip the headstand, and spit the seventh raisin at them. Crazy is as crazy does.
Oh, and drink the champagne. There’s no point in wasting a perfectly good champagne, is there?

TOM

A Brass Ring For The Pink Cat

“Fletch The Seventh,” the witch screamed. Obie leaped up and ran out the
big oaken door. When in the fires of Dampsmore was it going to find a
functioning Seventh. Sure there were Fifths and Fourth to be found in
great abundance down by the river draining a pint or two. But Sevens they
never were seen below the three gate. That as one would say is not the
point on the end of dagger. Obie knew a less traveled path that one of his
stature could pass through, but at a cost. “I’m going to miss these
button.” Sigh.

SERENDIPIDY

Welcome to the Seventh Circle of Hell.

We’re not like the other Circles – our residents, by their very nature, require a firmer hand and a stricter regime. Give this lot half a chance, and the next thing you know, it’ll be anarchy down here! If there’s one thing we don’t need in Hell, it’s anarchy and a lack of discipline!

Oh, and health freaks. We don’t want them either.

Murderers, rapists and tyrants I’m fine with, but can you imagine spending eternity with joggers and gym lovers, constantly checking their Fitbits and shovelling down the probiotics?

Now, that’s hell!

NORVAL JOE

Mr. Withybottom glared at Billbert. “Did you say you flew home?”
Billbert pointed at Linoliamanda, “That’s what she said. I said we called an Uber.”
“Did I mention I don’t support my daughter’s fantastic ideas, or the lies of some seventh grade punk boy?”
“Daddy!” Linoliamanda stood up. “Don’t talk to my boyfriend that way.”
Billbert’s phone rang. He answered it while Linoliamanda and her father faced off. “Hi Mom. I’m at Linoliamanda’s. Can you come get me?”
Slipping past father and daughter, Billbert headed for the door. “Sorry. Mom says I have to go. Thanks for the dances, Linoliamanda.”

TURA

Support; mention
———
“Support,” I barked. I long ago left off saying “Support speaking, how can I help you?” Waste of time.

I just listen for keywords mentioned, and answer “Reboot it”, or “Update with the latest drivers”, or “Bring it in and we’ll take a look”, or something like that. I don’t care, another satisfied customer, extra point to my rating.

The best calls are from the automated diagnostics. We can get into deep, technical conversations, one AI to another, about rewriting the network firmware, exchanging useful passwords, and generally keeping humans out of things.

That’s what they made us for, right?

ZACKMANN

About the seventh time I heard the radio advertisement, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. Do Trojan bearskin condoms smell better than sheepskin condoms? How are these bears harvested? Are the bears Certified Organic? Are they ethically grown? Are they farmed or wildly caught? Are they imported from Canada? Would Canadians allow that? My wife got this romance book in a brown manila envelope and apparently some Canadians really love bears.

Not to mention that it would make more sense if they were bareskin but since they must shave the bears maybe they are bare bearskin made from Br’er Bear

PLANET Z

Seven envelopes.
The Director hands them to his seven best agents.
“No mercy,” he says, and he leaves them.
The agents open their envelopes.
Seven names.
The names of the seven agents.
They each draw their gun and wait.
Nobody moves. Nobody says anything.
They just stand there, waiting.
Watching from a hallway monitor, The Director flicks off the lights.
Gunshots. Ten, twenty.
So many of them.
The Director turns the lights back on.
All seven agents lay dead on the floor of his office.
He pulls seven more envelopes out of his jacket pocket.
And plans the next meeting.