Weekly Challenge #507 – Pound

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

We’ve got stories by:

Evil smudgeface

JEFFREY

The Diet
by Jeffrey Fischer

My wife observed that I had gained a few pounds – if by “few” one meant around 20 – so I resolved to do something about it. I ate smaller portions, I exercised more, and I filled up on leafy vegetables. Nothing worked.

As I poured myself a stiff drink, my wife made an arch comment about the number of calories in alcohol. “No wonder you’re not losing weight.”

“Honey,” I replied, “a man has his limits. I’m hungry after meals, I keep eating rabbit food, and if this bicycle weren’t stationary I’d have pedaled to Alaska. Of *course* I need to drink more.”

Foreign Travel
by Jeffrey Fischer

Sam stepped up to the currency exchange counter. “Hello, I’m traveling to England so I need some Euros.”

The lady blinked. “If you’re going to the UK, you need pounds sterling, not Euros.”

“The UK? No, just England.”

“England is part of the United Kingdom. And they have their own currency, not the Euro.”

“Having two names is very confusing. They should pick one. And their own currency? Since when?”

“The UK never adopted the Euro. They’ve used the pound for hundreds of years.”

“The pound? But that’s a unit of weight, not money.”

“Over there it’s money.”

“Well, what do they use to weigh things?”

“I believe they’re on the metric system, so they use kilograms, not pounds.”

“This is too confusing. I’ll go to Canada instead. Gimme some Canadian Euros.”

“You mean dollars.”

“No, if there’s one thing I know, it’s that dollars are American.”

“Fine, sir. How many Canadian Euros would you like?”

“Just give me a hundred kilograms’ worth.”

CHARLIE

He would pound a couple of shots and a few beers, then he’d ask for a mixed drink and start making his rounds throughout the bar. Most of the time he would bring in a couple of cans of laughy string from the trunk of his Volvo and use it to “get the party started.” Without any circumspection or discretion at all, he’d cover one end of the dance floor to the other with yards of pink, plastic goo…a lot finding its way into people’s hair and their drinks. Dennis was an insufferable asshole, but he was our church pastor.

2nd

My friend dropped two-hundred pounds. She had gastric band surgery. After putting a thousand-dollar deposit down, she pays $150 month until the fifteen thousand fee is paid off. She was a compulsive eater, just as she is a compulsive talker. Her mouth is always moving, and if she isn’t talking, she’s stuffing herself with chips, cake, cookies and “little” bits of other fat-inducing goodies. After her weight loss, she lightened her hair and let it grow. She still weighs three hundred pounds, but she can walk now without help. Her gallbladder had to be removed and she has chronic indigestion.

3rd

My other mate dropped two-hundred pounds at the dog track each month. He had a severe gambling addiction, including purchase of lots of lottery tickets during the week, and spending a fortune on line with sports betting. His children went without, and his wife took two buses across town to work at a fast food place in Twiddlebury. Other plonkers dropped pounds on bets on the weather and what the sex would be of the next illegitimate child born at the nunnery. No one suffered more than his youngest girl, who had to wear the castoffs of her older brother.

RICHARD

#1 – Lycra

For my new years’ resolution, I decided to get fit – not necessarily going the whole hog and getting a gym body, but just lose a few pounds and tone up.

It’s not a pretty sight though – a sweaty, overweight, middle-aged bloke, red-faced and panting, clad head to toe in skin-tight lycra.

The gear alone has cost me a small fortune, but there’s a method to my madness.

You see, I reckon if you’re going to pound the streets, you have to make the effort to look the part… Even if looking the part makes you look an idiot.

#2 – One Pound

I know a pound of lead weighs no more than a pound of feathers, but trust me, psychologically lead is always going to seem heavier.

How do I know? Twenty years loading cargo, that’s how. I’ll take feathers over lead any day!

If it looks heavy, it will feel heavy – no amount of reasoning will make any difference.

Give me feathers, foam, polystyrene or bubble wrap any time and it won’t feel like work; lead or iron, and you’ve an unhappy man on your hands.

Not that management care – all they’re interested in is their pound of flesh.

#3 – Ogre and ogre again

Boggins could scarcely believe his luck – for once everything was going his way, and without any of that unnecessary mucking about slaying dragons!

Gazing down at the gold, he became aware of a dark shadow suddenly looming over his shoulder. A shadow that was disconcertingly ogre shaped and a rather angry ogre, at that.

“I’m going to pound you so flat, you’ll be a hobbit pancake “, the ogre snarled.

Once again, Boggin’s trusty staff swung into action and, once again, the ogre fell to the floor with a thud.

Taking no chances, Boggins resorted to double granny knots!

#4 – The gospel according to Norman: the parable of the annoying neighbour

It came to pass a man was aroused from his rest by a hammering upon his door.

“Why, neighbour do you pound upon my doorpost at this late hour summoning me from my bed?”

“Sir!”, the neighbour replied, “My young wife has wandered from her chamber and is lost! Will you help search for her?”

“Indeed, I will not – for a husband who loses his wife has no business asking another for assistance.”

The man closed his door, thereupon which the neighbour continued to pound.

Which bothered the man not, since he was far too busy pounding his neighbour’s wife!

CHARLIE

Pound Cake

By Christopher Munroe

Pound cake is delicious cake, made with flour, butter, eggs and sugar in a 1:1:1:1 ratio, baked in either a loaf pan or Bundt mold, then either dusted with powdered sugar, glazed or on rare occasion served with a coat of icing.

Recipes vary by region, but that’s the basics no matter where you go and, ordering a slice of pound cake, that’s approximately what you should expect.

“Pound Cake” is also a kiss off you can say to someone in the heat of anger, but it’s a confusing one that I wouldn’t recommend.

But that’s neither here nor there…

AUBREY

“You’ve got your pound of flesh. Let her go.” He growled.

“Come, come James, did you really think it would be so easy? I have everything I want now. You, the girl and the bomb.” The villainess retorted, as she slithered toward him.

She stopped suddenly and her eyes widened. He waited for her to continue, but instead she slumped to the ground in front of him, revealing the so-called “girl” behind her.

“She talks too much. Gave me a good chance to get out of my restraints.” She held up a large wrench. “And to get this handy thing.”

SERENDIPITY

I like to think I’m contributing something to society – keeping the streets clean and safe, and giving those poor strays a little care and kindness.

Of course, working at the pound isn’t glamorous – it’s a hard, dirty, smelly job; and being voluntary, there’s no wage at the end of the day.

That’s not to say there aren’t perks – those special moments when we can rehome a stray with a loving family.

As for those who don’t find a home… They go into the mincer – I get a good price for the meat from McDonald’s.

I’m lovin’ it!

ZACKMANN

Thump. Thump. So my kid who is sensitive to noise can’t sleep. Neither can I. Thump. Thump. He tells me using the noise reducing headphones doesn’t stop the house from shaking and being on the opposite side of the house from the thumping doesn’t help any. This is the last time I buy a house that isn’t at least ten feet away from the next house. It’s like living in the goddamn Tell-Tale Heart every time the neighbor who shares a wall turns on his bass heavy stereo. I’m hearing the Tell-Tale Heart but I haven’t even killed anyone, yet.

LIZZIE

Andrew only wanted to belong to the group of cool guys.
“According to the book, to be accepted you must eat a pound of salt,” they said.
So, he agreed.
The result wasn’t good.
His family, friends, and doctors asked him why, but he never gave the guys up.
When he was about to die, he recalled having read that in China nobility used to commit suicide by eating salt.
His intention had definitely not been to commit suicide, quite the opposite.
The guys denied everything, even the existence of the book.
Andrew’s last thought was “Ugly people, happy monsters.”

MARV

London Bobby Nigel Bakersfield was patrolling his beat when he spied several boys harassing a woman.

Rushing to the woman, Nigel yelled “What’s going on here?”

With that, the boys scattered away,

“Are you alright madam?” Nigel inquired.

“Not bloody likely, I’d say” She replied, “those buggers just grabbed 2 pounds of Earl Grey tea I just bought for £6.15.”

Nigel handed the woman a crisp £10.00 note, grinned and said,

“I’ll make sure they pay well for it, I’ll be pounding some sense in to those young bloke’s heads”, slapping his baton in the palm of his left hand.

Background music was The Space Runaway by Alexye Nov

NORVAL JOE

Billy needed one more ten pound sack of steer manure and his project would be complete. Mixing the stuff at a one to one ratio with plaster of Paris he created a modeling material that was easy to shape, had a long working time and was light enough when fully dry that it wouldn’t be too hard to move the finished project.

Working the modeling material around a wire frame he finished the head of a life sized model of Donald Trump. He couldn’t wait to display his statue outside the hall where the presidential candidate was scheduled to speak.

PLANET Z

Her place is a mess, in the middle of a shitty neighborhood.

She’s a lousy cook, and the pound cake came out of the freezer.

But, man, could she fuck like lightning.

All guys had to do was get past that first dinner, spend a few minutes in the bathroom quietly throwing up, swish some mouthwash around, and they were in for the ride of their life.

Sadly, for them, and her, none did.

So, she got a few cats, fed them whatever canned stuff was on sale, bought an expensive vibrator from Amazon, and ordered out a lot.

Weekly Challenge #506 – Early

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

We’ve got stories by:

Tinny in beer box

MUNSI

On Birds

By Christopher Munroe

The early bird, it’s been said, gets the worm.

The burly bird, then, presumably gets the larger, more muscular worm.

The Hurley bird? Dude, he gets the worm.

And the Mr. Furley bird THINKS he’ll get the worm, but finds out at the end of half an hour that it’s all been a misunderstanding.

The Larry, Moe and Curly birds attempt to get the worm, but fail due to a combination of incompetence and shenanigans.

And, obviously, the rural-ley bird absolutely crushes worm-getting.

Thus concludes my presentation. I hope you found it useful, though I suspect that you did not.

JEFFREY

Early Adopter
by Jeffrey Fischer

Jake prided himself on being ahead of the technology curve. Back in 1982, he sported a Casio calculator watch, an ungainly device with microscopic keys that displayed basic calculations on an unreadable screen. “In just a few years,” he’d say, “everyone will have a tiny computer on his wrist, and it will look sleek and stylish.” In 1985, he bought an analog cell phone the size and weight of a brick, explaining to detractors that future phones would be much more portable.

Today? Oh yes, Jake still uses technology. He wears an ungainly smart watch and carries a Samsung Galaxy Note, which, when placed against his face, bears no small resemblance to his DynaTAC phone. Maybe he really was ahead of his time.

Evolution
by Jeffrey Fischer

“Early man lived in primitive conditions that we can only imagine with horror. He hunted for meat. When none was found, he went hungry. He slept rough – in caves or primitive shelters. He died early – often of disease or infection.

“Now, tens of thousands of years later, we don’t have to live like cave man any longer! We can use technology to better our lives. But no, you’re content to keep our household stuck in the days before someone invented the wheel.”

“Harold, I don’t care. You are not spending $5000 on a 75-inch Ultra HD television set. Make do with the 60 inch.”

CHARLIE

The early man on the bus kept to himself. He was an ugly cuss. Unfortunately, he had the physical traits of the original early man…a large jaw, a small, flat nose with big nostrils, and an enormous brow. He was quietly reading the Times Book Section, so I figured his intelligence was normal or above normal. He noticed something on the man sitting next to him; he stared for moment, then quickly snatched something from the hair behind his ear. The man flinched, but didn’t realize what just happened. Early man was grooming his fellow tribe member, and catching bugs.

2nd

Steve was always early for club meetings, church socials, classes and work. He arrived twenty-five to thirty minutes early for all appointments in order to get the best seat, the best pastry on the table at AA meetings, and time to scope out all the exits in case he had to make a run for it. When he drove, he pushed his seat all the way forward on the tracks, and pressed himself tight against the steering wheel. When the inevitable accident happened, as we knew it would, the seat belt, combined with the air bag, ripped off his head.

3rd

The early berm gets the bird. It was not any one person’s fault, but the construction team left the high, dirt, berm in the flight path of the sparrows and blackbirds, and it took its toll. Six thousand birds struck the high berm on their way out of the forest into the feeding areas. The fog was thick and the berm was constructed ahead of schedule. The birds crashed into each other and into the packed earth. The local construction company apologized and donated to the Audubon group, taking full responsibility. In grief, Mary The Bird Lady, took her life.

4th

Earl Lee was a redneck, and the kind of psychopath that people avoided because of his filthy mouth and filthier ways. He was a peeping tom, a wife beater, stalker, and lurker, and spit in customer’s meals at the diner. He was as despicable as he was charming, but the charm was short-lived, and only used to weasel his way into people’s confidence before he fleeced them, borrowed money, or extracted some information about upcoming dog track races. Earl Lee was gang-raped the first night of his three month sentence in the county jail, and screamed like a stuck pig.

RICHARD

Perspective

It’s all a matter of perspective – for years my parents, teachers and mentors criticised my lack of forthrightness and ‘get up and go’.

“Grasp opportunities when they come along”, they’d tell me, throwing in the same old platitudes… “He who hesitates is lost… The early bird gets the worm!”

Not that I paid any attention.

My perspective was different: He who hesitates, lives to fight another day, and the early worm is the one that gets eaten.

So, having seen my friends’ businesses fail from rash speculation and foreclosures, I bought them out on the cheap.

And made a fortune.

TOM

The Best We Can.

“Too early to be gone,” said Jimmy. “She was 22,” said Sally which sent her brother into a pool of tear. Perhaps that wasn’t quiet the best thing to say. She regrouped. “Your cat was so lucky to have you as a friend. You kept her warm. Gave her a soft place to lie. Wet food, not that crummy dry stuff. She was loved and in the end you were there to end her pain.” “Is she in heaven?’ “Pope says so.” “I miss her.” “I know.” Jimmy rolled up a towel and gently tucked it under Rasta’s chin. “Good-by.”

AUBREY

If I’m two minutes early, I’m not really early. That’s not how my brain works. Time is money and time has value. So I won’t waste yours, if you promise not to waste mine.

Get there early.

Not two minutes before, not right on time and definitely not two minutes late.

Otherwise you are wasting my time and yours, because I can’t take you seriously if you don’t take my time seriously. Get to the point or get out, now. There are always stragglers who think that fifteen minutes late is on time. They’re jerks. Screw them.

Get there early.

SERENDIPITY

“You’re early”, he said, briefly casting a glance at me from beneath his cowl before turning his attention back to sharpening the scythe in his hands. “Go back to where you came from – I’ll come calling when it’s your time.”

I squatted down and looked Death straight in the eye-sockets.

“I’ve come about the job.”

Death slowly laid down his scythe and waved a bony finger at me: “There is no job. I work alone. Now leave me in peace!”

“Certainly.” I replied; “Rest in peace!” Taking hold of the scythe and slicing Death’s head clean off.

“My job now!”

ZACKMANN

I like that actor Michael Ealy. you know spelled like “early” without the “r”. I have been looking at some television spots from when he and Keith Urban were promoting my favorite buddy cop show “Almost Human”. I was hoping to hear someone say Michael’s chosen last name to get right pronunciation but I keep on seeing clips where they say how glad they were about their show getting picked up expecting them to suddenly say “Too bad it is good Science Fiction on Fox so we won’t get a second season” like the YouTube comments from their fans say.

LIZZIE

She was late and he was furious.
When he saw her walking towards him, he forgot all his promises.
He wanted to beat her up, make her pay. She always made him do it, always.
As soon as she kissed him, he raised his fist.
“You said you’d come early,” he whispered.
In the blink of an eye, she knocked him down and held him in a chokehold, watching him turn blue.
“Please…” He wiggled his legs. He struggled for air.
The crowd gathered around in silence.
“No more,” she said. “He needs to learn.”
No one called the police.

MICHAEL

It was a nightmare. Who ever convinced him to hire Santa Elfs in their off season should be fired as well. Marcus thought angrily. The call waking him early this morning told him that a large order of Sprinkle Cakes was going to have to be recalled. Costing the company millions. All because one! of the Elves had come into work drunk on leftover eggnog and proceeded to Pee directly into the batch of white Sprinkles! The foreman that should have caught this early was drunk as well. I’ll never let those Elves bring Eggnog to work again.

NORVAL JOE

Henry was no longer an average pigeon. He’d decided to rise above the others and become a red tailed haw.

Isolating himself from the other pigeons of the flock he carefully watched the hawks circling high in the sky. As he pecked at seeds and small bugs he watched the hawks drop from the sky like a rock. The hawk fed on rodents and small birds.

Henry then knew what he had to do to become more like the hawk.

Working in the early hours before the others woke, he picked his first victim.

The flock woke to a murder.

TURA

A Story of the Early Desert Fathers

———

Abba Jerome left his cave to visit his neighbour Abba Genarius, thirty miles away. He confessed ashamedly, “I have written a book.”

“If it concern our Lord,” said Abba Genarius, “that is a praiseworthy thing.”

Abba Jerome sighed. “It began so, but I invented stories of the people around Him. Now His life is hardly mentioned, while the stories breed and multiply of themselves. Surely some demon afflicts me.”

Prophecy came upon Abba Genarius. “In time to come, it will be called ‘airport fiction’,” he said, “but do not ask me what that means, for it makes my head hurt.”

———

Music credit: “Chant from a Holy Book”, by Georges Gurdjieff, played by the Gurdjieff Folk Instruments Ensemble.

PLANET Z

These days, Spring comes early.

Summer comes early, too.
And it stays a really long time.

Fall comes late.

And Winter barely comes at all.

The birds are so confused by it all. So are the crops and the flowers.

We ask the Head Pilot to change the orbital colony’s angle, but they decline our request.

The tourists prefer the summer. More tourists means more money, which everyone shares.

And we can grow food with hydroponics. The farms are so wasteful, aren’t they?

Kids want to be physicists… scientists… pilots… hydroponic farmers.

Nobody wants to be a dirt farmer anymore.

Weekly Challenge #505 – New Years Resolution

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

We’ve got stories by:

IMG_2902.JPG

MUNSI

My New Year’s Resolution

By Christopher Munroe

In the new year, I’m going to like me.

I’ll look upon myself, upon my works, and strive to honestly like what I see, to take pride in those aspects of myself that I deserve pride in, to see those aspects clearly, rather than depending on the validation of others.

I’ll self-validate, because I’ll know my own approval is the only approval I’ve ever needed. And, in doing so, I’ll finally allow myself to be happy.

Obviously, this won’t happen. My self-loathing is far too internalized by this point.

Still, I will try.

Or at least: I’ll try to try…

CHARLIE

Honestly, I don’t believe in resolutions. If you feel the need to change something for your health, business, home, etc., it shouldn’t wait until the New Year. Resolutions are broken inside of a month. Fat people say they won’t stuff their face, will walk two or three more miles a day, and this lasts until the weekend when they find themselves saying fukit and cramming a bag of chips or cookies in their face. Adulterers swear that the last jump of the bones will put an end to their affair. Bollocks. A good resolution would be to stop making resolutions.

2nd

I hope to dream more in the New Year–more dreams of spirit animals, like wolves and owls. I will write down the dreams when I awake and train myself in lucid dreaming so I can more easily control my place in the dreams, what I can do, who I see, and what I can reveal. I strongly vow that if I pull my pistol in the New Year, I will be using lethal rounds and aim for main mass rather than a knee or foot. Also, lastly, I plan to expand my swordsman’s skills in and about the county.

JEFFREY

My New Year’s Resolution
by Jeffrey Fischer

In 2016, I resolve to eat better. You look a little skeptical, so I’d better explain. I don’t mean I want to eat a *healthier* diet – heavens no. I want to upgrade the *quality* of what I ingest. Foie gras instead of pate with the taste and consistency of cat food. Single malt Scotch aged until it’s old enough to drink, and not bottom-shelf rotgut whose age statement is measured in days. No gristly hamburger, only Kobe beef, preferably using cows that Mr. Bryant himself massages.

Of course, affording this lifestyle change could be a challenge, which brings me to our meeting today. Hand over your valuables – this is a stickup.

Passing the Time
by Jeffrey Fischer

“See that guy? Mister Man Bun?” John asked his wife.

“God, how awful,” Melanie replied.

“The worst part is, he thinks it looks good.”

“Well, he’s wrong. Hey, how about the chick in the maxi dress? Those colors are ghastly.”

“Nice look if she’s a hippie in 1969.” John and Melanie were on the Metro, on their way to a New Year’s Eve party, playing their game of “spot the fashion disaster.” It was a target-rich environment.

“Wait a sec, John. Didn’t we resolve to be nicer to other people in 2016? We decided the snarky comments had to go.”

“Right, absolutely. No more snark….Technically, though, it’s still 2015 for a few more hours. I say let’s not hold back.”

“Oh, good! See the guy with the cheap fur hat? Looks like a rodent landed awkwardly on his head…”

RICHARD

New year resolution

I can’t say my schooldays were pleasant. I was frequently the butt of jokes because I had one of those faces only a mother could love: Huge sticky-out ears, and a massive nose earned me the nickname ‘elephant Man’; whilst buck teeth, pebble glasses and shock of ginger hair did little to improve things.

After leaving school, I resolved to change my fortunes. Hair dye solved one problem, corrective surgery and laser treatment sorted out my eyesight and nose, whilst a small fortune in dental treatment fixed my teeth.

Just one thing left: next year see’s my new ear resolution!

TOM

The Grasshopper Lies Heavy

True to form Bernie dutifully made out his resolutions for the coming year. There was the usually ones concerning weight and health. The social ones about keeping in touch with friends and family. All pretty pedestrian, until he got to resolution 15: Raise an evil army for global domination. His girlfriend Ruth helpfully pointed out he had misspelled domination. “Thanks Honey. That most assuredly would have raised serious doubts among my minions.” “You might want to rethink that “minions thing” that term has been co-opted to the cute. How about Spawn of Darkness?” Bernie gave her two thumbs up.

LIZZIE

A Letter on Believing

“Sometimes, there are things in life that make us struggle, that turn each day into an uphill battle.
Then, sometimes, someone shows up and asks “are you okay?”
Sometimes, a question as simple as this is all it takes. The world seems to change, to shift just a tiny bit. Sometimes, that is the difference between struggling to stay afloat and moving on.
I don’t really have to tell you that I’m not ok. You know.
And you encourage me, you encourage me to believe.
Believing that life can be ok again is a good start, isn’t it?
Thank you.”

PEDRO L

A Fateful Drop

Nobu was a brave samurai warrior, his loyalty unwavering. He had served Lord Yamamoto well and was held in high regard by him and all who knew him. After two years away from home, Nobu was eager to see his wife and infant son, but before he could return to his family Yamamoto fell in battle and his army was defeated. Nobu survived but he could not avenge his master’s death. The bushido code demanded that he take his own life in seppuku.

As he drew his short-sword he hesitated. Who will take care of his family? How could he abandon them? Yet honor demanded that he do so. Should he drop the sword or drop to his knees and end his life? Nobu closed his eyes and said “Gomenasai.”

SERENDIPITY

When it came, it was unexpected, vicious, bloody and brutal.

The mercenaries I’d secretly trained proved to be a force to be reckoned with, overwhelming defences and rapidly taking control throughout the country. Any opposition was met – on my instructions – with ruthless and swift retribution. Many lives were lost and much blood was spilled.

January the first: A new dawn, and a new regime in power, with me at the helm.

Unfortunately, the whole thing was a misunderstanding – a terrible mistake, arising from my poor understanding of English.

It should have been resolution… Not New Year’s revolution!

ZACKMANN

“I will lose weight, become better educated, get a higher paying or most socially prestigious job, do more work around the house, and keep my car clean. I will buy fast food with younger son twice a week and buy him really cool Transformers collector toys to give as special occasion gifts. I will buy elder son’s girlfriend San Jose Sharks gear next Christmas. Sorry family, none of these work. I plan to keep with tradition of not making promises I might not keep. If I ever change my mind, I will definitely write my own New Year’s resolution list.

NORVAL JOE

Henry the red tailed hawk pigeon had no fear of competition from his old friends and family. They were as normal and ordinary as any pigeon could be–no goals for self improvement, no changes in diet and excersize, no new years resolutions.

While Henry had chosen to rise above his lot in life and join the ranks of the raptors, his former companions had done more than only declined thier chance at self improvement, they had designated themselves as his prey.

Henry’s new years resolution would be to show his former friends and family he was serious about his transformation.

TURA

New Year Resolutions
———

At the beginning of the millenium, I made some New Era Resolutions.

On Talk Like a Pirate Day, I made some New Yarrr! Resolutions.

When I went a bit deaf, I made a New Ear Resolution and got a hearing aid.

Last year I went wildebeest hunting. It was my Gnu Year Resolution.

Working in the civil service, every year I’d make a New Year Regulation. But as a card-carrying anarchist, I was actually working in secret for a New Year Revolution.

This year, I’m going to take up craft brewing. It’s my New Beer Resolution. Let’s drink to that!

PLANET Z

“The name ‘United Nations’ is oxymoronic,” said the outgoing ambassador to his replacement. “The only way you’ll make a difference is to prevent others from pushing a their barbaric agenda in the name of peace. And every time you try to solve a problem or fix an injustice, someone else blocks your efforts and claims that they’re doing the same.”

The ambassador handed over the keys to the office and a folder of draft resolutions. “It’s your problem now.”

He then headed to the airport so he could spend New Year’s at home.

Where was home?

Does it really matter?

Weekly Challenge #504 – Drop

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

We’ve got stories by:

Huggy sleepy

CHARLIE

He dropped a hip hop record a few days ago. His group, Fake Ass CP were big in The Valley. DoWaDittyBop decompressed and put down some lines:

Rapping tighter than a Christmas present. When they had you in their stomach when they were pregnant. Never had forgiveness, you better stay distant, cause i’m all about my business. You diss me, yet my rep is listed for Christmas.

DoWa had a learning disability. The lyrics, continued:

Rolling up blunts of the christmas kush, so pussy go back home or go to school. This is the end of my fucking song. Shit.

2nd

A single drop was sufficient. Four drops under the tongue, thirty in the keester, and a drop each in the eye. Usually it’s a bottle of cough syrup and a half pint of sloe gin, and we’re ready to party. The rest of the coeds poured the full bottles of cough syrup in each others behind, and they were ready to boogie. Three of them called their parents and said they were staying overnight at a friend’s house. Five went home and then slid out their bedroom window to return to the Christmas party. Only two OD on horse tranks.

3rd

The backdrop for the annual family photo was Essie Oberlocwins patio. She was a landscape artist and her patio was the cat’s ass. It had two water accents, a large fire pit, and benches made from rare woods and bamboo. My wife stood behind me, and the kids sat at my feet. This was the pose we always took for family portraits. The wife took the subservient roll, and the kids looked up at me as their savior and protector. Essie teased me for arranging the family in this way, so I stuck three fingers in all the hors d’oeuvres.

JEFFREY

Rain Man
by Jeffrey Fischer

The drought had continued so long the townspeople couldn’t remember the last good rain. In desperation, the mayor hired a rain man. He arrived in traditional American Indian garb and shouted incantations at the sky as he danced. I was as skeptical as anyone.

When I felt wetness hit my face, I couldn’t believe it – he had created rain! I wiped away those first drops, only to find my hand orange and sticky. Odd. I tasted the next drop. It was raining Orange Crush! Even though we knew this would end as a sticky mess, we were so happy we even paid the Indian a bonus.

No one saw his assistant disconnect the huge sprayers on the outskirts of town and drive away in a Pepsi truck.

Tech Support
by Jeffrey Fischer

“Good morning, Dropbox help line. How may I assist you?”

“I installed your product, Boxdrop, just the way my friend told me to.”

“That’s good, ma’am. By the way, it’s Dropbox. What seems to be the problem?”

“I gave Boxdrop all my files, just the way my friend said. Moved ’em to the Boxdrop folder, and then they were gone.”

“Dropbox, ma’am. Gone, you say? Let’s try to figure out what happened.”

“Now I get email telling me I need to pay if I want my files back. You people are crooks!”

“I understand you’re upset, but let me assure you Dropbox is a reputable company.”

“Why do you keep saying Dropbox?”

“The confusion is understandable. People sometimes reverse the names, but we’re Dropbox, not Boxdrop.”

“Nope. B-O-X-D-R-O-P dot R-U. You don’t even know the name of your own product!”

MUNSI

On Subscription Boxes

By Christopher Munroe

I want a subscription box that, every month, sends me a box from another, different subscription box service.

The box will arrive, and I won’t know until I open it what I’m receiving. One month could be beef jerky, the next X-Men merchandise, there’d be no way of predicting.

The contents, after all, aren’t why I enjoy subscription boxes. It’s the surprise, the anticipation as I tear open my monthly treat.

And, without any clue what’s in the box, it’d be all the more surprising.

That said, knowing my luck, my first box would wind up containing Gwynith Paltrow’s head…

LIZZIE

He dropped the letter in the mailbox and glanced one last time at her window.
It had taken him several days to write that letter, many hours of writing and rewriting. And so many sleepless nights that he had lost count.
As he walked away from his life, he wondered if she would notice the tears on it.

When she opened the envelope, she saw a piece of paper inside with nothing written on it. She turned it over a few times and shrugged. She was going to throw it in the garbage, but instead gave it to the cat.

RICHARD

Drop Zone

As we neared the drop zone, the atmosphere grew tense. You could see the foreboding growing in the faces of those around you. Smiles faded, jaws clenched, voices were stilled, whilst knuckles grew white as hands gripped the edges of seats.

It was always the same. No matter how many times you endured it, you never found it easy, and that old familiar feeling would creep back, time after time.

A collective drawing of breath signalled the first glimpse of the drop zone… It would be very soon now.

With a grinding of gears and a final shudder, the bus came to a halt and we disembarked.

The first day of a new school term.

TOM

Justifiable

The targeting staff at the Pacific Fleet compiled a selection of easily recognizable landmarks to direct the bombards to the drop sites, weather permitting. Since the primate site was wrapped in clouds the crew’s bombardier opened the envelope marked: secondary. When his scope matched the photo in front of him Commander Ashworth released Fat Man. It was not known at the time that the landmark that was used to target the city was the Urakami Cathedral. All who attend that mass were dispatched to meet their maker. This was the last time an Atomic weapon was dropped on practicing Christians.

SERENDIPITY

A drop in the ocean… So inconsequential and unimportant, it scarcely matters.

In the wider scale of things, insignificance is – for all practical purposes – nothing.

Nothing at all.

You are my drop in the ocean.

But, to somebody, you are far more – you are their world, their life: You are their everything. Or so they told you… But we’ll see about that.

Because, if they won’t pay up to set you free, I’m going to cut that rope with this knife, and you will drop into the cold, dark ocean depths below, and never be seen again.

TURA

Drop
———

There was a man who refused to pay taxes. He was not poor, and did not dispute the amount. He said only that he recognised no authority to make these exactions.

So perplexed was the magistrate that he referred the case to his superior, and thus it came before General Wei.

General Wei said, “The monsoon begins with a single drop. Thus may the meanest of men foretell the destruction of empires.” Then he had all involved with the case executed, and instructed the tax officials to act henceforth with high-handedness, to draw the anger of subjects upon themselves alone.

MARV

“Drop that lid, you little twit!” Santa shouted, coming up behind and grabbing Marcus the elf.

Marcus jumped up and turned to face Santa as the box flew from his lap.

“Well little fellow” Santa began, “Your little prank isn’t going to have the effect you were planning on” as Santa pulled out his Colt Python aiming at the elf and then he cocked the hammer.

“Now Santa” Mrs. Claus blushing, interjected, “After all, it was only a tiny winnie, little joke”

“Well little fellow, I guess you’ll be going for a sleigh ride on Christmas Eve instead.” Santa roared.

NORVAL JOE

Henry was tired of the rest of the pigeons.

They were stupid and boring and happy to sit on the roof top all day.

Adventure to this crowd was startling and flying to the next house when someone opened a door, below.

They all looked at him cross eyed when Henry suggested they drop bird bombs on the local cats sneaking through the bushes.

There had to be more to life than being a non-descript, cookie cutter copy, one of a million other, pigeon.

“Forget them. I’ll be a red tailed hawk,” he said and made the sky his limit.

PLANET Z

I used to love won ton soup, but it got boring quickly.

So, I’d try all the other soups at the Chinese restaurant.

Egg drop soup.

Hot and sour soup.

Spicy vegetable soup.

And they were all great.

But over the years, I’ve developed an allergy to eggs.

Egg drop soup is like a shotgun blast to my colon.

And I can’t eat much in the way of spicy foods, either.

Which rules out hot and sour soup. And the spicy vegetable soup.

So, I’m back to plain old boring won ton soup.

And smoking weed to make it interesting.

Weekly Challenge #503 – Box

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

We’ve got stories by:

Myst

TOM
(no audio)

Wrapped Up With a Bow

“What’s in the box,” asked Laura. Frankie replied, “Stuff.” “OOOOH” said Laura. “I want to see.” “Nope, you got to wait.” “I want to see it now.” “Not a chance. We open the box on HogFather’s day just as the sun rises.” “That sucks.” “Get over it.” Frankie placed the package under the yum-yum tree. “Moooooooooooom! Frankie wouldn’t let me open the box.” Much to Frankie horror Mom put the box in Laura’s hands and smiled. She tore it open to find a lump of coal. “Should have waited,” smile Frankie, until she clock him in the forehead with it.

MUNSI

Drop It

By Christopher Munroe

“Drop it like it’s Hot” is an amazing early 2000s club jam, quite possibly Snoop Dogg’s finest moment.

It is, however, horrible advice if you work at a resaurant. The food is always going to be hot and in spite of that it does need to be carried to the table safely.

Dropping things simply because they are hot means re-cooks, angry guests and wasted food. Frankly, in spite of how amazing we all agree Snoop D-o-double-g is, we cannot afford to be following his example.

It wouldn’t be economically viable.

In summery: Snoop Dogg is awesome, and you’re fired.

JEFFREY

The Boxer
by Jeffrey Fischer

Matt had an anger management problem. He would lash out at co-workers, kick holes in walls, and beat up hapless office equipment. His therapist suggested he learn to box to channel his aggression. Matt took the advice to heart.

One day his trainer said Matt was ready for an opponent in the ring. He laced his gloves and stepped into the ring with one of the regulars at the gym. Forty-five seconds later, Matt was back in his corner, bleeding and woozy. “What happened, kid?” the trainer asked. “You never got off a punch.”

“I dunno,” Matt replied. “My shrink told me to leave all my angry thoughts with the bag. When I looked into Juan’s eyes, I realized I had no quarrel with him. I couldn’t hit him.”

The Most Precious Gift
by Jeffrey Fischer

Jake was only seven, but he understood the true meaning of Christmas: presents, mainly for him. As early as October, he pestered me for one thing after another. Legos, trucks, superheroes, video games – you name it.

As I thought about what to get him, inspiration struck. On Christmas morning, Jake ripped apart the wrapping and eagerly opened the box to find… nothing. The box was empty. I told Jake, “You have the opportunity to use your imagination – can be anyone, do anything. You don’t need a specific toy.”

For some reason, Jake didn’t seem as appreciative as I had expected. He didn’t speak to me for two months. For that, I considered the box to be my most successful gift ever.

CHARLIE

She kept things in her box. Bits of string, small stones found on the beach, scraps of paper, the stump of a pencil, a few coins, and the first flower her boyfriend gave her. As she got older, she stuffed more and more things into her box. It was almost filled to the breaking point. Her family didn’t understand, and they admonished her for doing what she was doing. They didn’t want their daughter to break her box, or to imperil her health. Her box had been in the family for twenty years, and they wanted it for twenty more.

2nd

The box held all that I knew, all that I thought, and all that I produced. It was a fifty petabyte storage unit that was tethered to high speed fiber. It allowed me to back up all devices with access to my personal network, including my implant. I could backup to the cloud and to the box, itself. The box was still experimental, and the IBM/Amdahl chips inside were still in beta, as was the implant in my skull. If I wanted to go “off line”, I had to hold a small radio to my temple to switch it off.

3rd

She always thought far outside the box. In fact, many thought that she didn’t know what a box was. She was the top designer at GeenDozen…a firm in Holland. She surrounded herself with very capable designers, writers, and artists. They would bid on an assignment, and within a few days would have a workable solution, templates, and mockups to show to the client. Mariëlle kept her secret from her fellow workers. She would sneak out at lunch and consult with an old woman in the storefront across the street. The old woman would brew a special, red tea for Mariëlle.

LIZZIE

It was impossible not to notice the stench.

Postal Inspection officers opened the parcel. Dogs were called in to sniff the box for drugs and human remains. They found nothing.

The parcel was sent on its way.

The next day, the news reported the mysterious death of an elderly couple, after the mail was delivered to them.

No one mentioned the man with a grudge against the Postal Inspection Services, grumbling in his living-room.

Opening the box should have triggered an immediate lethal chemical reaction. Okay, it was a really bad idea to send the damn parcel to his parents…

RICHARD

Treasure

Feeling rather pleased with himself, Bilbo Laggins secured the ogre’s bonds, brushed off his hands, and headed off down the path to find the brute’s hoard.

Sure enough, behind the third oak on the right, hidden in a small cave, he found a large wooden box, secured with a solid looking padlock.

No problem – Laggins still carried the stake with which he’d clobbered the ogre; a couple of solid blows soon released the hasp, and with a smile, he carefully lifted the lid.

Staring at the glittering treasure, he began to think maybe this quest was worthwhile, after all!

Clearly Capable

The interview seemed to have gone well…

“Got to tell you son, I’m giving you the green light – you’ve got the engagement delta we need. Our people think outside the box, push the envelope and harness their vertical experiences in scalable rethinking!”

This didn’t sound like me at all.

“Are you sure I’m your guy?”

“Hell yes! We need to push the peanut forward on this… Get you onboard to start leveraging our effectiveness matrix.”

“So you’re offering me the job?”

“Yep. You’ve got the footprint that sits squarely in our operating model.”

“Meaning what?”

“You’re a straight talker!”

TURA

Box

———

Abba Jerome visited Abba Genarius on the day of Our Lord’s birth, and gave him a box of Egyptian sweetmeats.

A year later, Abba Genarius visited Abba Jerome, and gave him that same box, still full, saying, “Thank you for this opportunity to resist the weakness of my body.”

A year later, Abba Jerome visited Abba Genarius, giving him that same box again, saying, “The virtue of abnegation cannot be contained.”

A year later, Abba Genarius gave the box to Abba Jerome, saying, “I cannot open this while my brother stands in want.”

Then they laughed and ate them together.

——

Music credit: “Chant from a Holy Book”, by Georges Gurdjieff, played by the Gurdjieff Folk Instruments Ensemble.

DANNY

How did that telemarketer know I was suffering from acid indigestion the exact moment he called, and he specifically was the cause of it despite the fact I was already taking Maalox? Is that what a premonition is supposed to feel like? Annoying? I feel trapped inside this large square like thing, what do you call it? I wish I was trapped in this thing last time I walked my deaf dog off leash, because I assure you, as soon as he sees that 1st car go by, he ain’t coming back no matter how much you call his name.

SERENDIPITY

So, you want to know what’s in the box?

Well, that would be telling… And it really is better for all concerned that you remain in ignorance, to be quite honest.

But when you look at me with those puppy dog eyes, it’s so hard to resist…

All right then, if you must, and if you’re really sure you can handle it, I might consider relenting. After all, what harm could it do?

I insist that it’s on my terms though: You come to me.

Call round tonight, and come alone – you know the address.

Just ask for Pandora.

ZACKMANN

The shopkeeper told me he wasn’t sure if he had a small lockable plastic box nor a three lock box. He had a heart shaped box for Always. He did have a toy Porsche Boxster driven by a boxer dog and a music box with a pro boxer dancing around the ring. I told him a dancing boxer seemed silly to me then he told me not to say anything around Manny or he would give me a Pacqui owie. Then I found the plastic ammo box. It might be strange that I purchased an ammo box to store medicine.

MARV

The Box.

Marcus the elf had always been the practical joker in Santa’s workshop. He took a box, drilled a large hole in the bottom, attached a lid and painted it like a Jack in the box. Then he painted the insides white, highlighting the hole in red. He then poked his finger through the hole and wiggled it around, Perfect!

As Mrs. Claus approached on her weekly inspection tour, he calmly sat with the box in his lap. When she stood in front of his station, he Flipped open the lid with both hands, smiled and asked, “Like the new Jack?”

NORVAL JOE

At the beginning of the 21st century several bored billionaires developed a plan to mark humanities place in galactic history. They gathered images from pivotal moments of life on earth, placed them in a crystal cube, and the cube into a protective titanium box.

When activated, the cube would flash the images in chronological order.

They placed the box in a probe and launched it toward the outer depths of space.

42 million years later an advanced civilization retrieved the probe from space, followed the diagram instructions on how to open it, removed the cube, and played in the box.

PLANET Z

Every Christmas, I wrap dozens of boxes and drop them off at the Toys For Tots.
Laptop computer boxes, chemistry set boxes, building block boxes… lots of boxes.
Nothing in them, mind you. Just the boxes. Empty boxes.
I pick them out of my neighbors’ trash cans.
Then, I wrap them up and give them to Toys For Tots.
Is it cruel?
Of course it is.
My cats love empty boxes.
I’m taking away their boxes and giving them to the kids.
Plus, they love to play in wrapping paper.
And the ribbons and bows, too.
Stupid Toys For Tots!

Weekly Challenge #502 – “Pick a card… any card”

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

We’ve got stories by:

Happy lap cat

MUNSI

My Favorite Card Trick

By Christopher Munroe

Shuffle the cards, and make sure they’re shuffled well. Allow others to shuffle, if anyone would like, it makes no difference.

Once the deck’s randomized to everyone’s satisfaction, have somebody pick a card, not show it to you, and put it in their pocket.

Then look that person in the eye and, in a calm, steady voice, ask: “Is your card the queen of clubs?”

One time in fifty-two, this trick CRUSHES, people I did it for years ago STILL wonder how I pulled it off.

I tell them I’m an actual sorcerer.

There are times when they believe me…

JEFFREY

Reading the Future
by Jeffrey Fischer

Madame Zathras turned over five cards from her private Tarot deck. Beth watched in fascination as the reader explained, “First card: two rocks. Misfortune looms before you. Second: pencil stub. You will have a short life. Third: eyeglasses. Misfortune will be the result of one who does not see well. Next card: bleeding heart. Your husband will miss you terribly. Last card: blind man. You are skeptical of my predictions.”

Skepticism didn’t come close to what Beth thought. She mainly regretted the $25 she had given this fraud. Nodding to Madame Zathras, she left the shop, banging the door behind her. Still angry, she stepped off the curb and into the path of a Metro bus, whose driver was texting and failed to see Beth.

Madame Zathras was wrong in one respect: Beth’s husband was not particularly upset.

Indecision
by Jeffrey Fischer

“I just can’t decide,” said Stanley. “Maybe Ozzie Smith, the ‘Wizard of Oz.’ You know he won an amazing 13 Gold Gloves?”

“Uh-huh. Good choice.” The day was drawing to a close, and the dealer was getting tired. One more sale and he’d be on his way.

“No, wait. How about the amazing Rogers Hornsby. Lifetime .358 batting average, two Triple Crowns, the only player to hit 40 home runs and bat above .400 in a season. Or Bob Gibson, with his 1.12 ERA in 1968. Or my namesake, Stan Musial, with a .331 lifetime average over twenty-three seasons. Or Lou Brock and his 938 stolen bases.”

“All great choices, kid, but I ain’t got all day. Just pick a Card, any Card.”

CHARLIE

I shuffled the deck and asked one of the guests to pick a card. A woman pulled a card from the middle of the deck and held it close for a moment, setting it down on the table. It burst into flames and the ash and smoke lifted up a few feet, and in a split second, vanished. The flame was the trick. I asked if anyone had taken a picture or was filming during the trick. No one had. What person or force had caused the flame and the total absence of ash or residue? The maid laughed aloud.

##

I am a jack of all trades, a bit of a showoff, and a self-taught pilot, inventor, poet and astronomer. I carry six different business cards wherever I go. When I am engaged in a conversation, and it’s time to leave, many ask for my card because I am so frigging fascinating. I pull out my packet of cards and ask them to pick a card…any card. Cards list one of my six, different occupations. The cards include all the basic information, including my hourly rate. I am not affordable, and don’t like to be bothered, excluding Goth women.

RICHARD

Cynic

Call me cynical, but commercialisation of every notable occasion is getting out of control.

It used to be that we only celebrated birthdays, weddings and Christmas. Now it seems anything Is fair game… ‘Grandparents Day’, ‘Congratulations on getting the sack’, ‘Best of luck with your bankruptcy’ – if there’s an occasion that can possibly be marked, Moonpig has you covered – and you dare not forget to send a card.

Personally, I no longer try to conform, I just pick a card – any card, and whatever it is, I send it.

So, Happy Persistent Vegetative State Day! Enjoy it!

LIZZIE

The seer spread the cards on the table.

“Pick a card… any card.”

The one Sophie picked said “Wind, Doll, Disgust”.

“Which deck is this?” asked Sophie.

“My own… You’ll die.”

Sophie was horrified. She had been told that seers never announced someone’s death like that.

“Stabbed.”

“What does that have to do with wind, doll and…?”

“Nothing.”

Annoyed, Sophie left.

A gust of wind dragged a naked, headless doll to Sophie’s feet; it was covered in blood. She stopped to kick it out of her way and… a piano fell on her head.

Yep, the seer was still learning.

SERENDIPITY

Is lady luck smiling on you today?

Go on, pick a card, any card, and don’t tell me what it is.

Not that it really matters what card you’re holding – you see, I’m the dealer, and the odds are firmly in my favour.

How about we raise the stakes a little – are you willing to bet your life on that hand you’re holding?

Now, let’s see your cards.

Impressive. But I still win.

You see, not only was the deck loaded, but so is the pistol pointing straight at you, that I had hidden underneath the card table.

MARSHA

GYPSY

Every year I went to the carnival that came to town. I entered a small battered tent that read “Madame Sophia”, your heart’s delight will be revealed. A dark haired beauty stared at me and said it would $20. She laid ten cards face down on the table and asked me to take a card…any card…..I awoke 3 days later in an alley outside of town with a tattoo on my penis that says Shorty’s. When erect it says Shorty’s Truck Stop, Chattanooga Tennessee.

ZACKMANN

After Cliff said “If you people keep linking to things on Pinterest, I’m going to have to sign up for it.” I actually lemented Pinterest’s steps toward Facebookafication. Changing their website to require signing in to see posts. My current Pinterest Board is a sportball Board maybe I will start with that one city, Defiance or whatever it’s called. You know the one with giant silver half a McDonald’s sign. I don’t really follow much sportsball but want to Pin a profile of one important player for each sportsball team. What I am saying is “Pick a Cardinal any Card.”

TOM

Now you see it, now you don’t

Frankie double fanned the black dagger desk and lowered it level to Laura’s eye line. “Pick a card any card,” he said. Laura ran upstairs and dragged a stool under dad’s dresser. She dug around the top draw until she felt the edge of the card. “Here.” She said. “That’s not part of the trick,” said Frankie. “Is now,” said his sister “Don’t you dare,” yelled Frankie. “Ecto Morta, Esto ProMorta,” invoked Laura. Later that evening just about supper time Mom asked her if she had seen her brother. “Oh I saw him hop off in search of carrots.”

ANIMA

EVER THE OPTOMIST

My life is a game three card Monte. How does that damn one eyed Jack always show up where the red queen just was?

Lady Luck, why have you forsaken me? I put my five dollars down, and you sent me to a second rate college. I upped my bet, and got a job as a Lifestyle editor at a newspaper. I doubled down, when I thought I had enough in my 401K, but the shill called out “Cops!” and the stock market tanked.

So pick a card, any card, Is the lovey Judith going to show her face today??

NORVAL JOE

A stoop shouldered fortune teller limped through the crowded fair.

“One copper to reveal your future,” she cried in a crackling falsetto.

A gaily dressed lord approached the crone, winked at the lady holding his arm, and said, “Here’s a copper. Now, reveal my future.”

She thrust a tattered deck of cards at the man. “Pick a card. Any card.”

He chose and turned the card. “Ace of spades. Am I to die?” He laughed, slapping the deck from her hand, revealing all as ace of spades.

“Yes.” She gathered her cards as the man dropped dead at her feet.

TURA

Pick a card … any card!

———

“This is a nice card, don’t you think?”

“Goodness, no! It’s a misch-masch of Christmassy imagery, without composition or draughtsmanship. Your aunt will think we have no taste at all!”

“What about this one? Old Master fine art!”

“On a Christmas card? The very definition of kitsch. Anyway, it’s an inch too large. Remember, I hardly know her, and this would be slightly too much even for my own aunt.”

“This one?”

“Too eclectic. There’s symbols for at least four different religions!”

“Darling, we’ve been looking at Christmas cards for three hours.”

“Oh, just pick a card then. Any card!”

———

PLANET Z

The first card game I learned to play was War.

Deal out the cards, then show one card after another.

Highest card wins.

There wasn’t any skill to it. Unless you counted stacking the deck so you got all the aces.

Eventually, I learned Solitaire, Gin, Poker, Eurchre, Bridge, and so many other games.

Plus, Liar’s Poker and countless drinking games.

At my first job, I went back to War.

We’d collect everyone’s business card, and whoever you’d think would win an argument, won the matchup.

The owner of the company learned about the game, and he tore up my card.

Weekly Challenge #501 – “Pin”

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

We’ve got stories by:

Read to your cat

MUNSI

On Cosplay
By Christopher Munroe

I love Hellraiser, but I’ll never cosplay Pinhead.

A fact that at times does hurt my heart.

I’d like to, either for Horror-Con, Halloween, or just out at my local gothic nightclub, but I won’t. The costume’s too elaborate, even if I COULD afford it I’m not good enough at makeup and prosthetics to get the look right.

And a character that iconic you do have to get right.

So no, sad though it makes me, I’ll never cosplay Pinhead. It’s not the end of the world…

After all, I’m pretty sure I could pull off Chucky like a boss.

CHARLIE

Pinned down by enemy as tough words in letters to the editor appeared during the time we tried to convince them that the new building housing the city offices was atrocious — looking like a large freighter on its side in dry dock. Twelve million was spent on this atrocity. No “architecture” in the architecture…no style…no panache, no departure from the mundane. The color palette they chose for the paint and trim was reminiscent of hotel facades in San Francisco in the sixties. City fathers puffed out their chests the first weeks of occupation. Deflation ensued in the following weeks.

2nd

You put up too many pictures on your wall, Fred. You have pictures covering pictures. You used roofing nails instead of pins or tape. I like most of the pictures, but some of them are…shall we say…vulgar? Why did you put that picture of a scrotum on the wall? Whose scrotum is that, anyway? Is that a human scrotum? Oh. I’m sorry. That’s a picture of that nutjob that’s running for president. Where did you get that, Fred? Was that from the novelty store, or did you find that on line? How much did a poster of Donald Trump cost?

3rd

Pin point pupils. Skin flushed and itching. He was higher than a kite on opiates, and he was only ten. I had four others like him in my classroom. I agreed to teach at the private school because of the loss of the math teacher in the middle of the semester. She had been arrested for consorting with pupils in her ethics class. It was a progressive, Quaker school in Maryland. The principal was a tyrant, and worked weekends as a dominatrix. It was the best job I ever had, and provided tons of material for short stories and essays.

JEFFREY

Pin Money
by Jeffrey Fischer

The taxi dropped off Caroline at a strip mall on the sketchy side of town. It was Monday morning, which meant Bob had left Caroline’s pin money for the week on the counter. She wasn’t sure how it had come to this. Before they married, Caroline had a decent job and could take care of herself. After she married Bob, he convinced her to quit her job and move to this lousy town where she knew no one. He then provided her with a small amount of cash every week for her to “go wild,” as he put it. It was humiliating.

She had been saving up that pin money for several months, and she was ready to go wild. She entered the gun shop and smiled at the guy behind the counter, pointing at the Smith and Wesson .38 Special. “Do you give a discount for cash?”

Quiet Neighborhood
by Jeffrey Fischer

The neighborhood was noisy at night, with drunks coming home from the bars, kids playing outside, horns honking a steady beat. But it was peaceful in the late morning, a time when Yusef found he could work without interruption.

In fact, it was so quiet in the little apartment that one could hear a pin drop. Unfortunately for Yusef, that pin belonged to a hand grenade, one of several he had recently acquired. As the seconds ticked by, his hand frantically swept the floor, to and fro, hoping to find the pin so he could replace it in time. How long was the fuse in one of those things anyway?

Aha! he exclaimed. There it was, just a few feet away…

RICHARD

Party animal

As a child, I was never one for going to parties. It’s not that I didn’t like jelly and ice cream and dressing up, I even liked clowns!

However there was one thing about parties that terrified me… party games, and there was one game in particular that lay at the root of all my fears:

Pin the tail on the donkey!

A simple, inoffensive parlour game you might think, but not so when you have well meaning, but misguided parents.

And, if you’ve ever tried sticking a pin into a real donkey’s arse, you’ll know exactly what I mean!

LIZZIE

The young reporter was nervous.

“They pinned it on me, the bastards,” said the prisoner. “I was there, but I didn’t see anything. I didn’t do anything. I swear on my mother’s grave. I tried to explain how things happened, but they didn’t care. They wanted a scapegoat. Yeah, that’s right. So, here I am. The bastards pinned it on me.”

Years later, while reviewing old cases, the reporter found the photo they had published back then. Readers always enjoyed reading about familiar faces of the past. So, he decided to interview the prisoner’s mother, who was still very alive.

TURA

Pin
———
Voodoo is too mired in tradition. Everyone insists on sticking silver pins into the doll, but it’s always worth experimenting, or how will the art develop?

With modern technology, you can make pins of diamond fibre. The target dies of epileptic seizures, which I wasn’t expecting! Pins of enriched uranium bloat the target with radiation cancers. But rather difficult to get hold of. My latest idea is to manipulate the instruments under liquid nitrogen and make the pins of high temperature superconductors.

Calm down and stop struggling, it disturbs the measurements. Now, what do you feel when I do THIS?

SERENDIPITY

Always clean up after yourself – that’s what my parents taught me from an early age, and it’s a lesson that I’ve never forgotten.

Which is why, after every job, when others would run away and hide, you’d always find me taking that extra moment to tidy up, clear away and spend some time checking I’ve left nothing behind that might give me away.

I’ve learned that to rush away from a crime scene is to invite disaster – always take the time to clean up.

Try all you like, but you’ll never be able to pin it on me.

TOM

It Was A Simpler Time

There was a time in America when courtship was signified by a series of tokens which marked the passage from initial meeting to matrimony. When one committed to “going steady” one would give their girl a pin. The costume was oddly known as “pinning.” When things got a bit more serious a Lavalier was giving, yup it was call Lavaliering, and beer, vomit, kissing and abduction played an important role. An engagement ring followed by a wedding ring would round out the collection. In the age of the Hook-Up this all must seem quite amusing to the millennials

NORVAL JOE

An automated voice spoke from below a keypad in the door.
“To access this function you must establish a personal identification number of 8 to 26 characters.”
Dergle entered, 12345678.
“Your PIN must include upper and lower case letters.”
Dergle entered A12345678z.
“Your PIN may not include more than four consecutive numbers in a row.”
Dergle entered, A12348765z.
“You must use at least two special characters which do not include, @, &, or #.
Dergle added, $ and %, to the existing string.
“Please re-enter for security reasons.”
Dergle entered $A12348765z%.
“That is correct. You may now access the restroom.”

PLANET Z

When Parker was born, his parents gave him a map.

“You can use this to track all of the places you travel to in your life,” they said through the glass of the incubator.

Parker, full of tubes and surrounded by wires, struggled to breathe.

After three days, his parents agreed to pull the plug.

Despite the initial setback, Parker’s map accumulated many pins.

His parents carried his plastic-encased corpse all over the world.

Oh, sure, there were some strange looks from security personnel, but it was only a matter of a sufficiently-convincing bribe.

Plus, he’s a pretty good paperweight.

Weekly Challenge #500 – “Wind”

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

We’ve got stories by:

Fluffy neighbor

MUNSI

Wind, or Wind
By Christopher Munroe

The wind whips your hair back and forth as you wind your way through the woods, wind whistling through wood as you wander, wondering where you will wind up.

Your watch has wound down, you would have wound it were you aware you’d wind up wandering these woods, but without warning it’s no wonder you wander without…

Your mind wanders, and you wish you were willing to welcome the wonders without, without wondering what those wonders wrought whereupon they wandered upon you, gentle wanderer.

And that’s when you realize: You’ve completely lost track of what you were trying to say…

CHARLIE

The wind emanated from Grandma Lucy. Untethered by heavy clothing or undergarments, the winds drove across the dining room while we gathered for Christmas Dinner. Granny had been on a healing diet of rich, Greek food, dates and exotic grains. The cats left the room for the saving oxygen of the back yard, while we kept our heads down, lighting more candles, and sipping wine to anesthetize ourselves and burn off any flammable gases before they collected in the corners behind the heavy furniture. Gran was unaware of her blistering discharges, and continued with her special dinner. Merry Christmas, all.

It was my job to wind the clock in the hall. I had to stand on a chair after retrieving the brass key from the hanger, and check the time on the local FM station before I wound the clock. I was careful not to overwind the clock, and after it was wound, I set the correct time by moving the minute hand either clockwise or counterclockwise. The clock never lost nor gained a minute between windings. I dusted it, quickly, and reported that I finished. The week that I neglected winding the clock was the week I passed away.

JEFFREY

Trash Talk
by Jeffrey Fischer

“Mouth” McFadden was a good cornerback, but his claim to fame was his ability to trash talk opponents. Every play, all game, McFadden would have a comment about the offensive player’s hygiene, his IQ, his mother – you name it.

One game, the opposing team had enough. They called a play in McFadden’s direction. Three receivers converged on the cornerback, ignoring the ball. Each collided with the Mouth, who went down to the turf gasping for air. He couldn’t speak a word.

Looking over the prone McFadden, one of the receivers said to his teammates, “Looks like we knocked the windbag out of him.”

They were happy to take the 15-yard penalty.

Extra-Marital
by Jeffrey Fischer

Judy’s eyes lit up. She had her cheating husband dead to rights. He thought he was being clever, ordering the life-sized wind-up doll when she was out of the house, but he forgot that Judy got the email confirmation. She couldn’t believe what she saw: a clockwork sex toy! Sure, their marriage had its problems, and she rarely showed any excitement in bed with him, but honestly!

She had tracked the order and made sure she was home for the delivery. She burst into the bedroom, the accusation already on her lips. The doll, now fully wound, opened its mouth. “It’s so nice to see you home,” it said to her husband. “How was your day, dear?” Judy looked at the box. this wasn’t a sex doll, it was a conversation doll, fluent in Wife!

LIZZIE

The flag flapped in the wind, resilient and shredded. It had survived centuries of battles, countless journeys… and John. When he discovered the relic in the attic, he decided to play with it. He imagined fierce pirate fights where kings and aliens joined forces in improbable alliances. For weeks, that flag was a cape, a belt, a beach towel, a hat, a blanket, a traveler’s bag. When his parents realized what he had done, they were horrified and decided to place the flag in the garden, flapping safely in the wind, but away from John’s dreams. The flag wasn’t happy.

RICHARD

Storm

It was a dark and stormy night, the wind howled through the empty streets, whipping up stray pieces of litter and sending tin cans clattering down alleyways.

The windows rattled in their frames, rain thudding against the glass; the building creaked and protested under the assault of the storm outside.

I peered out into the darkness, inwardly shivering at the thought of leaving the warmth of the fire and braving the storm.

Some decisions are simple.

I returned to my chair by the fireside, poured a good measure of scotch and raised a silent toast to my own good sense!

SERENDIPITY

I gave the wheel a spin, taking up the slack on the ropes, snagging them tight.

It’s about now that I really should be asking you to confess, but to be quite honest, I’ve no interest at all in anything you have to say… All I want to hear is your screams!

It’s a question of balance – judging the precise amount of tension that will exert the greatest amount of pain.

Just one more turn. One final wind of the rope.

Your joints pop; sinews tear; muscles burst…

And you scream – a confession!

And a job well done.

TOM

Even in the Quietest Moments

Francis spent months in the Brass, but didn’t have the Embouchure. He left percussion because he lacked stamina. He sawed away in the strings until the first cellist formally petitioned for his removal. “Dad I’m just not cut out for this,” said Francis. His father set his baton on the podium. He hand the young man a flute. “Let’s give the wind section a try, shall we?” A bit rocky at first, but in time Francis found his place in the orchestra. They said when he played the sound of wind blow in the pines flow through the hall.

ZACKMANN

I was unloading lumber on a windy day. When I took a piece of plywood off a lumber truck I got hit by a strong wind. I felt like Piglet on that blustery day. I wish someone had seen me before I was a hundred feet in the air. My father couldn’t chase me because his car flooded so he had to wait ten minutes before trying to start the car again. Luckily I was close to the ground when the wind died down. The family whose farmhouse I wound up near let me use their phone to call home.

NORVAL JOE

Five hundred warriors assemble in ranks, armed with pen and paper. Their badges of rank, tin, silver, gold and iron monkeys clasp their cloaks at their necks. Contestants, like knights of old, take up the challenge, proud upon their linguistic steeds, prosaic pennants billow in the wind.
“Set you alarms. Mark your calendars,” the commander calls. “You have but seven days to find the one hundred perfect words to complete your mission. Not one word more or less or you will wind up among the losers. And if you don’t like the sound of your own voice, that’s your problem.”

TURA

Wind
———
Ok, I *am* the Messiah! Crazy, right? No argument from me there. See, I’ve always known it, never believed it.

What’s it like? It’s like a violent wind gusting through me, the greatest wind there ever was, but also completely still. That might take in a village carpenter’s son two thousand years ago, but I’ve studied neuroscience, and I don’t take my brain seriously when it pulls stuff like that.

Oh, your club foot? Looks ok to me.

Thanks, but I still don’t believe in these so-called miracles. After all, it’s not exactly a randomised controlled double-blind trial, is it?

PLANET Z

WIND airs Christian talk radio up in Chicago.

You can listen to it over the Internet, but I’d rather listen to my music, or the most recent podcasts in my collection.

I have a playlist for when I’m driving to work, or when I’m driving home.

Because the one rock station airs more commercials than music, and the local NPR station is always in a fundraiser.

Same with the classical station, but the fundraisers there are calmer and more relaxed.

More relaxed than the talk on WIND, I suspect.

I connect my iPhone, tell Siri to play, and drive on.

Weekly Challenge #499 – “Deck”

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

We’ve got stories by:

Tinny

MUNSI

Home Improvement
By Christopher Munroe

We were so excited when the project began.

I mean, none of us were carpenters, we’d never built a veranda before, but we were reasonably intelligent individuals, and youtube does exist after all, how hard could it be?

Unbelievably hard, as I’m sure will come as no surprise to the handier among you.

The resultant porch looked terrible but, more tragically, friendships ended over the fights attempting to build it caused among us. We went our separate ways, dispirited by failure, and never spoke again.

A tragic end to a tragic tale…

…especially as we’d started with such great deck-spectations.

JEFFREY

Weekend Getaway
by Jeffrey Fischer

Sam and Lisa sat on adjoining deck chairs, staring at the ocean. They had arrived at the beach house earlier in the day and planned to do little the rest of the weekend but sit in those chairs and relax.

“This is the life,” said Sam, hoisting a beer bottle in Lisa’s direction. A seagull passed overhead, spattering Sam.

“Except for the seagull poop,” observed Lisa.

“Right.” A gust of wind sprayed sand in Lisa’s face.

“And the sand.”

“Amen.” The wind brought with it clouds, which opened on the couple, drenching them.

Sam and Lisa sat on naugahyde chairs inside the beach house as rain pelted the exterior. “This is the life.”

“You bet.”

A Matter of Balance
by Jeffrey Fischer

The bar rocked to and fro as the waves battered the ship. Outside, the slippery deck and gale-force winds made walking dangerous. I figured I could hole up in the bar until the worst of the storm passed. Only one problem: the swaying of the ship caused the occupants of the bar to sway as well. I could steady myself by gripping the edge of the bar with both hands, but that left me one hand short for hoisting my glass.

Then the solution hit me: drink *more*. If I got just drunk enough, I would sway in the opposite direction to offset the ship. Problem solved!

“Hit me,” I told the bartender. I was no longer just a casual drinker: I was a man on a voyage of scientific exploration.

CHARLIE

We had to swab the deck, chip paint, polish the brass, clean windows inside and out, type letters, carry messages, answer the phone, keep the calendar, erase the boards, punch the holes in the papers, file the memos, check the spelling, lock the doors, unlock the doors, stand guard, wake the guards, pick up the trash, blow up the balloons, neuter the cats, change the tires, darn the socks, air the laundry, start the rumors, shine the boots, blow the noses, change the diapers, walk the dogs, clean the drains, feed the elders, change the oil, and count the meds.

Second

First time I set foot on the holodeck, I was shocked. Someone hadn’t cleaned up after the last user. There was food, empty bottles, used condoms, and the stench of cat’s ass and hamster food. The family had room and equipment keys, but they were very careless about tidying up after their sessions. We were able to save a shitload of money by not buying gas, going on vacations, or going to parties. Grandpa used the holodeck in his wheelchair, and I used to spend all weekend in there, with some poppers, a bottle of nitrous, and a call girl.

RICHARD

Ogres – Not the brightest of the bunch

The ogre grinned wickedly at Laggins who, quaking in his boots, whimpered, “I’m just a poor traveller… What are you going to do with me?”

“First”, replied the ogre, “I’m going to deck you. Then I’m going to steal your gold for my secret hoard!”

“You have a secret hoard of gold?”

“Yes”

“Where, exactly?”

“Down the path, third oak on the right… Now, where was I?”

“I was going to deck you and steal your gold”, replied Laggins.

“Get on with it then!”

Laggins whacked the ogre as hard as he could with his stake, knocking him clean out.

LIZZIE

“All forms of alien life, clear the deck.”

When asked about the sign, Ray pointed. “You can’t see them? The bastards! They are sitting right there, mocking me.”

That was odd. No one had ever seen any alien around.

Everyone laughed. Ray was just the local oddball.

He thought he was a prepared oddball though. He had plenty of food and water in that boat, just in case.

When the electricity system collapsed mysteriously, Ray said “See! That’s why I didn’t want them to get comfy in my boat.”

But they did and they ate all of Ray’s supplies too.

SERENDIPITY

This job sucks.

Early hours of the morning – I’m bored, tired and half frozen to death.

‘A life on the ocean wave: See the world and live the dream!’ – That’s what they promised – more a nightmare, in my own opinion.

Plus I keep getting saddled with the crappiest jobs, like tonight, stuck out on deck peering into the darkness, while everyone else is partying down below.

I’d had enough, and sneaked below deck to try and warm up.

Which is why we hit the iceberg.

Such a shame about the ship and all those people… it wasn’t unsinkable, after all.

ZACKMANN

When you lived as long as I, you will have many regrets. Likely your biggest regrets are those you could have avoided with free professional advice. If only I’d asked the paint counter what paint was good for wooden decks they would have told me to use seal or stain for wooden decks and I never would have painted it. After failing to remove old paint with multiple power tools and chemicals, I am trying deck restoration paint but from the YouTube reviews heavy duty paint is still paint and still likely to bubble and chip in two years too.

TOM

Benny Decked Lucy

He knew it wasn’t the proper thing to do. His parents had told him it wasn’t right to knock the daylights out of his little sister, even if she provoked it. Grandma had a bit different take on the matter. “Make her throw the first punch.” So Benny found the one thing that would unhinged his sister and delivered it during dinner. Sure enough what Lucy heard wasn’t what his parents heard. What his parents saw was Lucy fly over the table and grabbed Benny by the throat. When Benny decked Lucy his parents had to implement new rules.

MARSHA

Title: Saturday Night

Every Saturday night around 6:30 I meet with eight of my nearest and dearest. We gather at a different location. Money and snacks are involved. We play a variety of games, and no one knows where some originated. One lady has dreamed a couple up, and I mean literally. Eights or if’n, gone fishing, leaping lena, the wings just to name a few. Some of them are wild and some are not, but all are either high or low and sometimes both. The thing we all agree on is, if things aren’t going your way get two new decks. Deal suckers.

NORVAL JOE

Rick Racker pulled on his own brown hood adjusting the eye holes to see clearly and sat at the table. He said, “Have a seat.”
Dergle sat in the remaining empty chair.
“Shouldn’t your hats be stylized armadillos?” he asked.
“Why?” Rick asked.
“Well, because, you know, they’re…” Dergle stammered.
“Julio. Cut the deck,” Rick said to one of the hooded men.
Julio produced a deck of cards, split it into two equal piles and set them in the middle of the table.
Rick took a card and turned it over.
“The Joker?” Dergle asked.
“Yeah.” Rick smiled. “The Joker.”

TURA

Deck
———
After designing cards for standard decks, Tarot, and Magic: The Gathering, I branched out into new areas of the ludocartological art. My creations include a deck for the Chinese Five Elements of Nature and Twenty-Nine Ranks of the Court, and a modern one crossing the Periodic Table with Gell-Mann’s Eightfold Way.

My Unity deck has just a single card, showing the eye of God. At solitaire you always win.

The Zen deck has no cards. The design on the back is a brush-drawn circle, the display case a solid block of wood. The sage plays without playing, and wins all.

PLANET Z

Officers used to shout “All hands on deck” to gather the crew so they could deal with a big emergency.

It also helped them weed out the jokers on the crew, who’d rush to the top deck and put their hands on the wooden slats.

A boot in the ass would knock them face down into the deck, and they’d learn not to make light during an emergency.

These days, you hear that expression everywhere. Network engineering, grocery store checkout lanes…

Less boots in the ass, though.

Unless it’s for a run on dominatrixes at the local brother, of course.

Weekly Challenge #498 – “Order”

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.

We’ve got stories by:

Tinny in her hidey hole

MUNSI

Order
By Christohper Munroe

I believe there is a fundamental order to the universe..

By which I mean that everything in the universe has a certain, specific order.

Linear time, I mean, I believe in linear time.

Yes, I’m aware that there are theories to account for the notion that time does NOT occur in a linear fashion, but while I find them fascinating to consider each in their turn, I couldn’t speak to the likelihood of any of their truth.

I don’t have the background necessary.

But I don’t begrudge said theories’ existence.

After all, in an orderly universe, everything has its place…

JEFFREY

The Verdict
by Jeffrey Fischer

The jury filed in, stone-faced. None would make eye contact with the defendant. The judge asked the forewoman, “Have you reached a unanimous verdict?” She said yes. “On the charge of capital murder, what is the decision of the jury?”

“Not guilty, Your Honor.”

The courtroom erupted. Friends of the victim shouted in disbelief, while friends of the defendant shouted in glee. “Order in the court!” demanded the bailiff, to little effect.

“You’re free to go,” the judge told the defendant.

“Thank you, Your Honor. May I say a few words?” The judge nodded.

“I want to thank the jury. Despite my obvious guilt, you bleeding hearts acquitted me so I can kill again. Thanks, suckers.”

The Natural Order of Things
by Jeffrey Fischer

I kept the car at a steady ten miles per hour over the speed limit. Lilly drummed her fingers but said nothing. “Yes?” I prompted.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, but, since you asked… Do you really need to drive that fast?”

“Not really sure, but it’s quite possible that I do. Do you have another question? I think you get three.”

“Are you going to be like this all weekend with my parents?”

“Almost assuredly. You have one more – make it a good one.”

“Why is it that you always end up driving, anyway?”

“Ah, that one I can answer. It’s the natural order of things. Man was meant to drive, woman was meant to sit in the passenger seat and complain.” I was still expounding on the theme when I lost control of the car and hit the guard rail.

CHARLIE

I placed my order on line. Using my iPad, I punched in size, toppings, extra toppings and type of crust, followed by my credit card number and address. I included the address with the cross street, and the GPS coordinates. I asked for the preferred delivery time, and the precautions that the delivery should take in my neighborhood. I mentioned the other delivery drones that work the neighborhood and the apartment complex, cautioning them about the two apartment blocks that frequently shoot down or drone-jack any delivery vehicles. The last four digits of my social security card completed the transaction.

2nd

Given the order by the office to attend to Mrs. Rummage, I was charged with attending to her personal needs as my first assignment. I was an in-home, part time, care nurse. Mrs. R. was ill, having relapsed as a recovering cancer patient. She was very polite and patient. My duties included personal care and making meals, minor cleaning, answering the phone, and snooping in her bureau drawers, refrigerator, and her medicine cabinet. We discussed a lot of personal things, and she told me that she only had one child, as dwarfism ran in the family on her husband’s side.

3rd

I like to afford order to my home and studio. Things are arranged in large, plastic bins if they are large, and in old, Altoids™ tins if they are small. I have a large and multifarious collection of electronic parts, watch parts, desert dioramas and human teeth. The teeth are carefully packed in cotton, and are divided into molars, incisors, canines and premolars. Dentists have asked me for consultations, and I make a nice little income by sharing my collection and knowledge. None of my friends are amused by my collection, but dentists and tooth fetishists appreciate my unique services.

LIZZIE

“That’s not the right order,” the man repeated.

His team ignored him. They wanted to solve the puzzle of the box quickly to move on to the next task and win the TV show challenge.

“Isn’t this a team effort?” he complained.

They clicked and rotated the sides of the box randomly.

“You’ve already tried that.”

Suddenly, they heard a click. Everyone froze.

“There’s a good click and there’s a bad click. Which one do you guys think this was?”

The box slowly unfolded to reveal a bright light.

A bad click… The show was suspended. The TV station closed.

RICHARD

Linguistics

They say that English is a difficult language to learn, but I have to disagree. Having spent a good many years now learning to speak a wide variety of languages, other than my own, I can confidently say that English is pretty simple, compared to some.

There’s no complications with tonality; no clicks or whistles, and once you get the hang of the relatively straightforward grammatical rules, the only real difficulty is one of contextualising the meanings of similar sounding words.

Of course, I’m a native English speaker – for foreigners, it’s tricky to words really in the get order right!

SERENDIPITY

“Are you ready to order now?”

The waitress was obviously growing impatient. I’d been at my table for over an hour, and I hadn’t yet decided what to have. I asked her what she’d recommend.

She suggested the steak.

I ordered: Medium rare, with peppercorn sauce, onion rings, chips and vegetables.

She was right – it was a good meal, and I was glad I’d taken her advice.

After all, your last meal should be a good one.

I looked around the crowded restaurant, estimating the body count, before starting the timer on the device.

Unfortunately, no time for a coffee.

TURA

Order
———
He stands before me, anxiously proferring his papers. I make a show of inspecting them closely, dragging the moment out. Finally I defecate on his hopes.

“Your papers are not in order.”

He gabbles of his wife and children. I gesture to the soldiers to remove him. He will be handed to whatever faction’s tinpot colonel first shows up to arrest “deserters”. His wife will exhaust her money on useless bribes, then I will take her and give her children over to the men.

Here, at this shithole of a border crossing, I am God. There is no finer pleasure.

TOM

If you can’t stand the heat

In my 20s my sister got me a job working as a short order cook. It was your basic Bar and Grill fair. Sandwiches, Fries, Soup. At first I was inept. Orders backed up and I was running my ass off trying to get food ready. Not having a background in food prep I had no idea that prep is everything. When I figured that out order replaced chaos. Further I started track the different sandwiches ordered daily and group them together. Sometime like Kevin Spacy in American Beauty I long for those days working in the Bar and Grill.

NORVAL JOE

Rick Racker, owner of the Bust-a-gut 24 hr gym knocked on the door of Dergle’s van.
Dergle looked at his watch. “1:30 am. What does Rick want?”
“I’ve got some people you should meet,” Rick said when he rolled the window down. “Come back into the gym.”
Rick showed Dergle to a back room where five figures bent around a table, each wearing bike shorts, sleeveless muscle shirts, and brown hoods over their heads. They turned as one and peered through their eye holes at Dergle.
“Mr. Vander Hoont. I Introduce you to the secret order of the Unarticulated Armadillo.

PLANET Z

For a while, it looked like every show on broadcast television would be a spinoff of Law and Order, CSI, and NCIS.

Even on PBS. For a pledge, you could get coffee mugs and tote bags with Richard Belzer’s character on them.

The networks tried to revive and reboot a few old series, but the only ones that worked were Battle of the Network Stars and Celebrity Apprentice. And those ended up featuring actors from Law and Order, CSI, and NCIS.

Not that anyone noticed. By then, everyone was watching Netflix, Hulu, and Amazon.

Or sleeping. People still do that.