Category: Weekly Challenge

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

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

The topic this week was “Even in the quietest moments…”

How about voting for your favorites?

Well, it looks like WordPress 3.2 and the poll system are not happy with each other:

Error: An error has occurred; Poll not created.

TJ
Alexandrea
Guard 13007
Zackmann
Tom
Terrazabyte
Norval Joe
Planet Z

Oh well.

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

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TJ

High school junior Skylar wished to know all that could be known. In his
quietest moments, he wished to command the sum total of human
experience. But he had to start somewhere. He’d programmed a string or
two of code to resemble benign background garble that attached, he hoped
discreetly, to social networking log-ins. He found the wifi hotspot at
the mall to be fertile hunting ground. He tripped a few error messages
along the way, but he was already able to view dozens of pages of people
he didn’t know and who’d never friended him. Next stop, cell phones.

EccentriceRant

***Still***

Sometimes, it isn’t in the bright light of day that everything becomes clear. The truth lurks in the shadows and it comes out at night.

He has been fast asleep beside me, peaceful and serene, for the last hour. I almost didn’t hear it, had it not been for the stillness surrounding us.

“Stella.”

Almost a whisper, barely audible even in the quietest moments like this.

“Stella. Stella.”

“Stella?” A question and a name, but to which I don’t, and can’t, answer.

He turns in his sleep.

Throughout the night, my lips remain sealed. And my eyes, wide open.

Guard 13007

Tick-tock, tick-tock, all day long. The clock went on and on. Slowly, driving me insane, though it seemed quite inane. They asked what were wrong, it could not be too long. Alone with that clock, it was quite a shock.

Words meaningless, I tried to write. Try as I might, the words stayed dull. This I must mull. Even in the quietest moments, the clock still ticked, still talked. It whispers of things to do.

The clock, the clock. Talk, talk. It tells me many things, tells me who to kill. Don’t worry, it hasn’t said your name yet today.

Zackmann

None of us knew what would happen with the computer implants. I wish I had stayed reluctant
to become a first adapter. Everyone thought the company was aboveboard, until the tower sent
a signal that made everyone with an implant walk to the nearest manufacturing plant of Future
Now Robotics Company making them become zombielike workmen, unknowingly making
weapons for the Robot Wars. Thank God the air force blew up the transmission tower.
Now, even in the quietest moments, I can still hear the call, the call of evil, calling me into the
dark, the call of The Computer King.

Tom

I suffer from ringing in the ears. Even in the quietest moments it rumbles on like a distance school bell. Never stopping. Never dropping below a whisper. When people call for a moment of silence they experience a pool of empty calm. A meditative state that somehow triggers an incoming flow of ethereal bliss. What I get is effectively the volume turned up to nine. All I can do is tuff if out fill 60+ seconds with a blinding rotation of random thoughts, happy for the returning flood of world noise that masks the ringing. My world has no silence.

TerrazaByte

I have found that even in the quietest moments, when all that surrounds us has been silenced, there are so many other things still clamoring for our attention.

It’s those noisy little things that we tend to push to the back of our thoughts, thinking that we can deal with them at another time.

They never go away; they just sit there making their presence known… even in our quietest of moments.

So put down that cell phone, close that lid on the laptop and go take care of the little things and your next quiet time will be truly quiet.

Norval Joe

Fly Paper Boy lay on his bunk, fully dressed, still unwilling to believe he was in prison. Vinyl man, just a few feet below on the bottom bunk, wheezed and rasped in the depths of sleep.
“He’s asleep,” he muttered. Even in the quitest moments, when the other criminals snoozed soundlessly, the boy couldn’t stop his racing thoughts.
“This can’t be happening,” he thought for the thousandth time. “I’m one of the good guys.”
“It’s under the porch,” Vinyl man said between snores. “I buried the money under the old woman’s house.”
Suddenly the situation seemed brighter to the boy.

Planet Z

Even in the quietest moments, you have to keep your guard up.

The mad mathematicianess Lisa Common-Denominator is always scheming… plotting…

We allow no paper in her cell.
No writing implements.
Not even chalk. We cannot risk it.

However, she still manages to swipe materials. And use her blood.

A check, on which she’s added zero. “And zero cents.” No change there.

A timer, on which she’s added zero. From thirty seconds to three minutes. Six times longer, not ten.

A calendar, on which she’s added zero.

July… fortieth?

The prison walls rumble, and then I hear the sirens.

Escape!

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

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

The topic this week was Apple Pie

How about voting for your favorites?

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

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Zackmann

How can you be cooking apple pies at a time like this? Can’t you see the city is under siege and
being destroyed?
Relax dude, had to.
Why
Because we are out of pumpkin.
Theres a zombie in a spacesuit what should do.
Chillax, tell him were not very smart but we love Old Time Radio then point towards college
housing.
Zombie says Doctor Despicable is coming and you bake pies, are you sure your brainless?
Of course I am did you hear me use the words Dude and chillax?
When Doctor Despicable gets here I’ll lunching on college brains .

Pies, oh I love pies and destruction. What a wonderful day with more explosions than the Fourth
of July. Some wise citizen baked me a whole front deck full of apple pies. What is wrong, were
you out of pumpkin?
Sorry Doctor Despicable but all our pumpkins disappeared through a mysterious hole in the
space time continuum.
Lobo, load the pies into the Winnebago. To show my gratitude, I will not intentionally destroy
your house. Did you happen to see a zombie in a spacesuit or an odd man eating beef jerky or
mayonnaise sandwiches and babbling about Tony Danza?

Guard 13007

The editor rejected my manuscript. I called him up to ask about it, “Why did you reject my writing? It was good! I had extant word choice!” I picked a word at random from the wall, trying to remember what ‘extant’ meant.

“What? That doesn’t even make sense! And what’s with the word ‘enunciate’ all over? People don’t ‘enunciate’! They yell, scream, whisper, say!”

“Well my characters do enun… uh, enunciate!”

“And why the hell is it titled ‘Apple Pie’? That makes the least sense of all!”

“It makes perfect sense!” I yelled back, hanging up and grabbing another slice.

Tom

My oldest friend is a descendent of Johnny Appleseed. Seems more that just apple seeds got sow across the Ohio River valley. His mom had this recipe for Apple Pie that has been dated around 1760. Some speculated it could be from Elizabeth Chapman who handed it down to her son John. I’ve had some of that pie and can safely say if Mr. Chapman infected the settlers of the early Midwest with that heroin of desserts he would have had folk clambering for apple trees. I still have a hankering for a steaming piece of Mrs. Throne’s apple pie.

Danny

“What do I want for dessert? 　Hmm, I always imagined NJ Governor Chris Christie running on the platform of: 　”Vote for me, I’m as American as Apple Pie.” 　It’s a sick, twisted vision planted in my head. 　Clearly I’ve gone to far this time. 　I love apple pie, now I can’t get the image of that bloated corpse every time I dig into my favorite dessert. 　Again, I have desecrated a dessert by my sad yet demented view of partisan politics in the United States. 　So I think I’ll have the cherry pie instead.” 　The waiter, sighing heavily, walks away.

Steven the Nuclear Man

She struggles in the trunk. The Chevy’s steel frame muffles her
thumps and cries; the cotton in our ears does the rest.

The CEO of EMI glances at me, but I stare determinedly ahead. This is
too important. Too much rides on today. This isn’t our normal gig,
but it’s one we have to play.

She is gorgeous, even tied, even gagged. I knew – KNEW – how she was
responsible from everything from Greensleeves to Blueberry Hill.

We shoot her, bullets thrashing her flesh, her body tumbling down the
dusty levee. Our careers in the music industry are safe once again.

Norval Joe

The family across the street had a fourth of july party and invited us out of a neighborly spirit.
We had all the traditional food and music. There were tamalies, carne asada, and pasoli. For desert we had churros.
The was a mariachi band that played all the popular favorites. Songs by Banda archangel er quince, Los Tigres del norte and Los Angeles Negros.
Before the fireworks we busted open a pinata of President Obama.
Two months ago, they threw a party almost identical to this one.
I thought, this time they’d at least have apple pie.
Welcome to California.

TJ

Martin ordered a slice of apple pie and took a seat against the window.
With the afternoon sun streaming behind him he had the best perspective
on the coffeeshop while he himself resisted the notice of others. This
bookstore café was also one of the three best spots in the mall for
scoping out the food court and more to the point, the wifi hot spots. He
wanted to do some actual epsionage and discovered his notebook wireless
computer had been encountering a homegrown virus here. He’d been
narrowing suspects for awhile now, and was closing in on… The Hacker.

Planet Z

Ronnie came up with a lot of crazy pie-in-the-sky ideas, but an actual pie factory in the sky was his craziest.

He was going to bake pies in the sky for passengers.

“Why not bake them on the ground and carry them onboard?” we said.

“It’s all about the smell,” he replied. “That fresh-baked pie in the oven smell. Oh, that aroma!”

Now, this was the thirties, and airplanes weren’t the huge jetplanes they are today. Not enough room.

So he talked to the Germans, and they agreed.

As the Hindenberg burned, Ronnie screamed: “My pies! Oh, the oven mitts!”

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

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

The topic this week was Pogo Stick

How about voting for your favorites?

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

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Boomer Bob

“Ben, why are you so jumpy? “
“I can’t help it Maw, I got what Paw says are ants in my pants.”
“Ben ride the horsey outside the store, okay?”
“Okay! Giddy up Silver” I sternly commanded as I rode the well worn plastic painted steed.
The quarters dropped in and off I went to the Wild West. It wasn’t until Skippy saw me and laughed that I felt embarrassed.
“I bet you can’t ride this horse like I can?” I responded.
Skippy pushed me off and mounted the ride while I rode off with his pogo stick.

TJ

A flood is maybe
the quietest
natural disaster.

Storms rage, tornados howl,
Hurricanes splinter buildings
like an explosion.

An overland flood
Walks unhurried over levees.
It swims into your basement
And chokes you beneath
A placid surface

Probably it won’t kill us.

It will take our property.
For some of us, it will take everything

It might take our health – mold, spores, sanitation

As the waters recede
And the devastation surfaces,

It will take our mental health.

You find debris washed in with the wreckage,
A doll, some book, a pogo stick.

Whose was it?

What was lost?

And why?

Lynlea

It was early morning and the group was excited.

The water was calm and the boat large enough so they could bring the dog along.

The captain gave his orders, “Sit ye down and keep ye hands inside the boat.”

The boat lurched. “It’s always watching,” he warned. “Throw sandwiches if ye must, but keep that dog away from the side.”

Everyone peered out into the middle of the lake.

Large ripples appeared.

“Here she comes you fools, hold tight…”

The head appeared; the dog suddenly vanished.

The captain laughed: “I never tire of that Ogopogos’ shtick!”

Guard 13007

“I was cleaning the garage yesterday,” I told John, “guess what I found.”

“What?” he asked, the same question everyone says when you tell them to guess. I considered hanging up, he was being kinda normal.

“You have to guess!”

“You found a bug? A potion?”

“No, those are from old challenges. I found something new for the next one, a pogo stick!”

I waited for a reply, one that never came. I knew they had gotten him for sure now, he was a Normal. I had to act quickly, and challenge the King with my pogo stick!

Steven the Nuclear Man

Sarah’s hand on my shoulder was soothing. “Relax, Jase. Convergent evolution doesn’t have to happen the same way everywhere.”

I shoved words through clenched teeth. “Yes. It. Does. That’s what it bloody well means.” An alien moved past the viewport, its body telescoping on the upward arc. “And then with Charles…” I stopped as his spacesuited figure went by, riding an alien like a pogostick. I spluttered wetly in indignation.

Sarah laughed. “It’s harmless. They like it, so hush.” She turned to get a communique. “Oh.”

“What?”

Sarah grinned. “We just found a planet where life looks like hula-hoops.”

Tom

We here in Pogo take our weights and measurements quite seriously. The Pogo yard is precisely 3.14 Baxters. Named after our glorious leader Boffo Baxter, died in a tragic chainsaw juggling accident. Each summer the daughter of the invincible involution replace yard stick all over the country side. Row upon row of red sticks gentle swaying in the wind. Reminding one and all of the immutable malleability of measurement. There’s a move on to make the PogoStick the national symbol replace that antiquated possum. We could lose the national motto too. We have met the enemy and he is Us.

Zackmann

Yes, grandpa I know it was intellectually stimulating and funny but comic strips don’t run forever.
Well, except Peanuts and Blondie. Most people only know your favorites from those history of
comics books.
Grandpa, I like your comedy routine for the talent show but most people will not understand your
Pogo schtick. Let me help you rewrite some on the jokes so younger people will understand
them.
Okay Jimmy but only if you promise to bring that stick with a spring and the baseball bat just in
case the zombies break through the wall outside the auditorium like last year.

Vinny T, Vince, Terrazabyte, Fricker, that one dude

Some days are meant to be enjoyed at a snail’s pace. Today was one of them.
It started when I awoke to the most magnificent aura of color filling the room as the sun poured in its daily cup of life.
Out the window and across the shimmering lake, I caught a glimpse of Mother Nature as an eagle caught its morning meal from the water.
Some days are meant to be breathed in slowly.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Took my breath away and squished my snail as my son decided to ride his Pogo Stick down the stairs.
Hello… 911?

Norval Joe

Philemon Mopani rolled over on his grass mat and groaned. He could never sleep long on the hard ground.
He got to his feet and hopped to the door.
Born with cerberal palsy, his small body twisted toward the right, his shorter side. The leg was stiff from years of spastic reflexes. As sped across the village to the outhouse, he bounced off his toes like a boy on a pogo stick.
The sudden hush from the night birds warned him something was wrong. Through cracks in the rough wood he saw the army of demons spread through his village.

Planet Z

The cavalry designation in our armed forces used to suggest a form of mounted soldier, typically on a horse.

However, these days, you’ll find armored and air cavalry units in various transports and combat vehicles.

There were experiments with other means of transportation, however, such as bicycle, war-dolphin, and pogo stick.

Despite initial successes during testing, each experiment failed, sometimes in quite lethal fashion to the troops (not to mention the war-dolphins.)

A strictly ceremonial platoon of mounted soldiers and their horses remains, although they do provide plenty of horse manure to fill flaming bags set upon the commandant’s doorstep.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

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

The topic this week was Read

How about voting for your favorites?

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

---

TJ

OK, so this week, my actual 101st week since joining you all on this little adventure, I decided to observe the occasion by selecting one word from each of my previous 100 weeks’ 100 word story entries.

This proved to be improbably complicated – up to and including the fact that not once among those previous 10,000 words did this week’s actual topic appear, so … well, you’ll see how I handled it.

No prize for the winners beyond a smug sense of satisfaction. And since I have no idea how this will format or what it will even look like when Laurence posts it, line breaks will be as … indicated. Enjoy!

————————————-
Crack the Code

Along10 with3 physical98 training86 for9 speed14 and6 spy19 skills97- he59 also62 spent41 two21 weeks2 trekking66 through60 the22 woods87 with5 his49 Uncle76 Joe67 for61 survival30 training94- Martin99 spent95 part48 of63 his51 summer100 crafting39 a64…

stocks1 -seemed28 -recipe4 -quirky7 -warped36 -nudist20 //
cortex45- forsooth44- midnight17- irresponsible8.

Can70 you77 figure58 it65 out68?

————————————-

“Haggis31-nanotechnology15-muppety40-nymphs37-batty35 //
opera74-incoming38-elegant50 //
hedgerow78-tuxedo89-monster46-pudding73-divert91-Spencer96-Jaybird88-smartest53-workbench12 //
Watson93-doctor75-baristas23-bandaged71 //
shooter84-stand82-cooking83-staring26-platypus42 //
taxicab34 //
Jazzile11, //
Angels79-installations13-radiator80 //
Halloween69-xeriscape55-circuitous18-foreman90-themselves56 //
tattered25-vociferous81 //
overtaking43-uniforms29-gleeful32 //
History33-autotune47-denizens16-murdered54-government92-chrome85-ordered24 //
misery52-monstrosities57-Warren72-adventure27!”

Tom

Llewellyn Esterlin was a hard read. In the four years I observed her in high school I never saw her once talk to another soul. She didn’t have a lock partner. She never answered or was even asked a question in class. Whenever she walked down the hall from Herr Heck’s History class to Miss Mourse’s Math class an expanding bubble would form around her. I always wonder was she shy or merely transcendent. Of the 1000s people I have known, she is my lingering regret. Funny, Llewellyn is the late person I thought of as the darkness closed in.

Danny

I just love how the establishment of this country assumes I cannot read. High school graduate, degree meaningless in this day and age, college graduate, not a technical degree, so I go sit and spin, and Law School graduate. Ladies and gentlemen, we are witnessing the fall of Babylon. What? You bible thumpers are obviously not reading your bibles, fricken hypocrites. Bottom line, I don’t care if you call yourselves Republicans (Nazis), or Democrats (Pussies), I know what you douche bags in Congress are up to, you offend my morals, my values, and you are all traitors to the United States.

Zackmann

You rat bastard.
Does that mean you didn’t like my book?
No, I loved the last two thirds of your book since it was No Name by Wilkie Collins.
You got the audio book didnt you since the paperback was The Woman in White, the ebook was
Moonstone and the hardcover was My Lady’s Money. Because of how I ended the story I didnt
want to readers to feel disappointed with too small a book or be able to peek at the end to see
what happened.
Planet blowing up killing everyone on page 114. I didnt see that coming.

Steven the Nuclear Man

I pull the card from the pile of paper and read it.

“I’m sorry I lied to you, Dad.” It is a heart cut from notebook paper.

Fucking appropriate. I crumple the yellowed sheet.

I don’t remember the child in the school pictures. That kid’s gone.

I remember the times my son attacked me. The times he bit, kicked,
struck me as I held him, whispering I loved him while waiting for the
police to arrive.

I remember finding the knife he said he’d kill us with.

I read this year’s “Happy Father’s Day” cards and try not to die.

Terazzabyte

Two gentlemen, one in a very expensive camel colored tweed jacket, the other in a dirty and dingy grey hoodie with holes in it.

Two lives, one that studied abroad after earning his masters in philosophy, the other studied philosophy in the streets of Brooklyn while earning a living.

Two players squared off face to face, one reading the stoic eyes of his opponent, the other calculating the moves he must make to bring the other man down.

One Chess board lays open in-between the two combatants while two friends see no difference whatsoever in the man across from himself.

Chris the Nuclear Kid

My name is Chris. Three days ago I found a book with a title that couldn’t be made out. I flipped through the pages and stopped at one to read it. Human life is of great value, it can be a source of power. By obtaining power, one can create good and glorious things or evil and devastating things. ‘The Ring of Creation’ was made with the four elements and human life. I stopped reading.

“So, you’re the chosen one.” A man walked over then sat down.

I looked up. “The chosen one?”

“Yes, I’ll explain soon.”

Norval Joe

“‘Read the fine print,’ my lawyer said, ‘They can incarserate you,'” Fly Paper Boy grumbled as he walked past cell after cell of laughing criminals.
“I hate to do this,” the prison warden said as he walked with the boy. “Super heroes are to be tried as adults, so we have to put you in general lockup.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. The hospital ward is closed,” the warden said as he unlocked the cell. “You’ll have a cellmate.”
A man glare from the bottom bunk, his body covered with bandages.
“Make sure you keep your hands to yourself,” Vinyl Man growled.

Peisi Tan

He held out an anxious palm. “What do you see?” he asked timidly. But his heart was feeling especially rebellious. If it had legs, it could outrun a cheetah.

“I see nothing but inexplicable amounts of moisture and broken lines.”

He sighed a hasty cocktail of exasperation and frustration – served cold with a wedge of angry bitterness. “Can you tell me something I don’t know?” he finally snapped. For too long, this was the only reading that he had been getting.

If only he could wake and see that it was his reflection that he had been talking to.

Planet Z

So, everything’s a fucking mess because you thought I knew about it, but you didn’t bother to tell me about it.

Oh, it’s my fault?

How exactly?

Wait… I want to try something.

I want you to think of a number between one and ten.

Got one?

Good.

Think about it. Think carefully about it.

Okay, ready for me to tell you what it is?

Here we go… it’s…

I have no fucking idea.

Because I don’t read minds.

I’m a divinator, not a telepath.

Now help me find my dowsing rod. The neighbors want to dig a new well.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

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

The topic this week was Toxic

Let’s see if PollDaddy is working again…

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

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Tom

Stay away from Benny he’s toxic. What ya mean? He’s covered in Comic Goo! Goo? A sticky paste of desire and despair that takes the wire brush of righteousness to remove from the soul, but in a casual exchange of social pleasantries can become smeared firmly across your psyche. “You’re Joking?” “Don’t say I didn’t warn ya.” After 10 minutes with Ben Frank staggered back to me, looked like he’d been run over by an Iditarod sled crew. “I feel like crap,” said Frank. “Better take this before it hardens.”

Chocolate or vanilla — two scopes should do it.

Zackmann

Martin asked the old man did you look in the restroom. That would be called the head said
Captain Cheyenne. You dont what to go in there. Why Captain is it toxic? Not exactly but our
cook is good at Texican cuisine and yesterday was chili night. The crew likes toxicly spicy chili.
Captain Cheyenne, how do I get off the ship its not canon. Prepare to fire. No Story canon.
Belay my last.Sorry lad once your caught up in a story ark it is had to get out until the course is
run or in this case sailed.
zackmann

“Paul E Cooley the doctor will see you now.” “I see from your chart you are a plushophile who
came in for Yarn Burn and dont I remember something about you writing some detective noire
muppet slash fiction?” “I did nothing wrong, they were over 18” “That might be part of the
problem because some of the older muppets were constructed using toxic dyes. I am afraid you
will need to use this salve and wear undyed underwear for several weeks. Dont feel too bad
because this condition is not uncommon and has become known as the Rob Balder Disorder”

AM Earley

The protestors had been as close to the faclity as they were allowed for six hours whent the reporter showed up.
Ranting protesters were not the fast way int the anchor chair, but . . . .
“They are silling toxins into our drinking water, the lead protester exclaimed passionatly. “It’s effecting our
lives and ruining our children’s health. We brought six kids who have been profoundly affected.”
Pointing out only five children present started the search. When the search ended the reporter was exstatic.
Toddlers found dead in hot cars are trgic. It was also ratings gold. The reporter couldn’t wait to find out who
would be put on trail for this.

Steven the Nuclear Man

You’ll come home after a long day. A day spent trying to forget the things you’d said the night before. A day spent remembering the hateful words your lover said.

Those surprising, unexpected words, like uncorking Chianti and finding frothing sour vinegar boiling out of the narrow throat.

Of course there’s problems, you’ll rehearse, opening the door, but we can–

The first splash of acid – or maybe for you it’s a gun, or a knife, or an iron, or a bat – takes you unprepared.

Great minds think alike, you’ll muse as your lover purges the toxic relationship from their life.

Relish

It was too late to turn back, fix the mistake. The toxic error shredded his body and twisted his mind into a red cyclone of terror. He had eaten the fleshy, spore-bearing mushroom like it was a piece of popcorn, sucked on the edges, and let it slide down his healthy throat. Picking perfect mushrooms was his art-form; he was thought to be an excellent amateur mycologist. A sea of red poured through his body like toxic paint, warm as candle wax. He knelt down on the path where he had found the mushroom, and he gave up on himself.

Danny

Jack woke up from a deep sleep, ready to take on the next challenge in his life. Jack then asked himself, “How many shots can I drink in one sitting before my blood alcohol level becomes so toxic that it starts to damage my internal organs?” Jack pulled the bottle of grain alcohol off the shelf , and poured himself a shot in a dirty glass sitting on the table. He chugged the shot down, and poured another. The second shot burned going down, the third shot didn’t burn at all. Jack’s body was found the next day. Question answered, three.

Terrazabyte

Putrid… that’s the only word that describes the stench that enveloped my nostrils that day.

For each and every breath I took, a bit more of that toxic aroma filled my olfactory and overwhelmed my nerves. I became unbalanced as my knees began to shake and give way. My vision flickered and proceeded to close in from all sides as if some tiny being was slowly walking from the back of my brain to the front, turning off the lights in each section and closing the door.

Light became dark, dark became comfort. Rescued was I, from Aunt Agatha’s meatloaf.

TJ

Analyzing the video he captured, Martin carefully selected screencaps
that most usefully identified Miss Harch’s extended changing-room
ogling and avoided the nudity beyond her. Though nearly all the girls in
the video would by now be 18, he didn’t wish, in applying his
extortion bid, to open himself to toxic counter-charges of child
pornography should one of them still have a birthday coming. The images
he chose were, as it turned out, effective. Miss Harch would excuse him
from fifth-period gym class for his junior year. He had all summer to
plan how best to use that free time.

Norval Joe

The attorney open his briefcase and looked over his glasses at the boy.
“We have a problem, Fly Paper Boy,” he said and passed a folder across the table. “Vinyl Man is filing charges based on the Super Hero Collateral Damage Reform Act of 2008. He says you’ve permanently scarred him.”
“I caught him red handed,” the boy said, “besides, my adhesive is non-toxic.”
“True,” the lawyer said, “you’re glue’s not toxic, but the solvent to separate you is. It has acetone in it. Vinyl man has burns over 90% of his body and a pretty good case against you.”

Planet Z

Paul was finest chef in the world, but when your ex-wife is the finest food critic, you find yourself closing a lot of restaurants.

One review had used the word “toxic” seven times.
Another had just been a skull and crossbones.
The last listed the number for poison control.

This time, she wasn’t going to ruin the moment. He gambled everything, spent all he had, called in every favor.

There would be no bad review this time. Back in the kitchen, her body was stuffed into the bottom of the deep-freezer.

Revenge was a dish best served cold, after all.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

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

The topic this week was Ocean

There’s an error with PollDaddy and WP-Polls at the moment, so here’s the authors for this week:

• Searaven
• Guard13007
• Tom
• Kyle
• Zackmann
• TJ
• Daniel W.
• TerrazaByte
• Monroe J.
• Norval Joe
• Peisi The Wannabe
• Steven the Nuclear Man
• Planet Z

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

---

Seaeaven

Hiking on the ocean is beautiful. After we set up camp at the end of a day, I went to gather wood for the fire.

“Be careful,” said the Scoutmaster. I listened to him about as much as I ever did.

I walked along the path, gathering wood. Rounding a bush, I almost ran into a black bear five feet away.

We stared at each other. Then, we each turned and ran in opposite directions.

That night, as I lay there, I knew every sound I heard was that bear looking for me. Even the waves crashing on the sand.

Guard13007

Could there ever be? Such a wonderful thing as the sea? The poem died after that, a stupid grin on my face. The ocean was so lovely, but I still couldn’t come up with a poem to encapsulate its wonders.

I walked down the street to the heavy wall blocking the beach from the city. Too bad I could never find a way around it, every time there was a way, the bodies showed the way to close it, and they always closed it quickly. Someday I will make it, I will get around to see the monsters for myself.

Tom

Danny Ocean was cool, well actually Frank Sinatra was cool. Here’s a man who pretty much puts Las Vegas on the map and he makes a movies about robbing said city. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you. That’s cool. Event the remake with George Clooney, Danny Ocean was cool. American’s have this love affair with heist films. We can resist the man with a plan. My personal favorite has Maximilian Schell in the Danny Ocean role with a plan to rob the Topkapi museum. What’s cool about every iteration of Danny Ocean is the plan does them in.

Kyle

I fell over the side of the boat and felt the cool ocean water embrace me.

Beneath me I saw a sea turtle. He gestured for me to follow. I swam down; the water rushed by like wind over my skin. I couldn’t believe how fast I was going.

My hands felt weird. I saw that there were webbed membranes forming between my fingers.

My feet stretched and my toes became flippers.

I felt calm.

I sped along and saw the turtle beside me. Our eyes met and I remembered my old friend.

I exhaled bubbles and I could breathe.

Zackmann

Martin was in the middle of the ocean which was really weird since there has been no ocean in
North Dakota for thousands of years.
He saw a squarish ship. Thankfully someone threw him a rope and pulled him out of the water.
On the deck an older man asked “Have you seen my son?” another said “Beware of ” Martin
asked “the one legged man?” “Don’t be silly boy, be ware of the hairy mango!” “What sort of a
ship is this?” Uniformed man said “Hello, I am Captain Cheyenne. I am afraid your stuck in a
story ark”

TJ

More than simple surveillance, Martin knew part of being a spy is
learning leveragable information. So it was with this dark motive he
targeted Chelsea Ocean, a senior. The mission he set for himself was to
discover intimate knowledge of her person and threaten to tell a geek,
so the geek would then seem to have intimate knowledge of her person. He
installed the video transmitter in the broken towel dispenser in the
girls lockerroom. Mission failure when the gym mistress, Miss Harch,
stood in front of that dispenser. However, he did learn Miss Harch
enjoyed watching the girls shower.

Daniel W.

“As it turned out, it wasn’t global warming that caused the ocean levels to rise; it was the return of Atlantis. The reappearance of the continent caused tsunamis and flooding along both coasts of the Atlantic Ocean–”

“Yes, yes – we know that,” the Senator snapped. “Your expedition was to find out how and why Atlantis returned.”

“According to the Atlantians, every five millennia a continent is set adrift through the multiverse, hopping from one dimension to the next at random intervals. When it returns, another takes its place…” I hesitated before delivering the bad news. “North America is next.”

TerrazaByte

SeaWorld in Orlando, FL is home to Bob & Tony, the smartest dolphins in the world. Yesterday, a famous oceanographer was testing his latest device that interprets the dolphins’ clicks and squeaks into an audible speech that we all can understand.
This device confirmed Bob & Tony’s true intelligence.

“Hey Sly, why do you think they keep calling us Bob & Tony?”

“Not sure Floppy Fin, they’re not the brightest of species that we’ve had the opportunity to train.”
“Now for this training session, let’s work on getting them to climb a ladder over our pool and serve us dinner.”

Monroe J.

The Ocean of Ideas is a rocky one. Rolling waves and cresting swells of ideas and concepts churn the deep fathoms of the subconscious. However, reality is a seagull that pecks you in the head distracting you from this Posidean rollercoaster. I swatted the gull away and I got hit starboard side by an idea for a story. I almost capsized. I altered my course and pointed the prow of my boat towards the glistening horizon determined to master this Ocean of Ideas. It was then I saw a friend whizz by in his clockwork speedboat. Ah dammit. Splash!

Norval Joe

Kelp swayed back and forth as the dark green water rose and fell among the pilings of the pier.
“You can’t talk to me, Skip,” Feruncula whispered. “You know my dad will flip if he sees us together.”
“Well, run away with me,” Skip said with unhindered enthusiasm. “Forget Daddy and come explore the oceans with me.”
“You know I can’t do that,” Feruncula said. “I’m a barnicle and your…. planton. Besides, I don’t love you.”
She must have seen the stricken look in his beady eyes.
“Don’t be sad,” she said, “there are plenty of fish in the sea.”

Peisi

She sighed. The sight. A patch of blue embellished with tiny sparkling jewels of sunshine that twinkled like stars in the heat. A cloud of white stretching across the sky to form that parallel in the distance that never ceased to grow. As a child, she would watch it shimmer as she worked to bury her feet in the sand. She would lie on her back with her eyes closed as she willed for the salty waves to take her far away. But as the waters turned redder and herself older, she realized, that it was never going to happen.

S.T.N.M.

The oceans of Venus slip over my head. Finally, I can breathe properly again.

Raina slides into the thick atmosphere to my right. Her shape, like mine, resembles the long cylinder of a porpoise. Radar and telemetry keep us together despite the waves and currents of the thick atmosphere. I remember the fiction of my father’s youth.

“It’s like the orbital elevator ships are fishing,” I commoed.

Her right eye fixes on me. “The only thing to fish for in this hellhole is us.” A flick of her tail sends her toward base.

I still watch out for Venusian kraken.

Planet Z

In fourteen ninety-two
Columbus sailed
The ocean blue

That’s what your teachers would like you to believe.

Worthless rubbish.

He never went with his first three expeditions.

Too cowardly.

Instead, he paid off the harbormaster, and he was ferried out to the ship before it docked.

By the time the fourth voyage was ready to set out, Columbus wanted to see all the wonders of the New World with his own eyes, instead of relaying them secondhand from his explorers and sailors.

Bad idea.

Stranded in Jamaica for a year, his men told him “No more voyages, you incompetent fool.”

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

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

The topic this week was Bugs

There’s an error with PollDaddy and WP-Polls at the moment, so here’s the authors for this week:

• Whiskey Day
• TJ
• Norval Joe
• Tom
• Zackmann
• Steven the Nuclear Man
• Daniel
• Planet Z

I’ll work on the polling bug later today, okay?

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

---

Whiskey Day

If I had known it was the last time we would speak, I would have talked about something more significant than bugs. I look back on that conversation with a mix of curiosity and sadness. That such a mundane conversation, so banal and unworthy, would later take on the importance of the Last Words Spoken between us.

I hold each recalled phrase to the light, and examine every angle for deeper meaning. My desperation to see a missed clue will never be satisfied. They’re just words.

“I’ll call someone next week,” he lied.

I wish I could remember my reply.

TJ

Martin knew that spying required more than patience. He needed to manage
electronic surveillance as well. He set for himself a task of
overhearing something he wasn’t meant to. To this purpose, he tore
apart the innards of an old baby monitor from the shed, broke it down
and, consulting a circuitry schematic diagram in his physics textbook,
hooked the microphone and transmitter to a 9-volt battery and hid it in
his parents’ bedroom, with the receiver in his own. Mission
accomplished. The next morning he removed the bug, and set for himself a
new task: Unhearing his father’s safeword.

Norval Joe

Cans were stacked in corners of the living room and under the coffee table. He couldn’t just throw them away; they were a Christmas present from his mother. In January the anticipation was so intense he could hardly stand it. He marked off each day on the calendar until it arrived. When his first “Canned Ham of the Month” came he ate it ravenously. When February’s came, he made the seasoned meat last all month. When March’s present arrived, he twisted the little metal pin around the seal of the can. It had barely opened when the bugs swarmed out.

Tom

Bugs Bunny. Is that a rabbit with six legs or insect with long floppy ears? “What the hell are you talking about? Bugs Bunny is a Warner Brother’s cartoon character, he’s sort of Mickey Mouse with attitude. “Oh, he’s mouse shaped.” “No, he’s sort of people shaped.” “Why not call him Homo Bunny then?” “No one is going to watch a cartoon called Homo Bunny! He’s called Bugs because he is irritating, just like you. “I’m trying to get a modicum of specificity here, a rabbit who looks like a person, acts like a mouse with a personality of a scorpion

Yup. Stupid.

Zackmann

Tell me Bob, what do you think of new bug verses old bug. The New bug is safer and more
complicate and has a harder time functioning if broken than the old bug which is more
dangerous but more reliable than the new bug. The old bug came from Germany then people
started getting from Mexico and the new bug comes from Mexico but most people still think it
comes from Germany. Do you like the new bug or the old bug more? As you know Bob we will
likely have to sample both to produce this years flu shots.

Steven the Nuclear Man

Marcus’ fingers clung to the ceiling plaster, watching the the rotund mayor and short, compact priest. They always run to Rome when things get bad, he thought, tongue running over his fangs.

“Father, vampires exist.” The mayor wiped sweat from his brow. “They threatened -”

“That you had to give them someone every week or they’d drain your family instead. Standard tactic.” The priest frowned. “You made sure we aren’t observed?”

The mayor nodded. “My assistant swept for bugs.”

The priest began to speak, then Marcus dropped the bloodless mayor’s daughter on the desk.

“Not what he meant,” the vampire said.

Daniel

“Prepare the pesticide bombs, soldier,” I said, lowering the binoculars. I’ve been in many engagements against the bugs, though never successfully. We fought hard, but when this encounter was over, as usual, I was the only human survivor. Another city fell because of my failures.

“Why? Why kill everyone but me?” I sobbed in the depopulated ruins.

The swarm amassed, bug upon bug, into a humanoid shape. Tiny wings beat air through an artificial throat, and it/they spoke for the first time. “They die because it’s us or them, but your experiment created us; we will not kill our father.”

Planet Z

The irony of bugs in the control software for the cybernetic cockroaches caused Dr. Gregor to quietly laugh at his console before going back over the code and making the necessary corrections.

Using cockroach-mounted cameras and microphones, he had created the perfect espionage tool. Just crawl a few of these critters into a room and you could eavesdrop on a critical meeting or roam them over classified documents.

Simple and easy spycraft.

As for the unit that had been found in his assistant Olga’s shower, well, he was just testing the waterproofing compound on the microcircuitry and anti-fogging lenses on the tiny camera.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

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

The topic this week was Pick Two

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

---

Tom

Oh those Crazy Rice Students are at it again. This time it’s Extreme Monopoly. The uptick is the fun money has been replaced with real money. And the downtick is it’s now a drinking game, land on a property do a shot of rum and Coca-Cola. Alpha Omega house is semi sponsoring the event along with Rudy’s Bail Bond. 200 yards of polypropylene has been duck tape to the entire bottom floor. The brothers from Chi Delta will have there 1920 ambulance parked in front in case we need a quick run to the RCM. Let the good times roll.

Zackmann

He walked into the school and heard someone inside the Vice principals office Scream “I’m Not
the One whose crazy. You’re the one whose crazy”
Oh Daddy thumbs up for bringing me the ink cartridge before schooltime. We need to print fliers
for our Monopoly tournament. This job has been a new beginning for me. I can’t wait until I can
introduce you to my supervisor whose currently practicing for his Suicidal Tendencies tribute
band.
I’ll take you go out for supper to celebrate and I’ll buy you Malabo Rum but I hope you can stop
at just two.

Daniel W.

“I can’t wait until schooltime!” she said.

“You realize you can jump ahead, right?” I generally skip schooltime – until I need knowledge, that is. Wish I could avoid worktime as easily…

“I do things in natural order. You know that!”

“Seriously, love, why don’t you choose to live in an era before time travel was invented? You’d fit in better there…”

Her fingers caressed my cheek. “Because I’d never see you again.”

How does she do that? Say the right words without several trial runs. I will never understand her, and I will always love her. I know, I’ve checked.

Chris the Nuclear Kid

“Sam!” my mom called. We had just moved into a three story house. I
went downstairs to help mom unpack. It would be a new beginning.
Later that day I went up to explore the third floor of the house.
There was a long hallway with two rooms on each side. At the end of
the hall there was a door. I went and opened it. There was a ladder
connected to the wall of the room. I looked up and saw a door, like
one you would see on the bottom of a tree house. I pushed. Locked.

I went back downstairs. “Hey mom, do you have the key to the attic?”
“Yes, why?” she replied.
“I wanted to see what’s up there.”
“Okay, one second.” she said. A little while later she handed me a key.
“Thanks mom.”
“You’re welcome.” she replied. I went back to the attic door.
“Okay, here goes nothing.” I unlocked the door and went in. it was
dark and cold in the attic but then I saw a game. “Monopoly?” I
reached out to take the box but I could not touch it. It was like a
ghost . “Well darn!”

Danny

I anxiously looked out the back window, Terri had just pulled into the parking lot. I opened the back door, Terri said “Hello, I have someone here who wants to meet you.” A little Maltese dog leaped toward me, held back only by his leash, so exited to see me. Fredrick ran into my house. When I picked up little Fredrick for the first time, I held him in my arms, he licked me on my chin and looked into my eyes, “Hello, Daddy.” What a fantastic way to start a new beginning, as Fredrick and I wander through life together.

TJ

His dad was against it. But from an early age, Martin knew he had the
right skills to become a spy. He was patient. He was observant. He could
sit comfortably nearly anywhere for hours. He was almost the exact
description someone would use to describe nondescript. At 16 he was just
old enough to look a little young to be in a bar, but his first real
piece of spy gear – a fake ID – covered that. His first undercover
mission for himself: Sit in a bar till closing, order a rum-and-Coke,
don’t get caught. Four hours later, mission accomplished.

Norval Joe

“Hosmer. Wendell,” The two boys heard their mother call from across the forest meadow. “It’s time to go.” The twins grabbed their gunny sacks, threw them over their shoulders and raced through the ankle high grass of the open field. “What’cha got there, boys?” Their father asked with a wary smile and a raised eyebrow. “Wild lawn gnomes,” Wendell said as the boys tipped the stunned creatures from the bags. They rolled around in confusion and searched for their little red hats. “Not again,” Their dad laughed. “Well, take two or three of the biggest and throw the rest back.”

Planet Z

Clarissa.

She counts her thumbs.

One. Two.

She has two thumbs.

Clarissa smiles.

Before the pills, she would sometimes count none.

Or one. Or three.

Or thousands.

The pills. The marvelous, magical pills.

The doctors made her better with those marvelous pills.

Green ones.
Pink ones.
Blue ones.
Black ones.

So many pills, so many colors.

She lines them up on the table by color, little rows of pills.

She smiles and twiddles her thumbs.

Her two thumbs.

One. Two.

She laughs.

That’s when she sees a pill… slowly… move.

The pill moved.
On its own.

Another pill moves.
And another.

Soon, all the pills are moving, weaving patterns of color on the table.

She counts her thumbs.

One. Two.

Screaming, she jabs them deep into her eyes.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

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

The topic this week was “Nasal Spray”

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

---

Ellie

She listened to her rapid, pounding heartbeat, heard her rasping breath and excessive, excruciating coughing echoing out into the air, saw her weakened hands shake and shudder. She felt awful.

It was her fault. It was always her fault. She’d insisted that she was ill, to get the sick leave she’d wanted.

Jerry never found about Rick, and every morning her husband left for work none the wiser about what went on after he left.

Of course, this meant she had to pretend to be sick, and actually use the medicine Jerry got her.

And now she’d overdosed. Fucking nasal spray.

Rah

Chalon and Nick were the best of friends.

Matching inhalers. Matching bifocals. Matching list of allergies.

Now they were sick together.

“We couldn’t! The germs!”

“Quiet Nick.”

Chalon is always the brave one, Nick thought.

“It’s our only hope of survival.”

Both stared at the bottle of Flonase.

“I had to forget mine, didn’t I?” Nick sighed.

“I’ll go first.” Chalon picked up the bottle and dosed.

“Now you.”

Nick started to refuse but saw the determination in Chalon’s eyes. With solemn gaze, he dosed.

They huddled together for the last moments until their mothers called them in for supper.

Zackmann

nasal spray
I never like to hear you wheezing
l never like to see you this way
I never want you on me sneezing
I only want to hear you breathing clearly, have some nasal spray
nasal spray
nasal spray
Oh baby I know I know it can be addictive but try some nasal spray
sometimes we all reach for the medicine cabinet for colds like yours today
I am not saying prayer cant help you
but God gave us nasal spray.
Achoo Achoo
Achoo Achoo
I only want to stop your wheezing, please have some nasal spray

AM Earley

June frantically, blindly, searched her purse. One robber had a gun to her head. The other trained a gun on her husband. No one watched her hands. She pulled out her nasal spray, aimed for the robber’s face and gave him two eyefulls in one blast. She easily subdued him, and called 911, as her husband knocked the other robber to the ground.
After the police arrived and the paperwork handled, June apologized for insisting on taking the shortcut.
“It didn’t ruin our anniversary, June. It reminded me why I love you, Mrs Badass.”

Steven the Nuclear Man

The alien sneezed onto my faceplate and Karen gagged. I shrugged in my spacesuit. “They think it’s weird we move air to communicate.” My suit was already translating the booger’s message for us. “With this planet’s wind, you couldn’t hear someone talking. The mucous transmission of pheromones – ”

“I have a doctorate in xenobiology; don’t mansplain it to me.”

I realized I’d blown any chance of a date – and then I saw the nude human. “Garner’s gone all nature hippie.” Garner approached one of the aliens.

Karen gasped. “Oh crap. He’s got allergies.”

Garner sneezed on the alien.

Chris the Nuclear Kid

I could not smell anything. As I walk through the door I felt something ooze from my nose. I turned to face the bathroom mirror and saw a glob of green. It oozed even faster getting bigger, then fell off. But, it was big as a basketball!

It started to wiggle, so I backed away. Then, as the thing took form, it looked like a humanoid. It started to move towards me, but I grabbed the nasal spray and sprayed the thing. After a while there was nothing but a puddle of green. Thank goodness there had been a drain.

Tom

Professor Amyl nitrite had unearthed an ancient scroll in a tomb in Southern China. After much analyzation by his colleagues the document was authenticated as the work of Sun Tzu author of the Art of War. What made this scroll so astonishing was that the descriptions within were absence from any existing version of the Art of War. The title of the scroll was the Art of Sneezing. It described how a warrior may use nasal spray to disarm an adversary. A rare spice from ShoeYang caused a strong irritation in the nose, but greater in the eyes. Sot bad.

Danny

Damn, these allergies. I’ve tried corticosteroid, topical decongestant, antihistamine, and natural saline nasal sprays, as well as a combined use of all sprays. Even with a combined use of all nasal sprays, it feels like I’m on a rollercoaster, the topical decongestant causes obscene swelling and damages the delicate mucous membranes in the nose, the corticosteroids reverse that swelling but dries out my nose, which the natural nasal sprays relieves. I’m certain the nasal spray companies have conspired together to make products that each create problems the other products solve. Then I finally realized, just get rid of the dog.

TJ

You’ve gotten them mixed up again.
I did not. Spencer Tracy was a detective.
No he wasn’t.
He wasn’t?
No, you’re thinking of Dick Tracy.
Dick Tracy was an actor.
No, Dick Tracy was a comic book detective from the 1930s. Spencer Tracy
was an actor.
Maybe Spencer Tracy played Dick Tracy?
No, that was Warren Beatty.
Oh, I see. Spencer Tracy was in “Gone With the Wind.”
No, he was in “Inherit the Wind.” Warren Beatty was in “Dick
Tracy.”
PLEASE! This is a family podcast.
*snort
Pardon me, but I’ve got to clean diet Coke off of …everything.

Norval Joe

Gilbert slammed his textbook shut with a curse and swiped at his watering eyes with the back of his sleeve.
“These allergies are going to make me fail my English final,” he sniffed wetly and searched for a Kleenex.
Throwing the soggy tissue into the waste basket he stumbled into the bathroom and found his roommate’s bottle of nasal spray.
The first day they shared the room, Gilbert promised to never touch his friends medication.
“Experimental,” Gilbert scoffed. “If it works for Jerry, it’ll work for me.”
Along with the antibodies to hold zombiism in recession came Jerry’s infectious germs.

Planet Z

Ladies and Gentlemen!

Hard times have hit the big top. The circus is coming to ruin.

The elephant’s allergies are acting up, and we can’t afford nasal spray.

The ringmaster’s pawned his rings, so he wears those black gloves all the time so his love, the bearded lady, don’t notice it.

Try the cotton candy… taste funny, don’t it? They’re using a cotton-poly blend now.

And the trapeze act out of Lebanon, The Flying Mohammeds, somehow they got on the No Fly List. Damn this 911 bullshit.

The caliope’s missin a few notes, and the goddamned clown car’s run out of gas.

Everybody get out and push.

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

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

The topic this week was “Toast”

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.

---

Rah

“Female. 45 years old. Third degree burns on upper right arm.”

The skin was split, glossy.

Sizzling bacon. Popping fat.

Charred skin and yellow adipose tissue.

Burnt buttered toast.

Paul vomited.

Two years for an associate’s degree in nursing, working small jobs in off hours to pay the bills; his first assignment was burn ward.

“Another smoke break Paul?” the doctor asked. He chuckled and walked away.

Paul grunted and continued to watch traffic on the overpass. An unlit cigarette hung from his lips.

“Beats part-time at the Waffle House”, his roommate had commented this morning.

Yeah right, Paul thought.

Tom

Your toast Timmy.

I can explain Frankie.

Don’t think so, Big Louie

Isn’t pleased and when Louie

Is displeased dis isn’t good.

“Hows bout I just disappear.”

“Just what we zz had in mind”

Two pop Timmy hits the floor

Like Lewis in the 5th round.

Frankie folds Timmy’s arms

Cross this chest and places a lily in his hand.

Don’t he look peaceful mused Frankie

All Easter Sunday.

Two pop echo off the garage roof

Frankie tumbles into 47 Packard trunk

Little Rude tows a red blow on to Frankie’s chest.

Merry Chirstmas Frances.

From the shadows comes two pops.

AM Earley

“A toast to the newlywed couple.”

“A toast to our hockey team going to the playoffs.”

“No toast to our basketball team who lost the playoffs.”

“A moment of silence for all the victims of the tornados.”

The foursome didn’t say anything, but the room wasn’t silent. Twenty televisions still blasted away in the sports bar.

Ten minutes into their meal, all the televisions went out. Groans and yells persisted into the bar until the owner emerged from the back. “I can’t get anything on the computer to work. It’s all toast.”

“A toast to technology. It’s great, only when it works.”

Danny

Jack sat in his favorite chair in front of the fire, toasting his feet on a cold snowy evening at his remote cabin in the northwestern mountains. Satisfied with the results of his previous hunts, the meat was preserved and safely stored in his outdoor freezer. With supply cabinets full, and wild nuts picked earlier toasting by the fire, Jack was ready to settle in for the long winter ahead. With the wind howling outside, Jack knew that anyone caught in this storm would quickly be toast. He prayed for their safe passage, then fell asleep as the night closed in.

Zackmann

We need to fight the bad press Atkins gave the baked goods industry. My plan is to start
something called ToastCon. We will get people to come together and celebrate bread. When
people are in lines waiting to register we will bring them a breakfast of Toast with choice of
butter, honey, jam, or jelly. We will have women dressed as bread slices. Pan Panels about
baking, building your own toaster, bread in popular culture, and impact of bread on society.
Music by Throwing Toasters. The bread company CEO then interrupted saying “Wheat a minute
sir, will this really work?”

TJ Aman

When I see Dave and Rebecca here today I can’t help but cast my mind
back to where these crazy kids were just one year ago. Rebecca was just
a shy, wide-eyed kid at the checkout counter open to new life and new
possibilities. Who could’ve known that fateful day, she could be
ringing up the groceries of the man she would be spending the rest of
her life with? Certainly not Dave, who as it happens was sleeping with
me at the time, so welcome to marital bliss, Becky, and make sure your
shots are up to date. L’chaim.

Norval Joe

“Hey buddy,” Carl shouted; loud enough to be heard over the noisy crowd. “Can I get another stack of toast over here?”
“Hold your horses, pal,” the lead chef growled back, “we got a lot of people calling for the same thing. You’ll just have to wait your turn.”
It was true. Several cooks rushed about and handed out toast as quick as they could pull it from the dozen toasters lined up on the work bench.
“Whatever,” Carl said. “I only have half this roof shingled. If it rains before I get done, your the ones who’ll be sorry.”

Planet Z

Curiosity killed the cat, and nearly everybody else with it.

You see, I grew up hearing that the buttered side of the toast always lands face down.

And cats always land on their feet.

So, I taped some buttered toast to the back of a cat and dropped it.

What a fool I was.

The barrier between our world and dreams came down, torn apart by the quantum storms. Shadows reached out from the darkness, the walls

Millions… billions of lives lost because I just had to mess around with elemental forces.

Not that there’s much left, but I will never play with my food ever again.