Category: Weekly Challenge

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Twenty, 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… was…. um…
It’s Mensa!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Steven the Nuclear Man
	Zackmann
	Guy David
	Cristina
	Almo
	TJ
	Pods And Ends
	Norval Joe
	Justin
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Steven the Nuclear Man

“Jonathan, you can’t talk about UFOs if you want to get into Mensa.”
Abigail ignored his tight knuckles gripping the steering wheel.
“You’re a smart guy, but they won’t get it.”
“You bet they won’t get it,” he snorted. “Smartest people in the
world and they’re UFO deniers.” He swerved into the library parking
lot. “We’re finally here.”
“Look,” Abigail said, “I’ll take you to a nice restaurant for our next date.”
As the humans walked inside, Bleargh looked up from the monitor to
Zooptif. “A brain buffet!” it said, “What a romantic date!”
The saucer landed on the roof.

Zackmann

That friend of yours, David, seems stupid and crazy. He told me that He took a class with Professor Turtledove where he learned about how the South won the US Civil War. Actually that was a joke. David is a member of Mensa but some times he gets a little weird if exposed to bad media. I think he saw the live action movie of The Last Air Bender. He should be Okay in a couple of days. He was off for about two weeks when I loaned him my copy of Moon People. Keep him away from daytime television.

Guy David

Being different was always a curse. People used to stare at me blankly when I talked and it would take me a while to register they didn’t understand a word of what I said. Through the years I learned to talk down a few levels, but it made me feel lonely, alien. That’s why my first Mensa meeting was such a life changing experience. Suddenly I was among people just like me, and I didn’t have to talk down anymore. I could talk at my own level and it was liberating. I’m not feeling cursed anymore. I almost feel blessed.

Cristina

Where do Goblins come from? They love gold is all we know.
What do they eat? Gold, I dare say, but that doesn’t seem very healthy.
Deep in the tunnels they dig, I question how dark they can be
In their burrows with such little sun!
Short and stocky these creatures are.
A mystery all the way up to their bushy eyebrows.
The myths we tell, they forge weapons for fun,
Weapons for fun! Such dangerous beings they are!
But all I know is that they love gold and their holds
That as the truth as far as I know.

Almo

The general entered the room stiffly, placed the folder on the table, addressed the small group. “We just don’t know how to stop this thing that’s coming,” he said. “We need your help, desperately.”
An eager hand shot up. “We could do a musical!” the man said. “That would relax people.” Another disagreed. “No, an operetta. That’s what we need.”
The general’s brow furrowed. “These are the dumbest suggestions I’ve heard. I thought this group was brilliant.”
“Oh,” said one of the women, suddenly understanding. “Mensa meets down the hall. This is the glee club.”

TJ

Hi! Welcome to the Sheboygan Falls Dew Drop Inn here in Sheboygan Falls,
Wisconsin! Sheboygan’s awfully fun to say, isn’t it? I’m Emma Jean
Wilkinson I’ll be your waitress this fine afternoon. Are you folks
here for the convention? There’s a Mensa convention, IQ’s in the top
2 percent smartest people in America. You seemed to have a spark of life
behind your eyes so I wondered if you were in town for that? Because
they’ve moved that. Yeah, see, they sent an advance team who … met
us. Moved the convention down to the Twin Cities. Try the pie!

Pods And Ends

The document was slowly falling to the ground. It landed noiselessly on the dirty tiled floor. Both of them bent down at the same time and their eyes locked. It was one of these moments where you look someone in the eye just an instant too long.
“Mary, back to work!” came the voice from behind the buffet in the mensa. The woman jumped up and joined her colleague. At the door, she looked back at the man. He looked around him in disgust. Raising an eyebrow at her, he shook his head sadly before he turned around and left.

Norval Joe

The local chapter of mensa was disappointed by the lack of membership.
After they determined there just weren’t enough really smart people in their community they had a heated debate about what would be the best way to raise their numbers.
Eventually they decided to use the same method used to test the IQ’s of hundreds of historical geniuses. They nearly doubled their ranks by adding members posthumously.
Their clever scheme came crashing down when National noticed. Some wise guy thought he would be funny and added names to the roster like; George Foreman, Forest Gump, and Popeye the Sailor-man.

Justin

Wumbi, of the Pokilulu tribe of cannibals was talking with Rimboo the elder about the proper way to cook a woman.
“Young Wumbi, you must remembeh, da more you know da woman, da more effort you must put into her pweparation. Eating someone is a vereh poisernall ting!”
“Do the spices and vegetables matter?”
“Naw, nat so moich. It’s more about what you do to da meat.”
“Who was the first woman you cooked?”
“Oh, soim missionary. Oui just caught her in a twap in da jungle. ”
“How did you prepare the meat, mince it?”
“Mensa, I hardly knew her!”

Planet Z

Richard’s car broke down in the middle of nowhere.
The GPS was wired into the car, the display as dead as the engine.
So was the integrated phone.
Damn. Card-carrying genius, doing something stupid.
But not as stupid as the lumbering hulk that came up to his car, a walking cliche: overalls, shotgun and straw hat.
“You got yerself car troubles?” drawled the hillbilly.
“Yeah,” said Richard. “You have a garage somewhere?”
The hillbilly frowned. “What, you think we ain’t got cars or somethin’?”
He raised the shotgun.
Richard sighed. He was a card-carrying NRA member.
(Without his gun. Stupid.)

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Nineteen, 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… was…. um…
It’s Goblin!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Nikita Cat
	Zachmann
	TJ
	Steven
	Guy
	Norval Joe
	Justin
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Nikita

I’m Sylvester, a Cat.
I live on the streets.
One sees, and experiences, a lot here.
Your mind can play tricks on you.
For instance, Saturday, passing near a Ballroom, I saw a white creature in some bushes.
Mother always warned us about Goblins, saying they were worse than Coyotes, though she never said what they looked like.
I warily watched the bushes, ready to run if need be.
There was no need.
It was a Rabbit, and as it dashed across the lawn it looked over its shoulder, in my direction, with a look of terror on its face.

Zackmann

Once a human fell in love with a goblin woman in a land where goblin woman were very beautiful and goblin guys were ugly a sin. She grew to like him. They spent much time together. One day the human guy somehow got this beautiful goblin gal pregnant. He decided to ask her parents for permission to marry her. She tried to tell him that goblin culture was different and she begged not ask nor go anywhere near her family but he wanted everything done properly. That night her family invited him to dinner with great pleasure. He was delicious.

TJ

Unemployment is only one aspect of the oft cited Misery Index. Inflation
is another. Some researchers stop there, but I believe my metric is more
accurate. It pulls in air and water pollution, hate speech, bad movies,
sick days, breakup songs and the quality of daytime television. Some
breakups are better for everyone and some sick days are actually
shopping days, so to balance it all out, my numbers adjust for goblins.
It’s simply a fact: The more goblins we have to deal with, the more
miserable we are. Especially when we overcharge for that sweater.
That’ll be $42.50, please.

Steven

“Whoever heard of a blue goblin?”
The three women stared at the lumpy figure. The darker-skinned one
kicked him. Not too hard, but he grunted anyway. A small arachnid
dancing on top of the goblin’s head started to smoke.
The palest woman flipped a small mirror between her fingers, flashing
glints of her dark hair. “It could be dangerous if there are more.”
The blond woman smiled down at the goblin. “I think he’s kind of
cute.” The other two stared at her. “Cute in a creepy way.”
As they walked down the tunnel, she glanced back. “But cute.”

Guy David

“The Golbins are coming.” I looked at the man with the unwashed hair and the seven day beard and was sorry I set next to him at the bar. I had to correct his mistake though. “Don’t you mean Goblins?” “No – those are completely different creatures. Goblins are little and green and they are are only after your money. Golbins are furry and cute looking until they go for your throat.” I gave up and went home. Later that day, when I went to bed a little furry creature attacked me and gave me a good bite at the neck.

Norval Joe

Gormfindle wrapped a boney-fingered hand around each of his long pointed ears and pulled them hard. They stretched enough to overlap across the top of his head. He twisted them around themselves unitl they lay across his hairless head like an absurd tiara.
Fardtweezer stretched his puffy green bottom lip down over his chin, exposing three rows of crooked, yellow teeth.
They looked at one another and giggled.
Their teacher turned in time to see the display, and barked, “that’s enough, boys.”
Diurnia, the dark elf they tried to empress, only rolled her eyes and muttered, “goblins are so stupid.

Justin

The goblins lowered the bucket down the wishing well to steal the coins.
“We’ll be rich!” said the one with the bulbous nose.
“Hush you, and keep a look out for the trees!”
In the forest where they were trying to rob the well, a group of walking trees kept guard.
The bucket hit the bottom, coins clinking.
“It’s not sinking into the coins, how are we supposed to scoop it?”
“Why didn’t you send someone down there to fill it up?”
The trees waved and the ground shook. The lookout pulled the other goblins away.
“Cheese it, the copse!”

Planet Z

Jacob Golbin had a goblin’s taste for gold.
Literally. At every party, he’d insist on kissing the hand of the hostess and her guests, his tongue darting across their rings.
He’d dance closely, nibbling earlobes to savor each earring.
He wasn’t kissing the back of Lady Montclair’s neck… he just wanted her necklace.
But rings were his favorite, I warned you, didn’t I?
Let him get a taste, but withdraw your hand before he bites.
Just keep the icepack on your hand and stop looking at your finger in the plastic bag. It’s fine.
The hospital’s right up the street.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eighteen, 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… was…. um…
It’s Rent!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Guy David
	Steven
	Zackmann
	TJ
	Norval Joe
	Justin
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Guy David

A rift opened and the little green men started pouring out. The message was played over and over again in every known language: “people of earth, your attention please. Your rent is overdue. You would be evacuated.” Gravity failed and people started drifting out into space, screaming. Some people tried to hang onto furniture and other odd objects but the little green men zapped them with ray guns until their grip failed. They demolished all the buildings and made sure every trace of humanity was erased forever. When it was all over, the quadropods moved in. They payed in advance.

Steven

Anton dropped the drained husk. “My first real kill,” he whispered.
The longing, a lonely emptiness he’d never really noticed had
vanished, filled with the pulsing warmth of blood.
Kelenthia slid behind him, raven hair brushing his ear. “You did
well, my fledgling,” she said. Her fangs sank into his neck. It was
not the willing surrender of the Change. She forced herself into him,
and took, and took, and took.
She left him lying there, the gnawing emptiness back in his gut.
“The extra, the passion, the pleasure belongs to me,” she’d said.
“Consider it rent on your afterlife.”

Zackmann

I was so glad when we bought our first house and didn’t have to pay rent and not so glad when we moved into our second house with a Home Owners Association. I suspect that Home Owners Associations were devised by Edwin Windsor of How to Succeed in Evil because in addition to paying two mortgages and property tax you also get to pay rent to have bitchy neibors and keep all houses the same color. Not that the Rent paid to HOA is all bad, it did pay to re-shingle the roof and maintain a small rarely use park.

TJ

Peals of laughter rang out from the back yard as Wubbles the Clown
chased the children around the bouncy castle and through the
shrubberies. According to the game they were playing, whoever had his
balloon was “it” and everyone would chase after him, and when
Wubbles had it, the kids chased him until he “tripped” and it was
all one big pile of kids and Wubbles and giggles and clown shoes. Until
the police showed up and tackled Wubbles and took him away, after the
real Wubbles the Clown escaped from the van and called in to the
Rent-a-Clown agency.

Norval Joe

Vastus Lateralis silently slid the two headed battle axe from its scabbard on his broad leather belt, his knuckles white, as he gripped the shaft angrily.
The dwarf stood nearly as tall as his shoulders were broad, taller with the rusted steel helm pressed down hard on his furrowed brow.
He jumped back suddenly as the silent hiss of a sword passed before him and rent his thick leather breastplate like silk.
“Ye’ll be stealing no more of me gems, elf,” he swore as he brought the heavy axe down between the pale green double glow of the thief’s eyes.

Justin

The beginning of the month is here; Time to pay the rent. I’ve been meditating to focus on stability and strengthening my inner self. This should help me keep my able to stay on task and not lose the jobs I need to do to pay the rent.
I walk the streets wearing my nicest suit. I find and invite a hobo for a meal and I take him home. I shove him down the basement stairs. He splashes at the bottom, screaming. I meditate. I can’t afford to have my sanity check bounce. I hate paying rent to Cthulhu.

Planet Z

“You don’t drink beer,” said my roommate. “You only rent it.”
He stumbled to the bathroom. The more he drank, the more piss on the floor for me to mop up later.
Bastard.
He was sloppy with his finances, too.
I just bought a timeshare on a keg of Guinness. Four Irishmen and I will make a bundle trading it up to double-malt whiskey.
Five years ago, I was investing in box wine fixer-uppers. Now, my wine rack’s full of every medal-winner from the past century.
If only I could get out of this dump and ditch the slob, right?

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Seventeen, 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… was…. um…
It’s There’s an elephant in the room!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Guy David
	Steven
	Zachmann
	TJ
	Justin
	Norval Joe
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Guy David

The landlord opened his mouth and closed it in a fish like fashion. A sound came out of his lip not unlike the merger of a washing machine and a tardis. Finely, he came back to his senses and said “The sign outside this apartment strictly states ‘no pets allowed.'” I smiled and said simply “this is not a pet.” “Oh yeh?” he retorted, now growing a little agitated “then what is it?” “Why – it’s an elephant” I stated. “And what do you need and elephant for?” he asked, angry and exasperated. “That’s easy” I said, “to hide the giraffe.”

Steven

“No,” Sandra said, as the small grey animal on the floor trumpeted.
She stalked past, through the kitchen toward their son’s room.
“You like elephants,” Andrew said. “Remember, that clown who made you
the balloon elephant?” He picked up the pachyderm. “This one’s about
the same size, honey.”
She called upstairs to their son. “James! Time to go to come home.”
“You could play with the elephant,” Andrew said. “Or James could,
while we talked.”
Their son careened down the stairs and took Sandra’s hand. They went
outside, slamming the door behind them.
Andrew petted the elephant. It trumpeted quietly.

Zackmann

I was wondering what gift to give my friend who seemed to have one of everything when I heard an ad for something I though my friend could never have owned. It was cool, original, and big. Really big. A life sized china pacaderm figurine. How was I to know he already had one since it took up almost his entire living room but no one ever mentioned it. Even after the second one I bought was delivered. I just thought it would go well with the life size eight hundred pound gorilla figurine his mother got him for Christmas.

TJ

Elegant conversations among the glitterati and cognoscenti delighted
birthday girl Meghan Sullivan no end as she turned 29 once again. But a
pall passed like a wave through the room and the tinkling champagne
flutes and laughter declined significantly as BP chairman Tony Hayward
arrived on the scene. Of course he was an old friend of the family and
naturally couldn’t be uninvited although Meghan felt this would be a
perfectly acceptable moment historically speaking had he feigned some
sort of illness. How awkward. No one expressed much sympathy when the
elephant in the room stepped on top of him.

The elf noted that for the plan to work they’d need more arrows. The dwarf pointed out that both a shield phalanx and extra spears would be required. The elf in mentioned that they would have to contend with swamps, bad weather, and gathering food on the mission, since it would be impractical to carry that much with them. The dwarf noted the spies, traitors, deserters and roustabouts to contend with. The elf finally mentioned that the real oliphaunt in the room was the seventeen different armies they’d have to defeat. The dwarf said that that only counted as one.

Justin

The elf noted that for the plan to work they’d need more arrows. The dwarf pointed out that both a shield phalanx and extra spears would be required. The elf in mentioned that they would have to contend with swamps, bad weather, and gathering food on the mission, since it would be impractical to carry that much with them. The dwarf noted the spies, traitors, deserters and roustabouts to contend with. The elf finally mentioned that the real oliphaunt in the room was the seventeen different armies they’d have to defeat. The dwarf said that that only counted as one.

Norval Joe

The animals sat around the large round table, the pressure of a dead line hung in the air like a foreboding black rain cloud.
“There’s an elephant in the room?” The bear asked.
“Too flat and generic. How is that going to brand our product?” the rabbit asked, his contempt as thick as honey.
“Th, th, th, that’s all folk?” the small pig stuttered.
“That’s trademarked, we’d get sued,” the owl said and shook his head.
“Heffelumps and woozels steal honey?” the bear suggested, after a long pause.
“Now you’re talking, Pooh, boy,” the tiger laughed, “who, who, who, who.”

Planet Z

I checked into the hotel, followed the bellhop down the hallway, and as he opened the door…
I saw an elephant in the room.
“This is going to be a problem,” I said, watching the elephant devour peanuts from the mini-fridge.
The bellhop looked at the elephant and sighed. “You wanted a room with an African elephant, not an Asian elephant?”
“Exactly. I prefer African elephants.”
He nodded, went back to the front desk, and returned with another room’s key.
“Right this way,” he said.
I’m still not happy, though.
They charged me for the peanuts. Eight dollars a packet!

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Sixteen, 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… was…. um…
It’s Good Lord, That’s Not Pie! and Motion!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Zachmann
	TJ
	Brad
	Steven
	Jeffrey
	Justin
	Norval Joe
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Zachmann

Kevin, a pure hearted and naive young man, went to an Inn that was famous for its great food. Although Kevin had not been told it was also famous for being a brothel. Kevin had received his food and when his waitress walked away he noticed she looked walked like art in motion. Kevin was pure of heart but still a man. The waitress asked Kevin if he wanted to join here in another room for desert which he thought an odd custom. She closed the door behind them. Soon you could hear Kevin say Good Lord, that’s not pie.
zackmann

TJ

Myrna, God bless her, has not held up well. A stroke at 70 and a second at 83 had no effect on her passion for baking but left her judgment seriously impaired. Her contributions to the church social had dipped from “ooh!” to “eww.” Her latest efforts … well, the pale top crust suggested to Sylvia that Myrna had forgotten to turn her oven on. But there was .. motion, and then one, then two waving antennae peeking through … “Good Lord,” Sylvia crossed herself. “That’s … not pie …” as Myrna burbled “Who wants to try my cricket pie?”

Brad

She was a grand ship, a three master and being a son of a son of a sailor I was ready for the adventure. I was up in the rigging as she went out into the bay. Is one of those moments I won’t forget. Fair skies and steady wind.
So, ummm what ye doin here?
Storm hit us outside the bay. Found out I have motion sickness.
Least ye is able to serve up some grub.
I guess. So did you save room for dessert?
Aye, give me the house special.
Here ya go.
Good Lord, that’s not pie.

Stephen

“I’m tired of only getting the scraps and leavings of your affection.”
She threw his dessert on the table hard enough for the saucer to
ring.
He looked up from his laptop, brow furrowed. “That’s not pie. What is that?”
“Leftovers,” she said. “It’s symbolic.”
“Feh.” He pushed the plate away, turning back to his computer.
She blurred into motion, knocking him and the laptop to the ground,
dinner’s steak knife dripping with A1 at his throat.
“You’ve been starving me of affection,” she said. The knife pressed
into his skin. “And I’m hungry.”
He didn’t feel the first bite.

Jeffrey

It was a rather grim scene but I knew there was nothing to it but to dive in.
“Alright, Bubbles what happened?”
“Binky’s hand was in motion before we could stop him, before we knew it, it was sailing though the air. Then everything slowed down, it was like slow motion. There was nothing we could do about it, but watch. It was not until it was half way there that we realized there had been a mistake. Good lord that’s not pie, I had screamed.”
She stared at the brick on the floor next to the deceased Mr. Beezo.

Justin

Doctor Despicable gazed into the cavern. He’d heard from a fellow villain there was a cache of pies inside. The swirling shadows were terrifying and he didn’t want to go in, but he had to have pie. All alone, Despicable entered.
Each step plunged him further into darkness, but smell alone led him to the pie. Finding it on a cart, he pushed it back into the light. He pulled off the sheet that covered it to reveal some detectives and and a dog, stained with cherry filling. He’d have eaten pie if it hadn’t been for those darn kids!

Norval Joe

With a unified motion, like Moses parting the red sea, he crowd separated, leaving a clear view of the judge.
A wave of his hand, he silenced the anxious audience.
He spoke, “By appearance, texture, and aroma, we have narrowed the field to just two pies. Each of the five judges will now sample them and vote.”
He smiled. “As a side note, the final tow contestants are twin sisters, heiresses to their family fortune.”
A single bite of the first pie and all five judges were dead.
The two women said as one, “Good Lord, that’s not my pie.”

Planet Z

When integrated with your AutoPantry and CyberFridge, the Magic In Motion Robotic Chef is the solution to all your culinary needs.
We highly recommend the Service Package so that everything you need is automatically ordered and delivered with our zero-emissions supply vehicle systems.
And by connecting to FoodNet, you’ll be able to participate in Neighborhood SocialDinners, broadcasting and receiving news of meals being prepared in the area by your friends. Invite yourself over, or open the door for others.
In the case of bar code misc-scans, laugh it up by submitting errors to Good Lord That’s Not Pie Dot Com.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Fifteen, 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… was…. um…
It’s The Message!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Zackmann
	Wilma
	Guy David
	Steven
	Orion
	TJ
	Justin
	Norval Joe
	Jeffrey
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Zackmann

Son, there is something important I have to tell you. Why do you have to guess? You have been told this before. No you are not adopted and your mother is not having a baby. No, your brother only dates girls. Yes, Jesus and your parents love you But what I am trying to say is tomorrow is trash day and you should bring the trash, recyclables, and yard waste cans to the end of the driveway before you go to bed. Oh, Did I mention receiving a letter telling me you might have a 20 year old sister.

I sat watching the news on The Feed wondering, why did my chain smoking grandfather go crazy and kill all those people? Was it the tobacco or whatever else was in his pipe? Is whatever mental condition that made him do that hereditary? I was still confused when I hit the play button on the telephone and heard my mother’s voice saying “You Know your grandfather quit smoking 30 years ago. You need to know your grandfather did not do that terrible thing. That was a very well made but evil steam powered robot” “RUN, it’s headed towards your house”

Wilma

My birthday. 40. Humph. Over the hill or the new 30? Only if you’re in Hollywood with a team of air brushers and body mechanics. Looking down at my favorite dessert, a baked Alaskan, I zone out letting my eyes slip out of focus. Words wave at me. The high meringue peaks form curvy script that reads “come home.” Images of stars whirring and a green ocean flash before my mind’s eye. Blinking, I shake my head and think a bullfighter at 40 is the new 50. Time for a desk job.

Guy David

The bottle washed upon the shore. As I picked it out with trembling hands, I could hear whispers from within. I hesitated for a moment, knowing what was bound to happen, then curiosity got the better of me and I unscrewed the cork. A happy genie burst from within and said: “I have a message for you from the Happy Genie Society. Your HGS membership has expired. Your terms are the regular ones. Once you serve your sentence, you would be free again for another term respectively.” As I screamed, my body contracted and I was squeezed into the bottle.

Steven

Roberto watched the man – the uniform’s nametag read “Jones” – on the
screen. Despite the vast bulk of the generation ship in the shuttle
windows, he could not look away from the flickering pixels from what
remained of Earth.
“China’s shortwave disappeared just after you launched,” Jones said.
“Nothing from the EU, nothing from undersea.” Jones laughed a little,
wiped his forehead. “And nothing from the rest of Canaveral, either.”
The corners of Jones’ face drooped. “I think I’m it.”
Jones took a deep breath. “Well, good luck.” As Jones reached for the
controls, a grey-blue hand grasped his shoulder.

Orion

Wayne sighed to himself as he placed item after item into the empty printer paper box. Anyone watching wouldn’t have been able to tell if it was of relief or disappointment. Not that anyone was watching. All heads were turned away.
Was it out of some perverse respect? Was this a private moment for Wayne and the other hundred or so doing the same?
Wayne looked at the box and wondered whether or not there was a lot for 20 years. All that he left behind was a single slip of paper.
It was, ironically enough, pink.

TJ

From under his beach umbrella, Marcus caught a glint of sunlight on
glass.
“Littering!” he grumbled, and rose to investigate.
It was an old bottle, stopped with seaweed, and there was a message
inside.
He unfolded it and read “Help! The ship’s engines blew up! I’m
trapped on an island! I don’t know where I am. If you find this, call
my son, Marcus.”
And then … his number.
Mom? She’d … gone missing years ago. He’d waited, then had her
declared legally dead.
He’d used part of the insurance settlement for a vacation to the
beach.
Mom … ?

Justin

Deepin Pwan laid in bed an pondered his parent’s latest concerns; The chancellor’s recent actions surely meant trouble for the Republic. Despite always having traveled the galaxy, he nervously awaited tomorrow’s embarking upon an adventure of his own into the galaxy, with his new ship, the Jester’s Flare, and a childhood friend Arlo Tirkalou as a pilot. The adventure will be one of profit and intrigue; buying goods and gathering information, selling them both. He’d miss Mon Calamari, but he suspected he’d not be home anytime soon. He had a bad feeling about what was going on in the galaxy.

Norval Joe

I was sittin on the back porch in a plastic patio chair eatin chili cheeze pork rinds and listening to the game on my transistor radio and the pork rind packet was making all those crinkley, crackly sounds and next thing you know, out from my radio, came those same sounds, and I said, “Ethyl, listen to that. I’m communicating with space aliens.” And she said, “Bobby, don’t be stupid. That’s just cosmic microwave background noise. If it is Aliens, what’s their message?” I told her, “They want pork rinds, and Dr. Pepper.” Ethyl said, “Bobby. You’re full of crap.”

Jeffrey

“Hey, Roger?”
“Yes, Bob.”
“Would you take a look at this for me?”
“Sure Rog, what have you got?
“Well this message just appeared on the screen, but I can’t believe its right but…”
“Woah I’v never seen that one.”
“Me either that is what is so strange, so what do you think I should do?”
“Well do what it says I guess, it has never steered us wrong before.”
As the lights went out all over the ship, and the environmental systems when off line, he wondered if he really should have hit to control alt delete to reboot.

Planet Z

Sometimes, the message is lost in the medium.
Take, for example, Jiggs Casey, just an ordinary petty thief facing his third strike for burglary.
His lawyer said that he was facing serious jail time now, and his bail was set high enough to convince his gang to try to break him out.
When they smuggled in the cupcake for him, Jiggs tore into it looking for a file to hack his way through the bars.
Never mind that the holding facility was using some fancy newfangled keypad locks, and the master code had been written in frosting on the cupcake.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Fourteen, 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… was…. um…
It’s Rebirth!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Steven the Nuclear Man
	Zachmann
	Guy David
	Jeffrey
	TJ
	Terry
	Justin
	Norval Joe
	Anima
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Steven

The water closes over my head.
As always, it is shockingly cold, flooding through the thin white
robes. The minister – or is he a preacher? Pastor? – almost lets go.
It’s symbolism, I think. Or maybe his hands are cold.
I am at the bottom of the pool. Please, I think, please stay down this time.
His hands pull me up, up, and I breach the water. The congregation
claps. I clear the water from my eyes.
“Didn’t take, Padre,” I say, and snap his neck.
As I slaughter the sheep – his “flock” – I wonder if I should try
Buddhism next.

Zackmann

Life feels so new to me now. I am just like I was at twenty, only not thinking with my hydraulic compass that got me into so much trouble, No longer sick, I bet I can run a mile in under twelve minutes, I have all my memories or a least as well as I remembered before.
Now waiting for the judge to tell us if it is legal for old me to kill himself or does he have to wait on the terminal cancer. I did not think things would be easy after transferring my mind into my clone.

Guy David

As the city has fallen, so it was rebuilt. The war was a bloody one and there was no winner. What remained of the two armies became one. They all worked together, choosing the island and building up the power around it. The island ascended above the ocean and the greatest, biggest city was built above it, complete with motion generators, a protective dome and weather controllers. That was how two proud nations ceased to be, and a whole new nation was born, vowing never to repeat the mistakes of the past. A generation change later, they forgot their vows.

Jeffrey Hite

“General we need to talk about this process. Its not going as smoothly as you’ve been told.”
The lights hurt his eyes and they buzzed making his head hurt. Who was this little man that was pestering him? He still felt weak. Did the process fail?
“General, can you hear me?” He nodded. “We don’t have much time General, we need to.” the little man uttered a choked cry. He marveled at the thing around the little man’s neck it used to be his hand before the process, weakness and frailty had been replaced by raw power, he was reborn.

TJ

The Lynyrd Skynyrd 2.0 concert was an experience to say the least.
Autotune covers of Southern rock classics in synthelectronica from guys
in what could best be described as flannel hazmat suits who were
fiddling with knobs and wires as much as playing instruments. Who came
to see these shows? Teens swathed in black who could only guess how
irritating the original band and its fans would find them, waving
cellphones to Robot Van Zant singing “Gimme Three Steps.” But what
shoved the whole concert from ironical to meta was the kid in the front
row hollerin’ “Rebirth!” “Rebirth!” “Rebiiiiiiirth!”

Terrence

I cannot take it any more. How could the podcaster continue on with story after agonizing story for five years? It is a drastic move, but it is the only one I have left. My only hope is that in the next life he will be done. The blood drips down my arms and the world goes black.
I open my eyes and I feel a large hand rubbing my back. I feel warm and happy wrapped in my fur. I purr as the man lifts me up onto his lap. I look up in horror, as the music starts.

Justin

The alien ship arrived, overriding every communication signal Earth had. Despite having cosmic technology, they only managed an audio transmission. It came out as a host of clicks, hums, buzzes and groaning. In exactly two days, sixteen hours, nineteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, the ship roasted Arizona with an energy blast. Seventeen minutes later linguists translated the message to find out they wanted 93 tons of Famous Amos cookies, or they’d destroy Kentucky. After the attack, a transmission was made that forty-three hours later was translated as “Oops, wrong state.” Phoenix, however, quickly rose from the ashes to rebuild.

Norval Joe

Billions of years ago, it was a fast burning ball of Hydrogen and Helium. A billions years later it was a super nova that scattered bits of it’s self across the galaxy. He was joined by his brother and sister stars. All born at the same time, in the star forming regions of the early universe. All lived short explosive lives, and mixed their shattered elements with his. Gravity and the conservation of angular motion worked together to take the swirling expanse of gas and dust and condense it into a new star and a single gas giant. Planet Z.

Anima

(stage note: half crazed slowly awakened vox)
The chemicals filter in and ever so slowly I become aware. Who shall I be when I get to Alpha Centuri? None know me here: no one knows the failure I was, no one knows all the horrible things I did. All of that is light years behind me now. I get a chance to start over, even if it is as a star-pioneer. I AM better than my past. With all the neurological retraining I received in transit, I WILL be able to ignore the evil voices in my head.
(stage note: mechanical ship vox)
Mr Goetz, re-berth to Gamma -87.

Planet Z

The Pregnancy Simulator was caught in a loop
No matter what the technician tried, the patient in the holosuite popped out baby after baby.
Even though they were just force-fields and projected light, the screaming babies touched a nerve in the instructors and students.
Not to mention the patient, enduring two hours of absolute torture.
(Or so it seemed.)
“They’re not real,” said the technician, pulling the plug.
The screaming and crying from the holosuite ended abruptly.
“See?”
One student shouted “YOU KILLED THEM ALL!” and tried to attack the technician.
He was sent to the psychiatric simulator for treatment.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Thirteen, 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… was…. um…
It’s Flying Island and World Builders!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Steven
	Brand
	Jeffrey
	Terrence
	Zackmann
	Norval Joe
	TJ
	Anima
	Justin
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Steven

As a child I read illustrated books about asteroid starships. I
dreamed of living in generation ships – islands of humanity in the
void. And now I do.
A cylinder is our artificial sun. Fields of grains feed us and
replenish our oxygen. The asteroid’s spin provides gravity. Imagine
a multiracial Rockwell painting in space. We’ll make a new world like
in the books.
The books left out the undead horde writhing over the planet we left
behind. The other ships have already succumbed, signals vanishing
after a few transmitted screams.
Our ship is uninfected.
But oh God, am I hungry.

Brand

Justin crouched on the edge of the cliff, hugging his knees and
wishing for wind. The warm, quiet nothing made his skin tingle with
unfulfilled expectation. He kicked a rock off the cliff, watching it
spin and fall into the dark nothing.
A passing light caught the rock as it fell. It spun around the light,
thick moss growing on the rock. Justin stood quickly, “No. Wait! I
didn’t want that!” But it was too late. The rock was soon covered in
moss, then people, buildings, doubt, rage, then it blew up with a pop.
Justin sat back down and sighed.

Jeffrey

There’s something to be said for being completely merciless, I’m usually the one to say it, it’s part of my job. I takes old worlds and crushes ’em up so they can go to the world builders to be made new again. I don’t look at who is living in them, ’cause I might start wondering if I’m doing the right thing. Had a young bloke here once that did, he saw one world with flying islands and all. When I smashed ’em, it drove him bonkers. Me I just smash ’em up, and let someone sort it all out.

Terrence

“On screen,” the Captain commanded, “now!” The screen flicked and the image of a large lumpy disk appeared on the screen on a back drop of stars.
“It looks like a flying island.” The helms man said shock in his voice.
“Yes, it does.” The Captain ran his fingers through his short beard. “After all these years of searching I have found it.” He stood and turned to his small three person crew. “This flying island as you call it, is the most important thing in the universe. Some call it the hand of god, it is the world builder.”

Zackmann

Welcome to the show. Please tell the audience your name?
Slartibartfast
Could you tell us about any of your accomplishments?
Fjords, I designed your Norway as you may Know.
Your current project is?
Another planet, my task is a flying island with fjords.
What made you decide to became a world builder?
I hesitate to call myself a world builder because I work for a big company that builds worlds. I would if I built them all by myself.
Sometimes I have to take time off to save the universe but I really rather be making fjords.
Thank You, Slartibartfast

Norval Joe

The audio chimed on sales representative 486’s termianl. She accepted the call and a small holograph of a man appeared above the data processor in front of her. “Thank you for calling World Builders, how may I help you?”
“I need a place to get away. Something that’s out of the way and not very noticable, but not to hard to get to, and not cold?”
“Then, you’d need something in the virtual worlds.”
He laughed, “Would I be building castles in the air if I said, ‘real world?'”
“Forget castles,” she said dryly, “you’d need a whole flying island.”

TJ

Jack and John face off in the cave with all the names. Desmond is bound
and gagged, as per John’s demand. “Is that really necessary?” Jack asked
as John gagged him, but John only shrugged “Your rules.”
Jack placed a white stone on the tray and both he and John waited for
the Golden Balance to level off. John began his transformation into a
Smoke Monster. Jack waved his hand, said “Mustn’t,” and John was
trapped. Jack whipped off Desmond’s gag. “New rule,” Jack said. Desmond
said “Fly!” The island rose into the sky and vanished, along with its
weirdness.

Anima

Napoleon looked peeved; dinner had been lacking. The fish had been cold, the salad warm, and dessert was some globby custard thing. His dabbling in empire and world building was getting the best of him.
“Napoleon, can we talk for once?”
“Josephine, really? I have a lot on my mind. Italy and Austria have shaped up nicely, but Lord Nelson is really nagging me, and I have half a mid to teach those Prussians a lesson.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you, but you only have time for war. I’ve met someone…”
And that’s when the floating island began to fly.

Justin

Captain Joshua activated the inversity fields on the lead tanks. His flying island, Lodestone, ascended above the two leaders. Igniting the magnesium boosters pushed Lodestone forwards over the islands. He hoped the inversity field generator held, otherwise he’d fall too soon and have to break, or risk collision. Lodestone rocked. The leftmost islands had fired weapons, breaching the rules! The generator stuttered. Lodestone descended. Steering left, Joshua released half the iron tanks, smashing the offending island. It sank. Lodestone came into place beside the remaining island. The other captain gave Joshua an OK sign, then the duel to win began.

Planet Z

At first, I thought the business card said “Word Builder Training.”
“It’s World Builder,” said the man in the grey suit. “We build worlds.”
“Seriously?” I asked. “How does one build worlds?”
“Close your eyes,” he said. “And imagine.”
So, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine. Flying islands, majestic rainbows, soft golden clouds.
“Are you imagining a world?” asked the stranger.
“Yes,” I said.
“Now open your eyes.”
I opened my eyes and saw… the café again.
“You’re not a world builder, so you came back.”
“Then make me one.” I signed the check and handed it over.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Twelve, 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… was…. um…
It’s Flagrant Disregard and Historical Inaccuracy!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Jeffrey
	Zachmann
	Terry
	Norval Joe
	TJ
	Justin
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Jeffrey

“Mr. Finster. We have to talk.”
“Ok What about?”
“Well, we’re going to have to let you go.”
“What? But why? No, you can’t let me go, you need me. I am your best writer.”
“Well there have been some questions raised about your most recent work, about some historical inaccuracies.”
“But, no one writes histories like I do.”
“That is the problem Mr. Finster, no one writes them like that. You seem to have a flagrant disregard for facts. For example, when writing a fourth-grade text book you can’t call Columbus’ boats the Nina, the Kimberly and the Merciless.”

Zachmann

I was at Barnes and Nobel ordering a copy of Moon People by Dale M courtney and saw an educational audio book my teens would like. Upon listing we found it historically inaccurate and had a flagrant disregard for facts much like cable television news. The audio maps did not help me one bit. I mentioned those facts to teens who said you Know this is primarily for entertainment? Right? Considering the source, yes. The CD is Our Dumb World: The Onion’s Atlas of the Planet Earth 73 Edition. I wondered if I should have bought the 72nd Edition first.

Terry

“Have you actually read this; it is appalling?” The President dropped the book on to the desk.
“I am sorry sir; I didn’t know.” The advisor reached for the book but the President slammed his hand down on it.
“Civilian deaths, theft, rape, war crimes of all kinds.” He shook his head. “How could we allow such a thing to happen?” The President lowered himself into his chair. He paused for a moment and read the page the book had opened to. “We should have stopped it.”
“Yes sir, sorry sir.”
“This author has a flagrant disregard for historical inaccuracy.”

Norval Joe

Commander Lorantelle leaned back in a chair, stretched out his legs and smiled. He hadn’t gotten nearly as much information from the girl as he expected he would. However, this boy, Derrick, seemed to know just how to flip her switches.
“We have a flagrant disregard for individual rights and freedoms?” she asked the slender dark haired boy. Incredulity rang in her words as she continued, “It’s your people, not mine, that have perpetuated historical inaccuracies to bolster your tenuous house of cards.”
Derrick winked, “Join us, Amy. You can change us. That’s why you’re here, and you know it.”

Justin

“Who is that ruffian making a racket?”
Abe turned from the actors on the stage who were performing ‘Our American Cousin.’
He saw a man loudly sending a telegraph from his seat, the clicking and clacking drowning out the voices from the stage.
“I say, man, turn off your telegraph and watch the play!”
The man scowled.
“Screw you, high hat!”
Indignantly, Abe drew a gun and fired, but the bullet hit a pillar right by the man’s head.
The man returned fire, striking Abe in the head.
The crowd surged to capture the man, but he managed to escape.

TJ

Thomas Jefferson was born in 5185. Not the Thomas Jefferson. He was born Mark Marbury, He wasn’t the Thomas Jefferson until he’d installed Jeffmod into the 40Tb iTex fused to his cerebral cortex and set timelog for 1765, in fact creating the time anomaly that killed the Founder and his sister.
The right age and look, Marbury was able to step into his life easily, blaming “the grief” at “losing his sister” for most faux pas. The time machine itself was disguised as the dome at Monticello, the design that inspired young Marbury to start building it — 3,415 years later.

PLANET Z

My profile says that I have a flagrant disregard for policy and procedure.
I don’t care. When a job needs to get done, I get it done.
The policy says that when we come across burial grounds, we stop all excavation and demolition so that archivists can examine and catalog the remains.
That delay isn’t covered by my contract, so when I miss the deadline because this undocumented cemetery gets in the way of a freeway or an apartment complex, it kills my performance bonus.
So, doc, you’ve got a choice: sweep these corpses under the rug, or join them.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eleven, 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… was…. um…
It’s Bill!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Jeffrey
	Steven
	Guy David
	Zachmann
	Justin
	Norval Joe
	Stewart
	TJ
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Jeffrey

When the bill came it was astounding. To be sure I expected it to be high, after all we had a full seven course meal, that included lobster in three of the courses. The problem was how high.
“Sir, is there a problem with your bill?”
the waiter had formed the words as a question but you could tell what he was thinking. He had a right, I had been staring at it for almost an hour now, but it was the gun he was holding that caught my attention.
“Now will you be paying with cash or with blood?”

Steven

The aliens look like cartoon ducks, but I think they’re kind of sexy.
Besides, they like poetry. Which is how I, a grad student, ended up
interviewing one of them.
I called him by hyperwave. His name was a musical throat-swallowing
gargle of a sound. He said “Call me Bill.” We talked until the late
hours of the morning. And every day for a month.
I owe the hyperwave company more than my student loans. I got a huge
bill for talking to an alien named Bill, who has a bill.
He thought it was poetic.
I changed majors.

Guy

I sit in darkness. I keep the refrigerator door open, try to cool up the room, but to no avail. The ice melted long ago and no cool air is sipping out. There’s no food at the refrigerator. Haven’t been there in a long time. They’ve cut down the gas, then they switched off the electricity. Couldn’t afford the food anyway, pay for electricity, gas, or water. I hear them coming up the stairs, the guys from the execution office. They are here for the furniture. I light up a match, watch the fire dance, then let it consume me.

Zakmann

I found out I can pay many of my bills with a credit card and earn points. Too bad I can’t pay the mortgage with credit card, I could earn at least one book every month. Now all I have to figure out is how to pay the credit cards. I am glad my kids understand that I have to have money to pay everything we buy even if I use credit. Of course they still ask questions like “If prince William has a gaming system, is that a royal Wii?” and of course they ask “May I have Money?”

Justin

Heather scrolled through the list. They all matched the parameters she selected in the search options, but there were many other factors to be examined before choosing one.
Some were too tall or too wide. One had the right size, but obviously slow in processing speed. Another looked beautiful, just geared for work only. Eventually she found one just a bit taller than herself and he wanted kids. His name was William. She filled out the forms and sent the money to the mail order husbands site. She needed time to prepare, so she checked the ‘Bill me later’ option.

Norval Joe

“Bill?” He heard a womans voice. “Bill, is that you?”
Winston Carlson looked up from the cafe’s small round table.
He recognized the attractive woman who stood nearby. She rested one hand on her hip, with the other waved an accusatory finger.
“You’re not going to the reunion. Instead, your’re going to hide and watch everyone who goes into the restaurant,” she said and limped to his table.
“Look, Aileen, I don’t have freinds in there. And my names not Bill. The kids liked to make fun of my big upper lip.”
“I know,” she said, “my name is Marie.”

Stewart

Dear Bill, here is the bill for the bill replacement on your favorite
baseball cap. Next time please do not bill the other players before
playing as I’ve severed many bills from players’ caps just today. It
has become quite an issue. Also of note, my name, as you surely know,
is not Bill or Billy or Mac or Buddy, it is William. I would
appreciate it if you could call me by my given name. My parents spent
a long time deciding on it and it is very important to me. Sincerely,
William Williamson The Duckbill Platypus Sports Club

TJ

His new No.2 pencils rattled in their new red plastic box, complete with
sharpener and a compartment to catch the shavings. His new red jacket
kept out the September chill. A pair of sophomores walked past him,
laughing, and he quickly unbuttoned the top button on his shirt to match
theirs. A bell rang, and a pretty blonde girl smiled at him. “Hi!
I’m Christine,” she said. “You look lost. What’s your name?”
“Bill.” he said, smiling back. Bill sounded more grown up than
Billy. New year, new grown-up name. “I am kinda lost,” he said.
“Walk me to class?”

Forsooth, I’ve read your Dane’s yarn through and you’ve cobbled up
a pageantry of folly. This whole scene is witticisms and folderol. Why
not simply call the thing “Polonius”? And this bit, where he’s
contemplating suicide, shouldn’t that be tucked in with Claudius, or
Ophelia? Odds bodkins, she actually commits suicide. Or Polonius could
manage it with scarce another breath. It makes no sense! Here Hamlet’s
breathing fiery vengeance against his uncle and stepfather, but next
appears contemplating death by his own hand? If we’re looking for
madness mayhaps we ought first inquire with the playwright. What sayest
thou, Bill?

The avalanche moved three tons of ice and snow, and left Washington skier
Janet Winsome pinned beneath a fallen tree, stranding her helpless for
fully two days. She was unconscious when the rescue helicopters finally
spotted her, and it was another five hours to work out the logistics to
get at her and then to move her safely. Her face was pale and
frostbitten, and there was no saving her leg. But her sense of humor was
fine. On seeing the bill, she said, “Well … you’d best knock me
out again if you’re gonna get my arm as well.”

Planet Z

“Put it on my bill!” cackles Grampa.
Every time I saw him, he told the same old corny joke.
I’m supposed to laugh. So, I try.
Grampa punches me in the shoulder. “Good one, huh?”
“Yeah, Grampa,” I say. “Good one.”
Now, I’ve got grandkids, and I tried to tell them the same joke.
“Why doesn’t the duck tell them to put it on his credit card?” says Janey.
“Or use his Paypal?” says Bobby.
Kids these days don’t understand a good joke.
I tried to get them to pull my finger.
And I shit my pants.
Damn you, Grampa.