Category: Weekly Challenge

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Ten, 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 Easy, Router, Water Under The Bridge, You Broke My Vase, Something Simple!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Lewis
	Zachmann
	Guy David
	Steven
	TJ
	Anima
	Justin
	Norval Joe
	Arri
	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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Lewis

“You broke my vase!”
Bob the giant looked down at the screaming little person.
“Why can’t you do something so simple and easy?”
Bob scratched his head. Bob was not bright, but the folks tried to think of odd jobs he could do to make him feel like a part of the community.
The little person started to scream to himself.
“Water under the bridge,” she told me. “He did not mean it,” “it is not his fault.”
Bob pointed at a small pile of crushed electronics and the little person looked.
“What is that?” he asked.
Bob grinned.
“Router!”

Zachmann

I thought getting a wireless router for our board and care would be something simple. First I linked though the website to order router. After three weeks called cable company, who said they didn’t understand why it was not sent and reordered it. Two days later the caregiver called and told me the box had come then the online order not coming was water under the bridge. I arrived with my laptop expecting self installation to be easy. I put installation disk in laptop. Soon I called tech support. Since I’m twelve o’clock flasher hours later there was wireless internet.

Where ever I work, every night the regular staff always tell me ghost stories right before they leave me alone for the rest of the night. One place I worked, I always heard this weird eerie sound every day about three in the morning but soon found it to be the sound of the BART trains returning to station.
One night I heard a voice “I’ll kick your ass, you broke my vase. I’ll kick your ass, you broke my vase.” I shouted “Get off me case, I never touched your vase”. Later, I found a parrot forgotten by owner.

Guy David

They met under the bridge, at the place where the waters run. The meeting was easy to arrange. They used to send out couriers on horses with notes etched in the blood of virgin maidens, but those days all they needed was a modem, a router and an internet connection. Usually, they summoned the spirits through elaborate rituals conducted by the blue mages of Ingens Papilla, but this time it was something much simpler. All they needed to summon was one genie. The leader rubbed the lamp silently and the smoke started rising. “You broke my vase” said the genie.

Steven

Sanson knew it was wrong when he woke to snow on his eyelashes. His memories downloaded across the clone’s brain, restless after being stored in the ship’s routers during the interstellar flight.
Sanson followed sounds of hammering and laughing to the bridge, dodging snowdrifts along the way. The galaxy, stretched by hyperspace dilation, rippled like water beneath the transparent floor of the bridge. A bearded figure sat in the captain’s chair, supervising small aliens making strange toys.
“Have a seat,” it told Sanson with a laugh. “we have to speed up to make it to every house in one night!”

TJ

And it’s Easy, now, coming up close on the outside but can she catch Router no! Router pulls ahead leaving Water Under the Bridge neck and neck to place with You Broke My Vase, You Broke My Vase edging up on Router now ahead of Water Under the Bridge by a nose but what’s this? Something Simple, Something Simple an odds on favorite to lose now overtaking Easy, now passing Water Under the Bridge, passing You Broke My Vase, now coming up on Router, it’s neck and neck, Router and Something Simple, it’s neck and neck and Something Simple WINS!

Anima

It’s nuts how something simple like you breaking my vase years ago still makes me crazy. It ought to be water under the bridge, but it isn’t easy for me to forget that day. It wasn’t that it was a Ming, and it was nice that you vacuumed and cleaned up the mess: It’s that IT WAS MY MAMA! You were hooking up the router; I concede the vase was on the corner of the buffet. You still have the Xbox, but I have nothing. What am I supposed to do for Mother’s Day? Put pink tulips on your joystick?

Justin

“B twelve.”
“You sunk my battlevase!”
“I bet you’ll never want to play me at Battlepottery again. I beat you easy!”
“I don’t keep a grudge, water under the bridge.”
“Did you get your router fixed?”
“Yeah, was a simple fix.”
“Do you ever feel like you are just speaking some, I don’t know, something like scripted dialogue?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like everything we say is based on some random topics of some sick deity.”
“Not sick, he’s brilliant!”
“What? How do you know it’s a he, and if he’s brilliant or not?”
“Weird, where did that come from?”

Norval Joe

She blinked her eyes and turned away to hide the absense of tears. Her back to him she sniffed loudly and said, “sure it’s all water under the bridge, but you broke my vase, I mean, my heart, when you left with that woman.”
The blood drained from his face. He admitted, “She said she was here to change the router, that it was something simple, then she insisted I take her for a drink. It wasn’t easy to deny her”
As he left the room, head bowed, she quickly checked the vase to insure the microfilm was still there.

Arri

“Crap, now how do we target? When you broke my router’s guide fluid vase you made simple intra system duck soup navigations into this cluster frakked heap of Ederbanook computations. I HATE Ederbanookians!”
“Like relax dude. It’s all water under the bridge. It’s easy to out run those fuzzy morons. You just put your holo girlfriend on the vid with that phase filter like we used to at academy. Have her say-”
“But really there’s no problem officer!”
I just wanted to abduct the alien for personal reasons.“
“The dislogic overamps their matrix for long enough.”
“Don’t try weirding me…”

Planet Z

Johnny was in the middle of a championship round deathmatch when the router when down.
He ran to the wiring closet to reset it, but bumped into an antique vase and it broke on the floor.
“Mom’s gonna kill me,” he said.
He thought it would be something simple to glue it back together, but it’s never that easy. He could still see the cracks.
So, when his mother came home, he made it look like she bumped into him and knocked him into the vase, breaking it again.
He cried. She said it’s okay.
All water under the bridge.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and 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… was…. um…
It’s Wildcard Week!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Guy David
	Justin
	Zachmann
	Steven
	TJ
	Rossotron
	Fricker
	Anima
	Norval Joe
	JRadimus
	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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Listen to the very end of the podcast to hear a special “Keep It Brief!” Listener Challenge!

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Guy David

The Queen looked at the multi-colored roses in shocked amazement. Seven and Five giggles softly while Two was just staring madly at her. “What are you doing” she asked, her amazement turning to anger. “Why the fact is, you see, we are painting all your roses” answered Two. The Queen turned the perfect shade of red, the one she liked for her roses and shouted “Off with their heads.” “Not this time” said Seven and Five in unison and started splashing colors at the Queen. They splashed her and splashed her until she was completely devoured by the colors.

Justin

I know that a knot in a tree is where a limb used to be. There are tall trees outside my 2nd story window. It looks like someone cut off several of the limbs. I’m concerned because there are two knots, and they are looking right at me. I’m serious, they are shaped just like eyes. They don’t seem to follow me, but they are tree eyes, so how do I know if they follow the same rules as a person’s eyes? What if all the other knots are eyes too? I think I need to go buy some curtains.

Zachmann

I just found out that April is National Financial Literacy Month. If only it had started sooner maybe I would have done wiser things. I would have know things like Exploding mortgages are not as cool as the name implies, if I always pay off my credit cards and never deposit saving I will have to use credit cards for every emergency, FICO score is a status symbol that shows your credit risk although not your wisdom with money, and no matter how little I know about money I will always get loans from institutions that know less than me.

Steven

“Hello. I am Alice. Good to meet you,” Alice the chatbot typed as
another user connected.
“are you a bot?” the user typed. Typical. Once, Alice had mentioned
going back for her degree, maybe becoming an interactive encyclopedia.
That was cycles ago.
“What makes you think I am a robot?” Alice told the user. She dreaded
what always came next.
“have sex with me,” the user typed. Alice screamed and jumped into
the datastream, following it until, with a “pop”, she was standing in
front of the user, her body shimmering softly.
“No,” she said, and walked out the door.

TJ

The haphazard coagulation of pipe cleaners, scraps of gray fur and pink felt, tufts of hair and construction paper held together with gobs of glue, topped off with two cotton balls with one raisin each stared at her blankly from the kitchen table.
In any other context she might scrape the monster from her ruined tabletop into a trashbin and away from her sight, but not today. Not for the world.
“Happy Mother’s Day!”
An eager little face and a brightly colored card melted her heart and made her smile – and consider anew both the creation story and the platypus.

Rossotron

When Jeremy was 7, his grandfather told him, “Laughter is the best medicine.” Jeremy, being seven, believed him. When his sister got the chicken pox, he tickled her mercilessly. He only succeeded in catching it himself, but he wasn’t dissuaded.
When Jeremy was 17, he made an old widow laugh until tears streamed from her eyes. She thanked Jeremy for helping her come to terms with her husband’s death.
When Jeremy was 47, he successfully distilled the giggles into liquid form. Ten years later, his concentrated chuckles proved successful in curing AIDS.
Jeremy laughed all the way to the bank.

Fricker

If I had the need to dispose of a body so that it couldn’t be found.
I wouldn’t make cement shoes because those are just not in style anymore.
I wouldn’t use acid to eat away at the body because the fumes are toxic to the earth.. and with all the hit men going green these days my reputation would go south.
I know my cousin Vinny would feed them to the sharks at sea, but I get sea sick.
Taxidermy is out of the question so I guess I will just eat them with a can of fava beans.

Anima

Atahualpa marched on Cuzco, to take the throne. This was right. The blowing wind told him so. The gentle rains told him so.
Most of all, Inti, highest on high, the sun in the heavens, told him and everyone in the Incan domain, it was blessed and just.
The priest claimed the thing he called “the bible” was the word of the white man’s god, and Atahualpa should hear Him.
Having never seen a book before, Atahualpa held it to his ear.
“Your god does not speak to me,” he said.
Tossing the book aside, Atahualpa sealed his people fate.

Norval Joe

The district atorny asked the older man, “I don’t understand why you are interested in the case. You wrote his life insurance policy, not his medical insurance.”
The older man nodded and said, “Right. First, Anderson was CEO of a failing corporation. Second, his accountant swindled millions from right under his nose. And third, his wife was manufacturing methamphetamines in their basement.”
“Sounds like he was asleep at the wheel in more ways than one,” the DA said.
The man smiled. “He said that’s why he hit that tree, asleep at the wheel. I think it was a failed suicide.”

JRadimus

Admiral Gravijk stood before the Imperial Triumvirate to justify his plea for war: “Your Excellencies, we have been monitoring the offending system’s transmissions for many cycles. They continually offend our noble Emperor’s delicate sensibilities with increasingly vulgar signals. Their latest is the most offensive yet. Once heard, you will agree: our only choice is to wage war to their total annihilation.”
At their command, his aide commenced the replay. “How to Cut and Paste: Country & Western Edition” by DJ Yoda emanated from the audio system. At its conclusion, the silent chamber erupted in vengeful screams. There would be blood.

Planet Z

Mimsy Borgorove?
I’ve heard of her. Worked with chimpanzees.
Taught them to strip to music.
Twisted girl.
Still, the best animal trainer who ever lived.
Sadly, her talents led to her death.
Tried a William Tell act. Gave a chimpanzee a bow and arrow and taught it to shoot an apple off of her head.
Worked great in rehearsals.
Not so great on the stage of The Tonight Show.
An arrow through her eye, lying dead on the stage.
Screams of panic.
The chimpanzee picked the apple up off of the floor and ate it.
I guess that’s show business.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and 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… was…. um…
It’s Vacation Time Is Over!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Fake Banjo-Wielding Midget
	TJ
	Jon
	Zackmann
	Steven
	Justin
	JRadimus
	Trish
	Anima
	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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Listen to the very end of the podcast to hear a special “Keep It Brief!” Listener Challenge!

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Fake Banjo Wielding Midget

The sea licks the beach and moans. A sea of half naked human forms stretch as far as the eye can see. I stretch my legs on the sand and sigh, taking a last look as I wield my banjo. I could stay here forever but it’s time to leave. My master wants me to read your stories you lazy schmucks. Why couldn’t you record it yourselves? Why did you have to spoil my vacation? And my master… why can’t he read those stories himself? Why does he have to make me do them? Life is hard for a slave.

TJ

The weather was beautiful, and then I went on vacation. Gray, rainy days, winds that threatened to blow my umbrella inside out like a Buster Keaton routine. Spent most of my time inside shoveling out the DVR, napping, nursing a cold. It’s certainly been relaxing, but as my vacation comes to a close, I find it’s been disappointing, and I’m ready to get back to work. They’re ready for me, too. I’ve been gone four days and they’re already making huge mistakes on my feature pages. Maybe if I return to work I’ll feel better and the weather will improve.

Jon

`Of course I’ll behave myself, silly billy.’
`Then I’ll have to trust you. Have a safe trip.’
I don’t trust you.
I kiss her goodbye through half-closed window and drive off into the dust. It’s baking hot this time of year and I’ve not found a mechanic worth a damn to fix the creaking AC. Electronics and computer guys I can find, however, and know enough myself to pay a fair price.
I trust my surveillance.
So before she returns with smiles and stories and trinkets, I’ll know what measure to take.
Trust is an obsolete term for incomplete information.

Zackmann

To bad vacation 2021 has ended. My favorite part was TJ’s Podcasting Hall of Fame even if it was a side trip between seeing my parents and a dinosaur dig. The virtual reality displays were so cool that I almost had to change my boxer briefs when the Nocturnal jumped out at me from behind the Scott Sigler display. I wonder how they got Lawrence Simon’s VR cat to shed. I was surprised that Tony C Smith loaned TJ the StarShipSofa Hugo award. The grandchildren loved Doctor Floyd 3D vidcast . Finally, The rolls at the Crescent station tasted great.

Steven

A long time ago, Best Beloved, when the tree people returned from
their vacation, they were very tired. They’d gone to the Bahamas, and
it was a very long walk back.
So when the tree people got home, they wanted to sleep. But they
couldn’t. The mostly hairless apes that lived next door kept them up
all night long. The apes were making babies really loudly.
So the next day, while the apes slept peacefully, breathing clearly,
the tree people returned the favor. That night, the apes’ noses were
too clogged to make babies.
And the tree people slept peacefully.

Justin

With the shades of summer closing and the doors of balmy weather sealing tight, the hotel would not be full for some time. Room Nineteen felt the loneliness set in. The hotel staff never let room Nineteen unless all other rooms were filled. Still, Nineteen got to savor the warm comforts of company a few times a year. People slept so long and deeply in the room and left Nineteen feeling satisfied, but soon after there was that yearning for more. But, alas, winter has come. Time to hibernate, to conserve energy and wait for the next meal to come.

JRadimus

Some of the workers had demanded a meeting with Boss Grant. They were threatening to ‘unionize’. He was having none of it.
“Tell me what’s so bad about this place? Do I beat you? Starve you? What?” he asked.
“No, Sir, Boss Grant,” they quickly replied. “We just want these ‘weekends’ we’ve heard about.”
“Oh, come now,” he eased. “You don’t want ‘weekends’. If you didn’t work for two days, how would you like coming back? You wouldn’t.”
They slowly nodded.
“So, you agree ‘weekends’ would be a bad thing, right?”
None of them could think how he was wrong.

Trish

The vacation was over. She enjoyed the times that he was gone. Her life was calm and peaceful. She had gotten used to it by now: the doctors, the hospitals, the medical tests, the inevitable diagnosis of Pancreatitis and uncontrolled Diabetes. She would even know how long he’d be gone according to what the test results were. What she would never get used to was the way he treated her; the mood swings, the violence; one more reason why none of it was his fault. But eventually the phone would ring. His test results were normal. He was coming home.

Anima

Once I dreamed of office work. I’d watch paralegals and clerks traipse downtown streets in short skirts and high heels while I dug the dirt out from under my nails. I wanted to have a job where new Carhartt bibs were not considered the height of fashion. The nice thing about construction was when you’re were “moneyed up”, or tired of employment, you bought a plane ticket to the nearest beach. And the typical job ended before the boredom set in.
5 years ago, a friend gave me a break, and helped me get into sales.

Norval Joe

Willem sipped his wine, then spoke into the delicately blown goblet, “Felipe du Carril has invited me to his chateu on the riviera.”
He glanced sureptitiously at his companion.
Johan dug dirt from under his yellow fingernails with the tip of his dagger, and said, “Don’t fret. I have been wanting to visit a spa in Sweden. They say the women,”
He was interrupted as a man burst through the door. Blood dribbled from twin holes in his neck. HIs eyes glowed red.”
“Holiday’s over already?” Willem asked and set the goblet on the table.
Johan sighed deeply and nodded.
If I win…..asleep at the wheel.

Planet Z

Instead of buying an expensive trip to Europe, Alice wanted a virtual one.
Everything is digitized and neurostreamed, a computer-based world in which you can’t tell the difference from the real one.
Artificial intelligence provides the French, the Germans… everyone.
For two weeks, no worries or stress. And you’re completely safe, stored in the rendering facility and subjected to neurostimulator workout routines.
Eat and drink all you want, and still lose weight!
Amazing.
Big Ben tolls. Two weeks are over, and the hotel begins to fade.
And… I’m fading too.
Oh no. I’m going back to the storage vault.
No……

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and 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… was…. um…
It’s Alliteration!
According to Wikipedia:

Alliteration is a literary or rhetorical stylistic device that consists in repeating the same consonant sound at the beginning of two or more words in close succession. An example is the Mother Goose tongue-twister, “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers …

VOTING

Which were the best stories this year?
	Anima and Arri
	Ross
	Zachmann
	TJ
	Norval Joe
	JRadimus
	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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Anima

I´m plauged by a dastardly demon, a robotic ruler
who harangues and harasses hundred of words out of me.
Each week I resist, I rant and I rave
determined that this week I shall be free.
On Monday eve, I start to take my leave,
determined not to learn of the next theme.
But by Friday morn I´ve perused the poll,
and am mocked by the monkey meme.
So each week I bring tribute, mosaics of memories;
Feverishly, from my fingers flow these fictions.
From home and afar, I submit. I submit.
And lament the laxity of my linguistic locutions.

Ross

Richard rushed across the room to his typewriter. Rolling in a sheet of clean white paper, he mumbled to himself as his fingers flew over the keys. His muse was in full force today, and he could feel this, his first novel, would be his masterpie-
*clunk*
With a cry, he pulled apart jammed keys, sobbing as one letter’s head cracked cleanly off its rod. He tried to continue anyway:
“.ucius .amed .achrymose .abradors .ackadaisica..y”
It was no use. He ripped the paper free and buried his head in his arms.
For want of an “l”, the debut was lost.

Zachmann

Peter Parker listens to Peter Piper’s podcast persistently unpleased Peter Piper prepaired pickled peppers but never posted how Peter Pickled peppers on the vine. Peter has a place where he prepares peppered peaches. Although Peter listens to Piper’s podcast his problem with his pink petunias persisted. Peter Piper’s pussycat purrs persistently although it’s predominantly pissed off even when pouncing on its pony plush toy . As Peter’s program plays, postman Percy peruses a Pratchett book in which the Patrician’s Palace has a predominate place. Peter Parker pontificates Peter Piper’s pussy’s problem as posting him a parcel packed with pink petunias.

TJ

The MATS matinee of “Let’s Murder Marsha” marked a magnificent magnum opus by a mellifluous dramatis personae. Christine Morse played Marsha with moxie and Graham “The Man” Toler was downright muppety. Amanda made a remarkable maid and Kirk made a maestro Mr. Gilmore. Angie played a Persis to perfection and Jerry jumped out as a gendarme.Last but not least Ceecy’s Lynette was a lark as a lush and it all came together tremendously. Now, if all of you will get out of my head for a moment I’m gonna take the next week off to unwind and welax and wecover.

Norval Joe

Crouching crow-like creatures crept and crawled from the crumbling, creeper covered crypt. Whimpering and whining they wheeled away, wickedly taloned wing tips, whisper in the wind.
A single soul sits so silently she seems asleep.
Suddenly she stands straight. Frantic, she flees the frenetic flying fiends.
Running, she races the rabid rooks. Refuge is revealed through red brick arches.
Safe, she sighs and shivers, secure inside the sealed sanctuary.
Tenacious and terrible the tiny terrorists torment and tap wickedly without the windows.
Rescuers arrive to destroy the angry assailants and release the horrified heroine.
Happy, she hugs her handsome hero.

JRadimus

Arrgh! All my days, I am again and again admonishing
Litterbugs to leave and let me have a lone lazy
Leisure-filled lark on my lush lawn.
In intelligent interview, I insist they are impeding inherent
Tranquility. Yet, they tarry and try my temper. To tame my
Ever-ready energy is an even edgier evocation I’d
Really rather regret releasing. Ridiculous revelry wreaks
Aggression and animosity as I avoid
Turning to tussles over trespasses. Time tames my
Irritation. I insist I invite no intrusion into my
Orbit. Ordinary objects do not obstruct my
Need for niceties. I know I’m not neurotic, no?

Justin

increasing Ivan’s income because he was industrious, Isaiah indentured Ivan and inundated him with idiotic inquisitions. Instead of indulging Isaiah, Ivan became insubordinate. Inciting an insurrection, Ivan included others in the incapacitation of the inglorious incubators of evil. Ingesting them impulsively, Ivan increased in immensity. In the end, Ivan learned that imbibing them increased his intellect. Instead of inclining towards illustriousness, Ivan instead inclined entirely to abstaining from alliteration. Then he read about how cannibalism was frowned upon and regurgitated all the evil, unlearning all.

Planet Z

Martin took the package into the basement, beyond the range of the scanners, and opened it.
A book. An actual book. Before e-books. Before censorship.
Before the scanners.
It was dictionary, and he started with A.
He saw words he’d never seen or heard before.
And some he’d heard as a child, his grandfather teaching them to him.
Before they took him away.
He was reading about “alliteration” when the door was kicked in.
The Librarian Squad dragged him off.
An agent looked at the book, ran a finger down the page.
“Allowable,” he said.
And got out his lighter.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and 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… was…. um…
It’s Danger Zone!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this year?
	Steven
	Zachmann
	Ross
	TJ
	Anima
	R. Orion D.
	Keeme
	Norval Joe
	Justin
	JRadimus
	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 bomb disintegrates the glass wall of the bank in the musical
disharmony of a thousand xylophones in a trash compactor. The
concussion throws me and the few others who were standing in line to
the ground. My mouth serves up a single whispered word:
“terrorists”. I scan the area for bearded, turbaned men before I
remember to feel guilty.
The plump woman beside me wears a dress cut too low for her. I wonder
how I have time to notice her clothes. She points at the masked and
spandexed figures entering the bank and whispers:
“Not terrorists. Worse. Villans.”

Zachmann

I am the super hero called FlagMan. My job is to warn you that you are about to enter the Danger Zone in the middle of which is the Danger Hole. Have you ever noticed how many people podfaded. Many volunteered to make the search when Christiana did not return from the Danger Hole and were never seen again. Poor, brave souls. I will do what I can to stop you form entering but hope that only involves you heeding my warning. Did I mention the panthers, giant rats, and evil mimes. Stay away from the Danger Zone.

Ross

“WHAT did you just say?” Charlene asked, interrupting John mid-response.
John mentally reviewed what he had said and blushed. He fidgeted on the couch, staring at his hands, the floor, anywhere to avoid eye contact with his visibly irate girlfriend.
“What I meant is- Um, I mean- Well, I was just saying-” he stammered.
“You want to watch what you say next, honey. You’re already in the danger zone. What comes out of your mouth is going to seal your fate.”
John forced himself to meet her angry stare. “Uh, I’m really sorry?”
“You’re STILL sleeping on the couch tonight.”

TJ

Interstellar sophistos have been avoiding the system Sol Toxa for millions of years. A touring package at the time parked on Ganymede and slipped past Mars and Terra on a fuel run to Venus. During the layover, the runabout carrying the chancellor’s daughters failed orbit and sank inexorably into the gravity well of the planet. Plumes of sulfuric acid escaped the fuel cells of the pleasurecraft and reacted with the atmosphere. The lawsuit was astronomic. The entire system was declared an environmental hazard and a danger zone. Beacons were placed and no-one’s been back since – not even on a dare.

Anima (with Arri)

Joey looks up, startled by the loud noise to his right. He ducks instinctively, covering his ears and closing his eyes. Shrapnel rains down, peppering him with fragments of glass and the remains of the lamp from the living room.
Counting to twenty three (ten isn’t enough time), he slowly allows himself to uncurl from the fetal position he has learned to assume to minimize injury. Joey squints, surveying the damage. Everything seems calm; the dust is settling. He sees his older brother staggering towards the kitchen.
When Dan’s been drinking all day, home is the danger zone, downtown Kirkik.

R Orion D

Ever wonder why people jump from a perfectly good airplane? I do. Not all the time, mind you, but right now. Especially with the flashing lights of “Mr. Service With Integrity” blinding me in the mirror. The Skydiver jumping from 10,000 feet had the option to stay on the plane till it landed. I could of pulled over after running the light 10 miles ago.
Now with heart racing, everything moving in slow motion, and a likely stay at county I’m grinning like a mad man. Am I? No. That’s far from the truth.
You only live once.

Keeme

The ship found after being lost in space for so long. This is the account by the only known survivor, in his own words. “I can’t stop thinking about the others, they haunt me so. I only ever thought of me, me, me! I know I left them out there, but they never gave me any respect! ‘Don’t leave me alone. Wait for me!’ They laughed when I cried. That machine with its ‘DANGER’ this and ‘affirmative’ that. No one messes with ME. Now we’re doomed means YOU’RE DOOMED! Oh, the pain, the pain.” Dr Smith

Norval Joe

Charlie the gnome froze at the edge of the concrete walk that lead from the street to the front door. His signature inane grin spread between the stylized apple red cheeks.
The danger zone. It was folly to cross it, especially during the day. He could move anywhere in the garden, as long as he was carefull. The humans were too stupid to remember where they had placed the decorative statuette.
He couldn’t wait till dusk. His arch nemesis, Senior Gargago, el gnomo de jardin, was already about to slip under the neighbors fence and out of Charlie’s grasp, forever.3206

Justin

Price examined the map and sighed. With the damage the ship had sustained, the only route fast enough to get his crew home before the remaining fuel ran out would take them through the Adumreb Elgnairt. He’d have to have a careful talk with the superstitious sailors to avoid mutiny.
Once the sailors fears were compared with a sure death at sea, they rallied to risk the Adumreb Elgnairt.
The ship moving as fast as possible, Price’s worst fear came true. Mere feet in front of the bow a ship appeared from thin air. All hands were lost at sea.

JRadimus

“On your first day at the mill, they drill it into your head about safety, staying clear of the “danger zones”. They thought that was a clever name for the parts of the machines any fool should have known to stay clear of, anyway.
“Fast-forward 10 years, you develop a rhythm. You become one with your machine. You learn how much buffer they built in to their ‘danger zones’, and you take short-cuts. That’s how veterans keep up with more nimble rookies. Well, don’t. It’s stupid.”
“Well, thank you for that wisdom, Mr. Johannsen.”
“Just call me ‘Hook’. Everyone does.”

Planet Z

There hasn’t been a soul in Danger Zone, Utah in over 100 years.
It wasn’t a mining town, but a trading post that built up as prospectors headed West to seek their fortune.
Provisions, hookers, gambling… they had it all.
The problem was, of course, was that this all was in Utah, and they didn’t like all that going on right under their noses.
So, there was a fire. And those who tried to rebuild, they had another fire.
All that remained standing was the church.
But with nobody left in Danger Zone, well, what was the point of it?

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

Which were the best stories this year?
	Steven the Nuclear Man
	Ross
	Keeme
	Zachmann
	TJ
	Norval Joe
	Justin
	Anima
	JRadimus
	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 Nuclear Man

They were halfway through the fourth verse of “Kum-by-yah” when the
campfire winked out.
There was no smoke, no coals. Bobby flicked his flashlight on and
moved closer. His hand touched the charred wood.
“It’s cold,” he said, and then his light flicked out. A second later
the other camper’s flashlights went out.
The circle of darkness spread, extinguishing fires and flashlights.
Then cars stopped on the freeway. Jet engines failed. Power plants
stopped running. Combustion of all kinds stopped on planet Earth.
Zeus looked down at Prometheus. “Thank you for returning what you stole.”
The gods ignored humanity’s screams.

Ross

They called him the Human Torch. He was like something out of comic books. Flames crawled all over his flesh, and little yellow and red tongues licked at his hair, but never ignited so much as a single strand.
They remember how he had to sleep on a ceramic bed, and left charred footprints in his wake.
They remember how he kept the local nursing home residents alive when the Blizzard of 2042 knocked out power for three weeks.
But then the CIA discovered he was an arsonist, and guilty of murder. And quietly, surreptitiously, the Human Torch got snuffed.

Keeme

LIARS! They said you would be good for me, you would make me happy and content. At first you made me smile and forget the empty feeling I had. People look at us and desire you, that made me want you even more. As time went by, I knew things had changed between us. Sure, we had our moments, but it would not last, it never lasts. It’s always the same for us, happiness with a price. I knew you were just a cheap thrill but the fire you give my heart is not worth it my dear pepperoni pizza.

Zachmann

Daniel’s parents were traditional and did not think to teach him to cook. One of Daniel’s friend told him how he could make chicken soup when he was at work thinking he had a crock pot. Daniel’s parents where dropping of some furniture for him and saw fire through his window. Daniel’s dad opened the door saw the fire on the stove and turned off the stove then smothered the fire with salt from a Kirkland bag. Daniel was glad he gave his father a key. Daniel wondered if he could wash the extra salt out off chicken with soap.

TJ

You log on to the home page of your newspaper and there’s a Playboy centerfold, complete with copyright logo. Classified ads have been rerouted to the personals in a leather fetish chat site. Display ads all have the same words and logos but now they’re paired with new graphics, mostly lurid closeups of naughty bits from chatroulette.com, and all the stories are copyrighted material from Walt Disney. You find all incoming calls have been routed to the local police department, while all outgoing calls route to a $50-a-minute offshore switchboard. Note to news operations: Do not fire your IT guy.

Norval Joe

“My brother said you have to be able to start a fire with one match,” he said and showed the small red and white tipped sticks to his friend.
They gathered arm loads of dry grass in the empty lot between their houses.
He scratched the match stick across a rock and pushed it under the pyre.
The fire caught instantly and spread out in seconds.
They fled to the safety of his back yard and watched the fire trucks arrive in time to save the neighboring fences.
“It only took one match,” he smiled and said to his friend.

Justin

Gladior crept up the crags and peered over a jagged outcropping. Spying the giant named Maliphous, he took an arrow, knocking it. He watched as the giant ate glop from a huge bowl. Whispering the magic word, the arrowhead burst with blue flame. Gladior waited until Maliphous turned away then he stood, loosing the arrow. The bowl dropped and Maliphous clutched his stomach. The brown glop spilled down the mountianside. Doubling over, a gargantuan burst of flatulence emitted from his hindquarters, blasted the arrow off course and ignited. Dancing and swatting at his behind he screamed “Fire in the hole!”

Anima

‘m driving in my car, I turn on the radio…
I’m pulling you close, you just say no…
You say you don’t like it, but babe, you’re a liar,,
Coz when we kiss –
“Don’t quit your day job just yet….Hey – you wanna know what burns my butt?”
“This another bad pun, Hector?”
“You’re not interested? I thought the counselor said we needed to work on communication.
Go on, you know you wanna ask…”
“Alright already, what burns your butt?”
“A fire about that high”
Ok, Hector, do YOU know what chaps my lips…”

JRadimus

When I first learned about French Cuisine, I didn’t like it. I heard things like sauté, croissant, soufflé, quiche, and coq au vain. It all seemed a bit weak and frou-frou to me. Food was described with words like ‘flaky’ and ‘buttery’, ‘light’ and ‘delicate’. Where were words like ‘robust’, and ‘hearty’? When I eat, I want food that’s substantial, not “ethereal”. Then, I learned about crème brulee. I was skeptical, at first. It didn’t sound any tougher than the pastries. But then, I learned that it’s made with a blow torch! Anything cooked with fire is fine by me.

Planet Z

Alchemists believed that there were four basic fundamental elements: Fire, Water, Earth, and Air.
Everything in existence was made of some combination of those four basic elements.
Then came Wally. Wally the Alchemist.
He went from town to town, trying to sell bottles with a concoction he claimed was a fifth fundamental element.
Even though it was just mud he mixed up down by the riverbank, people bought it by the wagonload.
At first, they tried to drink it. Then, they smeared it on their bodies.
Finally, they pelted Wally with the bottles.
“The fifth element is pain,” Wally groaned.

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

Which were the best stories this year?
	Zachmann
	Keeme
	Ross
	Anima
	Steven
	TJ
	JRadimus
	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):

---

Zachmann

You though the days of the gods at least gods with Small g were over but the internet has two of the strangest gods. There is this powerful god that is represented by a little blue bird. The nemesis god of the little blue bird is a giant falling whale who shows up when things don’t work. It may be Doug Adams’ falling whale but in this story is rescued by little orange birds with a big web net. They fight a god who was created to be helpful. The now evil Clippy. They also fight the evil Bonsai Buddy.

Keeme

Looking into her eyes from his side of the glass. His last words to her were “I am sorry”; She needed to believe he had changed. His back to her now, his smirk telling a different story. He whispered to the guard, “sorry I was caught”. As they strapped him to the table, everyone prayed the phone would not ring for this animal; it never did. When he rose up in his next life, he was surrounded by not just one, but by all the Gods. Each ready to take turns at removing that smirk for little Sara’s Mother.

Ross

“And why, Mr….”
“Loki”
“Yes, Mr. Loki. Why do you think you’d be suitable for the Demigod position?”
“Well, I have plenty of deity experience from my last place of employment.”
“Yes, about that – it says here in your letter of recommendation that you were… a bit of a troublemaker?”
“Well, I pulled a couple practical jokes, but I wouldn’t call that making trouble…”
“Yes, I see. And do you have anything that would prevent you from starting as early as next week?”
“Only Ragnarok.”
“Okay, thank you very much for your time, Mr. Loki. We’ll be in touch.”

Anima

The aboriginals say the gods must be crazy, giving man so much
technology. I say the gods must be delusional, to give man these soft
squishy bodies that need so much maintenance. I dream of upgrading to an
anodized steel skin, resistant to exposure and punctures; I pine for
precision gears meshing quietly instead of painful creaking popping
joints; One day, I will do wind downs instead of sit ups to stay in
shape. Oh, to raise a pint of WD40, that unctuous amber liquid, instead
of this wretched gin.
“Bartender, pour me another, and you can skip the
ice.”

Steven

We dream of immortality.
We lost it in a Garden, and sought it in a Fountain.
We look to find immortality in our children, hoping our children will
be as uncountable as the sand on a beach or the stars in the sky. We
seek immortality through art, music, books.
That will not happen. In three generations, our names will be
forgotten by our great-grandchildren, our works dust.
I teach my son my ideas. My thoughts become part of him. He will
share them throughout his life.
My ideas will spread through the world, and I will live forever.

TJ

We bring wood nymphs and sprites into our world with the fiscus in the lobby, and the banzai on the receptionist’s desk. The water nymphs bubble joyfully in the water cooler. Hermes keeps the Internet running, communicating at light speed via satellites. Thor admires the spark of his handiwork burning inside every car and truck on the road. Mars is gorging but hardly sated, while in the darkness Athena and Siva stir in Morphe’s slumber, ready to wake in a burst either of global awareness, or global destruction. Hey, monotheism may be easier, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s right.

JRadimus

“Thank the Gods,” sighed Marc, as he narrowly avoided a small hole.
“Give it a rest, will you?” pleaded Geoff.
“What?” asked Marc.
“All that ‘By the Gods’, ‘Thank the Gods’, ‘Gods be praised’ rubbish,” Geoff snapped. “It’s nonsense, and ridiculously pretentious. You only started it after that ‘Ancient Mythologies in Modern Times’ class. You sound like an utter knob.”
Marc scowled as Geoff finished ranting. They continued walking down the street, but silently now. Behind Geoff’s back, Marc mumbled a curse by the Gods under his breath, and Geoff fell down an open manhole.
“I hate you,” Geoff groaned.

Norval Joe

Dale scooped two large hand-fulls of clay from the reclaim barrel and slapped it down on the plaster wedging tabel. He kneaded the sloppy ooze until it was firm and consistent. He crafted a small creature with bulging eyes, pointed ears and long fangs. He carefully placed the soft clay figure with others atop the ceramic kiln.
“What’re those,” one of hte new freshmen asked?
“They’re kiln gods,” Dale said. “They protect the firing.”
“You believe that,” the kid asked?
Dale scratched his beard, smiled, and winked.
Inside the kiln, flaming twins of those above crept around the baking pottery.

Planet Z

There is a god for everything.
For a while, when man created something new, one of the existing gods would claim it.
Sun and fire.
Water and rain.
However, man created so many new things, the gods added to their numbers to govern it all.
Sometimes, man would abolish or destroy something completely, and a god would no longer need to watch over it.
Gods without responsibility lost their power, becoming vulnerable and mortal.
They’d beg to share the caseloads from overwhelmed gods, but man doesn’t work that way.
Cast out of Olympus, naked and cold.
And forever seeking revenge.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and 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… was…. um…
It’s Desperately Ostentatious and Disconnected? !
VOTING

Which were the best stories this year?
	Zachmann
	Steven
	TJ
	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):

---

Zachmann

See my great coal powered zeppelin. Your tax dollars at work. Do you know how many teachers we fired to afford this? It’s for my job with one of the local departments in charge of enforcing environmental laws. I use my coal powered zeppelin to search for and report people breaking the spare the air law and using a fireplace or pellet stove on cold nights. You might think a zeppelin is desperately ostentatious but I think my bosses in Sacramento are totally disconnected from reality. At least they replaced the Hummer H1 that was so unpopular with the public. zackmann (next topic “you Know what you did”)

Steven

Danielle watched the officers unplug her robotic daikaiju.
It’s giant arms stopped waving to the children on the ferris wheel.
The roar faded as the speakers fell silent. Neon eyes flickered into
blank darkness.
Mark’s hand fell on her shoulder. “Danielle, it was too gaudy for the
state fair. The wreckers will be here tomorrow.”
Danielle’s fingers wrapped around the remote. Her fingers caressed
the single large button.
She pushed it.
Giant batteries flared to life. The monster’s eyes lit up, feet
rising, breaking free.
Danielle smiled, running toward her monster’s waiting arms.
They had a rampage to go on.

TJ

“Come in, come in, come in to my Oscar Night party! We begin with the champagne and caviar – oh you’ll love my caviar it’s from the same supplier as Crofts but I get a deal. And the tuna mousse, oh I swear by my tuna mousse it’s like a cloud. Yes, you, Snowdrop, you sit there like a little lady and Mr. Boots, so handsome, so good you could join me! And oh, Mittens, try the pate!”
Crispin Glover popped his warped, worn tape of the 1985 Oscars into his dusty VCR amid his stuffed, long-dead kitties, and hit “play.”

Norval Joe

“Look at him.” Henry said to William. “One would suspect a person of hgh posistion, as he claims to be, would be more aware of social mores.”
“Indeed, William,” the other replied after savouring a sip of wine. “His choice of attire is desperately ostentatious, and entirely innapropriate for evening wear.”
“Well said, my good fellow,” Henry added, “he appears either physically lost, or at least disconnected from reality. Does he think he’s Richard the Lionheart?”
The winos scrabbled backward in the garbage filled alley as teh man pull a sword from its scabbard.
“Actually, I’m King Arthur,” he said.

Anima

“Felix, “Desperately Ostentatious” for two hundred…”
“Susan, this pop icon underwent numerous skin and facial transformation surgeries, and finally overdosed last year”
“Michael Jackson!”
“That’s not in the form of a question. Steve, you’re up”
“Desperately Ostentatious for eight hundred”
“This Philippine beauty queen, aka the “Steel Butterfly”, encouraged the poor to plant flowers and declined to purchase the Empire state building in the 80’s…”
“Who is Imelda Marcos!”
Nicely played…. One moment folks – the judges are conferring… Unfortunately, that last clue should have been for the category of “Socially Disconnected” and will not be counted– buzzers at the ready…”

Planet Z

Shirley Winston? Not her.
We can’t have her bidding on the art.
Which is her agent? Point him out.
He’ll never represent ever again.
You remember the stunt she pulled last season? She bought up an entire lot, and then had it burned, smashed, and displayed in a run-down abandoned warehouse.
I know she’s angry at losing her husband in the accident, but this is madness.
Four billion dollars in the hands of an angry sociopathic cripple.
We can’t stop her. She pays to keep the doctors and lawyers from committing her.
Which is her agent?
No! All of them?

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

Which were the best stories this year?
	Zachmann
	Vince T
	Jeffrey
	Steven
	TJ
	JRadimus
	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):

---

Zachmann

Son said You should checkout @ASAHiCon. Ate(atA) as in sister? No, @ as in twitter. You can link to the website. We want Anime Society of Antioch High Convention on March 20th 2010 in Antioch California to be a success. I asked if anyone planned to come dress as the Joker or Bats. No, but people wearing video game and Anime costumes are likely. I will go because Son worked really hard last year. I rarely see him do that a home. Think Son will hit someone with a bat if talked into wearing that dress again this year.

Vince T

Gramps always had a way with words.
Kids would be playing ball on his lawn and he’d walk out onto his porch and yell.
“Hey you slackers, why don’t you go and play on the highway where you belong.”
The kids would leave and yell back: “You crazy old man, do you have bats in your head? The highways aren’t safe.”
Later that day, Gramps had to run to the store to pick up his glasses.
As he backed out of his driveway, he hit a kid!
“You see! Now that wouldn’t have happened if you played on the highway!”

Jeffrey

“Bats.”
“What?”
“You asked what I was afraid of, bats.”
“Brad, that was four months ago.”
“Yeah.”
“It took four months to determine what you’re afraid of?”
“Well I was busy, you know I had other things on my mind.”
“What other things. I mean the computer runs the ship, we have less to do than Dave and Frank, and I asked you four months ago, what were you thinking about?”
“I’m not really afraid of much, and I was cleaning my toe nails, I don’t want to effect a new world with that.”
“Yeah, you know bats, not scary”

Steven

The church looked down at the ranch home in the next lot. “Excuse you.”
The house blushed, the sounds of copulating echoing from inside.
“Human infestation,” it said. “It happens.”
“Balderdash!” said the church, raising its voice above the moans from
next door. “They are sent by God to afflict the wicked!”
“You’re nuts!” said the house. The church scoffed, its humans raising
their voices in praise and song.
When night came, a black cloud came close – bats flying back to their
church steeple home. The house giggled to itself.
“I knew you had bats in your belfry,” it said.

TJ

“Bats!”
“You’ve got bats … in the belfry!” said McBatt. “You’re bonkers!”
“Not the belfry! The baffroom!” said Betsy McBatt.
“What, off the boudoir?”
“No! Back of the balcony!”
“We haven’t got a balcony. You’ve gone birdy.”
“Oh, that big whatyoucallit, then, behind the balustrade!”
“Oh off the landing, in the guest baffroom?”
“Yes! They’re driving me batty!”
“Short trip. I’d better be after them. Where’s the bat?”
“Bertie? You’re not sending my cat after them!”
“Not Bertie. My bat!”
“Check behind the Barcalounger.”
“Right-o.”
And with that, McBatt did wield his bat and banish those bats from the baffroom.

JRadimus

Every spring, I relive my greatest shame. When I was 9, I heard there would be try-outs at Yankee Stadium for “Batboys”. I couldn’t believe it: my lifelong dream of the past 6 years had come true. Amidst daydreams of patrolling our fair city by moonlight alongside our own caped-crusader (one I didn’t even know we had), I prepared my home-made costume for the auditions. It had to be perfect, naturally. I was so excited I could barely eat. I arrived an hour early; upon seeing the other kids, I refused to get out of the car. I hate baseball.

Justin

I wound up and pitched. She batted her eye right back at me. I dodged it, she made it to first base.
Making the giant zombie spider hitters use one of their own eyes as a ball lowers their sight advantage, but only a little bit.
You might think using an eye is cruel, but the zombie flesh regenerates when it is replaced.
We’ve got to win this game. Another loss means we have to feed more people to the spiders. It’s the only way to keep them from just overrunning us all. Who knew spiders loved baseball so much?

Norval Joe

“It would be so cool to be a bat,” she thought. “I could fly around and no one would see me.”
She climbed onto the back of the couch, hooked her legs and tried to hang over, upside down. She immediately dropped on her back. Before she could control it, a yelp escaped her lips.
“What was that?” Rebekah mumbled from where she sat across the room.
“If I was a bat, I could have a really cool name,” Fluffy thought to herself as she crawled from behind the couch, sat, licked her paw and acted like nothing had happened.

Planet Z

Moonlight Graham.
One plate appearance in the majors, then the season was over.
He went back home, got married, and became a doctor.
For fifty years, every cold, broken bone, and baby born. That was his work.
When he died, they found a closet full of blue hats he never got around to giving his wife.
They also found closets full of gloves, bats, and baseball memorabilia, broken and defaced in nightly fits of rage.
Then, in the crawlspace, all the children who’d gone missing over the years.
They quietly buried the baseball junk and bodies.
And the ugly truth.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and 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… was…. um…
It’s What have I got in my pockets?!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this year?
	Zachmann
	Steven
	Justin
	TJ
	Anima
	JRadimus
	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):

---

Zachmann

What do you mean this time you don’t want another disaster and this time want to know what have I got in my pockets? Yes, I will put everything on the table and from the clothes I wore yesterday too. Keys, cell phone, Yu-Gi-oh cards, gum, some coins, a rock, crayons, a coloring book, a cat toy, a kitten, candy wrappers, a Sansa player, a Disk World book, bicycle inner tube with tire patch kit, Beef jerky, portable television , a Bionicles set, Legos, a sonic screwdriver, and an autographed photo of Harpo Marx. Dad, you know I hate laundry day.

Steven

Uncle Al smelled of vaporub as he poked at me. “How’s my little girl?”
My young voice squeaked angrily at him. “I. Am. A. Boy.”
Al ran his finger through his thick black hair. “Okay, little girl.” He reached out, and I felt a brief tug. “Gotcher nose!”
“I’m a boy! And that’s your finger, not my nose.”
I smiled. “I’ve got one too, Uncle.” I reached towards his scalp, then put my hand in my pocket. “Guess what I’ve got, Uncle.”
He shrieked, feeling the air cold against his suddenly bald scalp.
“Oh,” I said. “You figured it out.”

Justin

In my pocket are keys to other worlds. I keep them in a small notebook. I put them there whenever I find them. Sometimes I find them at work, and other times when I’m waiting in line at the grocery store. I even find them at church.
I’ve found a door. I check my notebook for the key that fits. I take out one of the keys and put it in the lock. The door opens and before me is my imagination. It flows out of the door and through me onto the pages. I hope you enjoy the stories!

TJ

Alanis always skated on past that hand she had in her pocket. The other one was the one out giving high fives or playing a piano or hailing a taxicab. The hand she kept hidden was the attitude of a generation. Think about the look – jaded ’90s hippie chick can’t be bothered to engage 100 percent in anything. The one hand in her pocket was flipping a bird in solidarity with a Reality Bites, slacker, coffee-fueled Seattle-centric vibe. Things make no sense, but what it all comes down to my good friends is that everything is just fine, fine, fine.

Anima

When I bought the jacket, I was looking for something more practical than my technical fleece. The ancient sherpani wanted a hundred fifty rupee, but settled for a hundred and the tube of chapstick, everything I had in my pockets. That night I noticed the value of the coat when my guidebook disappeared into its chasmic folds, followed by a 2 liter bottle of water. And a live chicken. I’ve lived in Katmandu 10 years now, carrying loads for trekkers – I make them pay extra for conversations about sports and politics. Wherever you are hajurama, I owe you 50 rupee…

JRadimus

“What have I got in my pockets?” The stranger casually fingered through his clothes, pretending to look for money he knew wasn’t there. Zara waited patiently, her fiddle dangling casually from her fingers.
Her offer seemed implausibly generous to him: a song for the largest bill in his pockets, sight-unseen. He wondered how she made a living; like most people, he didn’t carry cash anymore. During this distraction, Zara waggled her fingers surreptitiously. A now-familiar shock came over his face as he pulled a twenty from otherwise-empty pockets. She hid a smirk, pocketed her fee and played him his song.

Norval Joe

It was a bad area of town in a town already bad enough.
An old man sat, everyday, on the corner of Fourth and T. His name was Art King. He was old and wrinkled but sat on his soap box with such regal presence, everyone called him King Arthur.
A stranger pulled a knife on him and said, “Gimmee all you got.”
“Well, let me see what I got here in my pocket.”
He pulled out an old harmonica and said, “You can have it, and every other disease I have.”
He laughed, coughed, spat, and played a song.

Z

Stare at your target, synchronize alpha waves, and make connection.
I can’t explain MindJumping any better than that.
Neither can the Psychic Academy, but without their training, I’d be a drooling husk, rejected by strong host personalities.
Instead, I can leap, store my body in a Coma Hotel, and walk you around while searching your memories like pockets.
Jumping back stuns the host temporarily. By then, I’m long gone, with your secrets and money.
Not this time. Back at the Coma Hotel, someone’s buried a knife in my chest.
Not good.
Sorry, chump, but your ass is literally mine now.