Category: Weekly Challenge

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

This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eighty-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 Mustache

And we’ve got stories by:

Thomas
Tom
Chris Munroe
Paladin
Zackmann
Steven the Nuclear Man
Danny
Norval Joe
TJ
Planet Z

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

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Thomas

She had a beautiful set of mustaches. Many considered her facial décor off-putting, but she had such gorgeous features and long, auburn hair. When she was a teen, she used peroxide to hide the black hairs that had just begun to peek out of her upper lip. One day, in her haste to catch the school bus, she used too much peroxide and burned her lip. She vowed that she would never do it again, and in spite of what her parents and teachers said, she groomed her beautiful mustaches, combed them and waxed them. The boys were envious.

##

The mustache was very unhappy. Hosted on the grisly face of a man that submerged it in a mug of warm beer on so many occasions, and suffering the indignity of ignored, crusty secretions that were so common during the cold, winter months. Worse, the hours following a bout of vigorous lovemaking with his obese girlfriend. The mustache vowed to do something to escape captivity. Each morning, when the mustached man awoke, he discovered his mustache growing, and growing thicker and darker on a different part of his face. Sometimes, under his lip, sometimes in the middle of his forehead.

Tom

You might find this hard to believe but I was born with a mustache. Not some glorified milk-mark, we’re talking major growth. Some folk got a photo of themselves buck naked on a rug, I got a waxed hand-bar. The nuns wanted me to shave it off in second grade, but my parents doubled the tuition payment, got to be a Wiseman that year. In 8th grade I grew a beard and played Jesus in the passion play. Last year the chemo cleared all the hair off my head, the mustache was having none of that fuck you very much

Chris Munroe

Five days into growing a moustache I looked like a pedophile. I’ll own that.

The percentage of people who actually suit one, after all, is frighteningly small. Still, I commit to what I do, so the ‘stache was staying.

Until you got me drunk, waited for me to pass out and shaved it.

The next day, I faced my still-moustachioed friends, clean-shaven.

Humiliated.

You thought I’d forgive this betrayal.

I’ll never forgive. Nor will I forget.

I’ll always remember, the fifth of Movember. The moustaches, treason and plot. I see no good reason moustaches and treason should ever be forgot.

Paladin

Frost gathered on his mustache as it often did this time of year. It wasn’t quite cold enough for snow, but plenty enough for his breath to make phantoms in the night air. As usual, the stark autumn chill did little to keep the streets clear this night. The next wave approached. Searching flashlights preceeced the semi-ordered mob, advancing upon his position in a vague formation as he pulled his mask down into place, grinning beneath it. They fanned out as they approached his position, shouting their mighty battle cry in unison: “Trick or treat!”

Zackmann

Snidely, that you?
That is Reverend Whiplash now.
So how are Dudley and Nell Fenwich?
Sad story. Nell ran away south of the border with Horse and they were married in Florida. They got caught up in a big legal battle to stay married when Florida law changed. They are celebrating their marriage three times a night which would be good if not that they were doing it on stage in a bar in Mexico to pay court costs and send money to Nell’s grandparents who live on a ranch in Alberta and take care of their three centaur children.
zackmann

Is that a paper-doll book? I haven’t seen one of those since we cleaned grandmas attic.
Oh yes, it’s The Fump I Want to Be Weird Al Choose Your Own Adventure book. Although Lawrence Simon is not a fumper the first doll is him, a fan service. Due to the success of his punch out paper mustaches book the company decided to try the paper-dolls. Do you think Shoe box looks better with the mullet or Absalom length hair? How does Carla look with Devo’s beard and Glasses? If enough sell they will introduce lesser know musicians like The Beatles.

Steven the Nuclear Man

I put my arm around the girl’s shoulder, guide her toward the funhouse door.

“Daddy, I’m not sure-”

“It’s fine, pumpkin.” The endearment is ash in my mouth. “Nothing bad can happen to you in there,” I lie.

“Mommy hasn’t come out yet- ”

I bite the words off. “It’s fine.”

“Daddy, you’re acting funny, like that Star Trek episode where they came from a para… para…”

“One, please,” I shout to the figure at the funhouse door and push the girl toward him.

She goes to her doom, and I rub my newly-bare chin, thankful this dimension invented razors.

Danny

I put on my Groucho Marx Mustache, Nose, and Glasses, expecting to get a big laugh out of all my friends at the World Builders association over on Flying Island during our Evening Hunt. Then I noticed someone had filled the moustache with rancid mustard. I tried to pound it out, but ended up with a fist full of mustard. Dammit! Then it started to pour rain, why am I working outside? If I only had a hammer. Then a Wise Man walked by with his large umbrella, stating, “Hey, I didn’t become a wise man dealing with your silly problems, I’ll keep on walking.”

Norval Joe

Hosmer sat silently on the third row of the chapel as the minister asked, “If there are any here, speak now”. But it was already too late.
Tears rolled off his cheeks and dripped from his wordless lips as his true love said, “I do.”
He’d sneezed and sent his fake mustache flying over the heads of the guests.
It was fake and everyone knew. He had a different one for every occasion. Broad and dashing for romance, thick and bushy for confidence, narrow and black for dominance.
What no one knew, was, without it, he couldn’t speak a word.

TJ

I should’ve expected this sort of thing. I mean, I know my aversion to
long-distance relationships is grounded in legitimate objections. It
encourages idealistic fantasies, glosses over too many realities and in
the end, I’m stuck here so if she can’t move then what’s the
point? That said… OK, case in point. beep Amy, 49, is a medical
transcriptionist. She matched you on 11 of 27 eMusicalChairs.com
criteria – less than half, charming – including breathing carbon
based life form, music, humor, pets, birth order, favorite shade of
green and mustache. I don’t really want them matching me on facial
hair, thanks.

Planet Z

I’ve written a draft of a “Choose Your Own Adventure” book, where you pick how the story progresses based on your choices.

The lead character is a spy who uses a bunch of high-tech disguise mustaches to choose from.

A lockpick mustache.

A laser mustache.

A boomerang mustache.

A mustache that becomes an infalatable raft.

And so on.

The best part about this book is that it’ll come with stick-on mustaches the kid can put on when the character switches mustaches.

It won’t get published, though. They say it discriminates against girls.

I call bullshit. You should see my Grandmother.

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

This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eighty-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 Coffee

And we’ve got stories by:

Thomas
Paladin
Chris Munroe
Tom
Gideon
Abernathy
Jeff
Zackmann
Danny
Norval Joe
TJ
Planet Z

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

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Thomas

The waitress set our coffee down. We both poured the cream and emptied the sugar packets into the hot brew, stirring and banging the spoon on the rim of the heavy, white mug. Ted dropped his spoon into the cup, and it disappeared. He fished around, and couldn’t believe what he saw. He dropped the salt shaker into the cup. Whoosh. It was gone. Then I dropped some coins and more utensils into the cup. Whoosh. Ted dropped in the bottle of Tobasco sauce and the little, sugar packet holder. Whoosh. We were at the home of the bottomless cup.
###

The coffee enema was the low point of our stay at the Golden Globes Spa in West Hollywood. As the attendant gathered the equipment, she joked, and asked if we wanted cream and sugar. My girlfriend chuckled. I didn’t think it was funny, because taking my morning brew in the keester from an old Mexican woman wasn’t appealing. We signed up for aromatherapy, salt glows and the loofah scrub. The attendant left us, perturbed, as I was grumbling through the whole procedure. I didn’t notice the little Mexican flag sticking out of my behind until I got up to dress.

Paladin

It was coffee. Just coffee. Later it might be a dark crowded room and a great silver screen. It might be a long stretch of empty highway and wind blowing our hair back. Perhaps soft murmurs and nervous, anxious, eager exploration. Maybe somewhere private. Maybe somewhere public. The ending may come in mere minutes. Or some hours. Or several years. It could end in this cafe or on my doorstep or hers, or on some porch in some future. But the beginning is here, with coffee. Just coffee.

Chris/Munsi

I’ve had three cups today, and I’ll hit Starbucks on the way to work.

Latte, I think. Venti.

There’ll be a pot waiting when I arrive, and when it’s gone I’ll honestly try to remember to start a fresh one. It’s inconsiderate to drink it all without replacing it for my coworkers.

It’s just hard to remember things sometimes. Gets harder every day.

I hate the taste of coffee, it’s like hot tar in my mouth. But I’ll choke back as much as I can.

Because they come when I sleep, and there’s nothing I can do to stop them.

Tom

We at Black Tie Industries are proud to announce an addition to our beverage line. The power of chocolate, the calming effect of caffeine and the sure pleasure of cocaine the chemists of Caleb Consortiums have chained the best of these along a running chain of CH3s to give you Chocolate flavored Cocaine Coffee. Get twice the stuff you need to get done in half the time. And all with out losing that mild awareness that the collective forces of the universe are conspiring to ruin your life. CHocoCoCo in the 64oz can, have two, or get left in the dust

Gideon

I interviewed for a job with a software company yesterday.
I think I did well on my part of the interview.
At least well enough for Joe, my prospective boss, to start selling me on the company.
He explained the well designed benefits package and gave me a tour of the offices,
At the end of the tour I had one question, “Where are the coffee machines? I did not see one during our tour”.
Joe took me back to the cubicles and pointed, “See?”
Yup, coffee. Delivered via IV tubing to every cubicle.
I’m going to like it here.

Abernathy

Stumbling into the kitchen, Willie greets the coffee pot with sleep crusted eyes. It’s where she keeps the instant coffee now. She doesn’t brew her own java nowadays. She had turned into a lazy person at fifty four. The coffee a symbol of her life now. Instant. She needed the ritual of having a cup or five. She ran the kitchen faucet until it became considerably hot. Scooped out two tall mounds full of the instant and stirred them in her cup. Tossed the spoon into the sink brimming with dirty dishes, Drinking down the the coffee and her failures.

Jeff

I sat quietly, legs folded awkwardly, and focused my mind on the Zen koan.

As much as I tried I could not untangle the meaning hidden within the simple words. I even tried not trying by focusing my mind on the various muscles of my body; using that intensity of concentration to empty my mind in hopes of reaching sunyata.

I complained to my teacher that emptiness would not come and he reminded me that I need to unfocus and concentrate on nothingness. Seeing my frustration he mumbled something about samsara and endless suffering.

I punched him in the throat.

Zackmann

“ Why did you buy that, you don’t even drink coffee?” she said.
He replied “Was it not you who asked me to go to the After Coffee Day Sale? Since they switched to thermos style coffee makers at work they have less coffee makers that I have to worry about being neglected and starting fires. I was amazed at how long the pots kept drinks warm. Of course unlike work we will not need two dozen Thermos coffee pots.”
“Dearest when you put a hot thing it a thermos in stays hot, cold things stays cold, how does it know?”
zackmann

Back in the late seventies the Canadian government spent millions to see if extreme amounts of coffee could give a person superpowers. They chose a child and gave him so much coffee he that he became know as The Encaffeinated One. As you may suspect he did not gain superpowers but he became weird. Well he did not actually became weird as obsessed with weird things and interesting ideas. He also had an urge to share them with the world. The young man first discovered the wonders of radio then podcasting.He now lives at The Weird Show dot Com

Danny

“You’re STIll drinking coffee? AT THIS HOUR!?!? The sheer volume of her question imposed the unreasonable state of mind she whipped herself into. My girlfriend was hell bent on blaming this self-imposed state of mind on yours truly. Unwilling to accept fault for my addiction, I responded curtly, “What!? I’m only on my 4th cup of coffee today. I fail to see what you are getting yourself so worked up about!” In hindsight, at 2:30 in the afternoon, I probably should have responded differently, since I was on the brink of finishing my 4th pot of coffee. Oh well.

Norval Joe

“They’re following us,” Esmerelda Flinch, supposedly of the Women’s Trade Federation said. “We need to throw them off your track.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Fly Paper Boy asked.
“The cops,” She said, “They’re on to you. When we pass through this tunnel, we’ll slow down, you jump out and run down the hill to the cafe and wait for us. It may take some time, and you’ll need to stay on your guard and ready. So buy some coffee and stay alert.”
He jumped when told to, and ran, off a cliff and plummeted toward the jagged rocks below.

TJ

Ellen from Chicago, Tanya in Baltimore, Amber from… Surrey. Oh, just
up the road here… wait. Surrey.. ENGLAND? *dials Hi, eMusicalChairs?
TJ here. I’ve been looking at these suggested matches and I said I
wanted matches within 30 miles of here. “Are you really willing to
overlook the love of your life if she’s more than 30 miles away?”
*slurps coffee I dunno, are you really asking me to define a metric
you’re going to then proceed to completely ignore? “But for optimum
compatability you may need to…” I’ve done the long-distance thing.
Narrow these search parameters please. Thank you.

Planet Z

The best part of waking up isn’t Folger’s in your cup.
There isn’t any best part to waking up, really.
Especially when the ship’s navigation computer thinks we’ve arrived back home and we’re in the middle of deep empty space.
The Cryogenic Bends hurt like a motherfucker, no matter how many green pills you take or algae packs you suck on.
Every move, every thought, even just sitting still is agony.
Try doing four-dimensional astrogation by hand on top of all that.
Worst of all, the only coffee is in the terraforming module, waiting to be planted on Earth Two.

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

This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eighty-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 Mirror

And we’ve got stories by:

Craig T.
Thomas
Tom
Gideon
Jeff
Zackmann
Chris Munroe
Paladin
Steven the Nuclear Man
Norval Joe
TJ
Planet Z

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

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Craig

“Look at you, you asshole. Look how fat you’ve gotten. What a gut. Turn sideways. Holy shit, look at that. You look like a bag of flour with little straw arms. Do some weights. Or go for a run. Or just get your fat ass up off the couch. I bet you’re tired just from standing here. Look, you’re sweating and you’re all flushed. Look at those chins, that wispy beard isn’t fooling anyone. I’m disgusted. No wonder women never talk to you, tubby.“

Andrew turned away from the mirror and the hurtful truths his reflection had said.

Thomas

When Lamont and Beverly checked into the Notell they had every intention of making a long lunch out of their tryst, before going back to work at Walmart. The east wall of the motel room was a mirror. Excitedly, they got right down to business. A few minutes into the fumbling and frantic foreplay, they could hear laughter and catcalls from the room next door. Lamont’s member flagged, and Beverly was too ruffled to continue. The room next door was sold out. The Moose Lodge rented the whole room, set up card chairs and were watching through the one-way glass.
##

Her views mirrored mine. Although I was not a reporter for The Times, Sylvia Knickerbocker’s column echoed my exquisite taste and refined upbringing. Her latest instruction on table settings, the placement of the flatware, the direction of the desert fork, and the position of the water goblet just were sooooo perfect. I referred to her latest column when I hosted a small luncheon for the Lady’s Auxiliary Board. Blythe, Ruth and Babs were impressed, and I’d hope they would stay after the meal and share a few tokes of the hookah before we got to work planning the charity benefit.

Tom

You think you got a sucky job try spending your days pandering to an over hill diva whom demand her vain self reflection needs bolstering by you. No I’m not Paris Hilton’s accounted. I’m Armando De La Sortoes Magic Mirror par excelente. I speak only the truth in an oracle of Delphic way, a sort of cocaine speed mumble. It keeps me from going to pieces. I’m working on a Joaquin Phoenix. How do you like the beard? Nearly slipped the other day screw up the order of: White and Snow. Damn Queen dragged a diamond across my eye. Bitch

Gideon

I loved the amazing work Hayley Mills did in “The Parent Trap”,
especially the scene where she and her ‘twin sister’ pretended they were
posing in front of a mirror. Many weekend afternoons were spent with my
sisters trying to emulate that act, matching poses and facial expressions.
Although it works better when you are twins of the same gender, it was still
fun and a fond memory.

50 years later I have decided to try it again. But I want to do it right.
I need someone as my identical twin, my “Hayley”.

Unfortunately, Haley Barbour is not available.

Jeff

I lean heavily on the bathroom sink, looking into the basin as if searching for answers.

I look up into the mirror and stare into my reflection for a long time. I feel a burning sensation in my eyes that I try to blink away. That is when the tears start to form and flow from my eyes and over my tired cheeks, dripping slowly into the sink below.

How did this happen? I lost my job. I lost my car. I lost my house. I lost my children. I lost my way.

At least I still have my tears.

Zackmann

When I look into the mirror is it really me?
Yesterday I looked and saw a young muscular man with sun bleached hair.
This morning when I shave I see a fat middle aged man with monster eyebrows having some grey eyebrow hairs sticking out at angles to the brown. At least most of my grey is in my whiskers and goes away as I shave. Now to put some rubbing alcohol on my face and grab my phone. Hello maintenance would you please check my electronic mirror. I believe the See Yourself as You Think You Look feature broken.

Munsi/Chris Munroe

I don’t know if I’m the evil twin.

I mean, I don’t feel evil and I have all my memories from before the teleportation accident, so that should make me the original, right?

On the other hand, does anybody self-identify as evil?

And my twin did also claim to be the original. Though now he’s dead. Tell you what, I’ll let you cast the tie-breaking vote.

Sound good to you?

Promise me you won’t scream for help, and I’ll take the gag out of your mouth so you can tell me which one of us you think’s the evil twin…

Paladin

Do you ever look in the mirror and wonder what the other guy is thinking? Probably not, but you probably don’t have a mirror like mine. There’s more to see than just me. At first it was little things, like a towel or a bottle out of place. Then the wall was the wrong color. One day there was a fire. One day there were distant trees shaking, and not from the wind. Every day I’m there looking at myself. I wonder if he looks at me and wonders what I’m thinking.

Steven

He stares at me, tied and gagged in my basement, and I remember.

The first time I heard my father’s voice in my own laugh. The first time I realized I was turning into my dad.

This — thing, clone, son, whatever — is different.

It stole my mannerisms. It’s a distorted mimicry. This thing doesn’t think. It just pretends. It thrusts itself into the nests of our hearts. Like a cuckoo, it shoves everything else aside to fall to the ground. And then it feeds.

The thing isn’t like me. I see the difference. It’s a funhouse reflection.

Bullets shatter mirrors.

Norval Joe

Rudy Giuliani looked in the mirror and didn’t like what he saw. He saw nothing.
“I’ve faded away,” he muttered and tried to think of anything he had accomplished in the last ten years, since the fatefull 911.
Nothing but propaganda and double talk.
“Change is not a destination, just as hope is not a strategy,” and “It’s about time law enforcement got as organized as organized crime”
“Who writes this crap,” he asked himself.
Wanting to do something worthwhile, he did a quick internet search, opened his word processor and began to type, “Lawrence Simon looked in the mirror….

TJ

No, I recognize the eMusicalChairs service is free to look, but I wanted
to get a sense of who else is actually looking before I give you… what
is this, $277 for the first three months? I’ve got to pay
eMusicalChairs the equivalent of like five or six first dates up front
to “meet” people I don’t know even exist. You could’ve hired
profile trolls to create fake profiles that sound too good to be true
until you get my money and then *beep* it’s Svetlana from Warsaw with
profile closeup of wart in mirror and that’s it. Alright… fine.

Planet Z

I asked the priest where the monster was.

He said “In the mirror.”

“When you look at it, or when I look at it?”

“Anyone.”

So, I looked at the mirror, and saw the monster there.

He was furry, blue, and had big round white eyes.

“This isn’t a mirror,” I said. “It’s a painting of Grover the Muppet.”

The priest stepped next to me, looked at the painting, and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“I thought that was me,” said the priest.

He rubbed his big red paws over his fur and left to light some vespers candles.

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

This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eighty-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 Run

And we’ve got stories by:

Thomas
Tom
Chris Munroe
Zackmann
Chris the Nuclear Kid
TJ
Liadona Rau
Norval Joe
Daniel
Planet Z

… and a musical madness constructed by Steven the Nuclear Man!

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

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THOMAS

The run led around the gnarly toe gap, through shin promontory, up ankle tattoo, behind white bulging calf, across knotty knee, and on to smooth thigh and the hidden valley. Hidden valley was closed now, so time passed as the run ceased moving and waited for repairs. Eventually, there was a change, and all runs were at a standstill. The evening came, and another run began at the south side of hidden valley this time. The run zigged and zagged through forbidden territory, and eventually came to a halt near the giant fingers between the valley and bruised knee.

##

It was his second dry run. This time, the solid propellant hadn’t combusted properly, and the burns on his backside hadn’t yet healed. He had not computed the mass flux and pressure of the combustion gases generated as a function of the surface area and burn rate, so Todd sautéed most of the skin on his behind and caused a fire, burning most of the trees and out-buildings on his Uncle Kenny’s farm. He’d try again, and had two more weeks at science camp before he had to get back home to Austin and the first day of middle school.

TOM

I run. The dust is gaining. It’s dark. Which way to the river? I stop hearing the screaming. If I stop I will… I go down hard. Was it pole or the back of a car, I can’t tell. How could it get darker? I get up. I try to run. Moving is harder, breathing is harder. Around my neck my camera holds the Pulitzer Prize image. My sister will accept that prize for me. It is black and I am running. An NYFD officer found me on the 2rd day. He can’t save me but he saves my camera.

CHRIS

You killed her, and didn’t know what to do, so you ran. And you kept running.

You fled town, changed your name and moved halfway across the country, but even then your past was right behind you. You couldn’t stop looking over your shoulder, couldn’t stop running.

It consumed you, became your whole life, your whole self. Running…

Eventually you even ran the Boston marathon. Did yourself proud, you came in fifth overall.

When the TV coverage went out, somebody from your old life recognized you. You were arrested three days later.

Never lose track of what you’re running from.

ZACKMANN

“Did we run the tests on the new product?” the boss asked. “Our new scientist promised no animal testing.” answered Chuck “Is that why I am no longer hearing the protesters?” said the boss. “I am a little worried that he is not a humanist and doesn’t considered the protesters animals but also a not a humanitarian.” Boss says “You sound crazy. Doctor did you do the clinical tests for the new medication?” “yes it was wonderful seeing the allergic rations on those peasants. I mean protesters” “Boss, I so told you not to hire someone calling himself Doctor Despicable ”

CHRIS THE NUCLEAR KID

“Red light!” Tom shouted. I, along with five others, stop. A kid named Joe stumbles. “Joe! Your out!” shouted Tom.

“Aw, shucks!” Joe said. He walked over to the side where the others who lost stood.

“Green light!” Tom shouted. I ran. “Yellow light!” ”Red light!” Tom shouted. I stopped. “Purple light!” Tom shouted. John and Pete ran. “John, Pete… You’re out!” Tom Shouted.

It was just me and Jacob. “Green light!” Tom Shouted. We ran, Jacob taking the lead. But not for long. In a sudden burst of speed I ran past him, Tom, and the finish.

I won.

TJ

OK, so I’ve taken all these surveys asking me for favorite movies,
favorite vacations, favorite shades of green, when is this annoying
Facebook survey going to turn into actual dating? *beep* Emily is
interested in you! Oh she is, is she? Emily is a 34-year-old bartender
who loves to laugh and reads Proust… well, now I’m laughing… Emily
is also into extreme sports, and has been catatonic since a traumatic
bungee incident in 2007. She enjoys watching “Weekend at Bernie’s,” test
patterns, and anything that’s put in front of her. So that would be a
run. Run like the wind.

LIADONA

Heel toe. Heel toe. Heel toe.

The mantra burned itself into her head.

Heel toe. Heel toe.

Over and over as she pushed herself further than she had ever pushed before. This time, however, she wasn’t racing herself or a friend. No, this time she was racing Gaia. Mother was mad and she was letting everyone know.

Heel toe. Heel toe.

“Just focus on the mantra and not where the path leads and maybe, just maybe, I can make Athena’s temple. Sanctuary.” Iona kept running, passing mossy rocks and trees.

Then a flash.

Lightning moves faster than a runner it seems.

NORVAL JOE

The Escalade drove through suburban neighborhoods and into the countryside.
Esmerelda Filch stared at Fly Paper Boy as if she expected him to speak. When he didn’t, she slid over close to him. As she did her skirt hiked up, exposing much of her thighs.
Fly Paper Boy stared, wide eyed.
“Do you find me attractive?” she asked in a husky voice.
“You’re as old as my mother,” he replied.
“Do you love your mother?” she asked and winked.
“Yeah, but not like that,” he exclaimed. He knew he should run, but was afraid to jump from the moving SUV.

DANIEL

“Run.” It licked its lips.

I didn’t hesitate, not that I stood a chance. Why did I think I was ready to summon a demon? Behind me, I could feel the rupture in reality as it pierced my feeble containment circle.

Running through the outer doorway, I felt a surge of hope – my destination was within view. I should’ve known better. Mere seconds from the church door, I slammed into an invisible wall.

Dazed, I looked around to see the fires of Hell on all sides. The demon stood before me. “This is how you create a summoning circle, child.”

PLANET Z

Long ago, sports were “clean” of drugs and implants.

But over time, the line between clean and cheating got blurry.

Those medicines an athlete used for recovering from injury made them faster and stronger.

A pitcher with a robotic arm.

A blind racecar driver with camera eyes.

A Navy punter stepped on a land mine. New Cyberlegs.

They said it was discrimination.

And the courts agreed.

Pretty soon, the performance enhancement manufacturers got into the consumer markets.

Run faster.

Play longer.

Hit harder.

What a bunch of crap.

Besides, I’ve got ballet tickets.

Swan lake, with human-swan hybrids.

Wanna go?

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

This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eighty-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 PICK TWO

Hunger
Minecraft
Lamp
The heart is a lonely hunter
Butter
The End of the World as we know it
Schaefer Beer
Slip
You
And Justice For All…
Dating
Comet

How about voting for your favorites?

[polldaddy poll=5494312]

Or, if the poll is broken, just go to everybody’s site and heap much love upon them (since nobody ever leaves comments here, you know.)

Thomas
Tom
Chris Munroe
Danny
TJ
Zackmann
Daniel
Norval Joe
Planet Z

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

---

THOMAS

Lamont J. Tardbean read the BLOG stating butter was good for nourishing shiny hair. He dressed and headed for the Korean mom and pop market. The Kwans sold individual, quarter-pound sticks for two dollars. He took the cube home, mashed it into a bowl of brown sugar, made some toast points, and spreading his concoction on each piece, watched Laverne and Shirley re-runs until he got up to check his hair. He noticed his mane was shiny, not realizing he had run his butter-ridden hands through his do more than a dozen times in anticipation of his new, suave, coiffure.
##

She gave me the slip. I had always admired her beautiful undergarments, including her collection of stainless steel thongs and rattan brassieres. The slip was woven out of cat fur and yak tail. Deborah had twenty trunks that traveled with her on tours, and fifteen of them held her unmentionables, that we all seemed to talk about and mention all the time. She was classy, and after giving up her vows in the Church of The Gooey Death and Discount House of Worship, her new calling was the Alternative, Deconstructed, Transposed, Texas Cheerleaders – the trendiest girl band in the Southwest.

TOM

The boys down in marketing came up with this, they’re rather proud of it. “It’s the End of the Word as we know it so drink more Schaefer Beer.” COE Walter Lamp glanced out the window at the bright midnight glow of the in-coming comet known as the Lonely Hunter. He slipped out of the butter leather conference chairs to address the board. “I was born with a hunger just as the strong as the next guy, which dates me, but using global annihilation to sell beer smack of minecrafting. You got anything better? Justice for all drink more …

MUNSI

After closing night, the theater didn’t need it.

Seven foot statues of actors are pretty useless once the show’s done, and heavy to boot.

I, on the other hand, always wanted an enormous statue of myself. The opportunity was too good to pass up.

I worried what you guys’d say when I brought it home, but you both loved it. I didn’t realize how much until I returned from work the next day.

You’d turned it’s eyes into lamps.

Now it stares light down upon me from behind the couch as I read.

The best part is: This story’s true.

Danny

Schaefer Beer, the beer you have when your having more than one. Wow, a beer that knows me more than just intimately. It would be the end of the world as we know it if I could not buy case after case of Schaefer Beer. Wait, I live in Florida, you can’t buy Schaefer Beer here. There is no Justice for all if you live in the state of Florida, all constitutional rights just Slip away, thanks Governor Scott, YOU bastard! Dating in Florida is even worse, unless you have a dating convicted Felon fetish. I just want a Schaefer Beer.

TJ

Entering my eMusicalChairs profile… tap tap tap… Pisces…
more of a dog person… Personal philosophy, something
about the heart is a lonely hunter… Things to do on a
first date… yes, yes, yes, yes, and oh, yes please.
Well, now it’s contractual. Photos… hmm… 90 percent of
our clients won’t even look at a profile without photos.
Well, in that it’s a requirement, none of them will. OK,
picture of me, picture of me, picture from the Internet
of “me” winning the Superbowl… done. Complete your profile?
Seeks female. I’m sure I said that already. And… send.
The adventure begins!

ZACKMANN

It is the end of the world as we now it because we both gave up dating since the heart is a
lonely hunter. Both for the love. For me my wife. For Guido his insatiable hunger for Butter . I
see the woman under a lamp selling hot buttered popcorn and smiling at Guido and think maybe
there really is justice for all. She adjusts her slip as Guido tells how a comet full of platinum
fell in his grandparents hay field. They meet after the movie for some toast, Shaefer Beer, and
Minecraft. Guido says “I love you, butter.”

I saw the pick two subject in the weekly challenge and wondered if that exclamation point meant
you should only pick two, exclusively. Not that it would be the end of the world as we know it if I
used more than two prompts. Would I be dating myself if I say I remember when that was a tittle
of a new song? I am sure that mariner guy knows on pick two topics week someone will try to
slip in more than necessary wouldn’t you? Had I any sense I would turn off the lamp and go to
bed.

DANIEL

With the chain-link fence between us, I felt safe enough to study this lone zombie. There was hunger in its eyes, hunger and emptiness.

I watched it for a few moments longer before drawing my revolver. I took careful aim, and snarled under my breath as I pulled the trigger. “Fucking zombies. That comet had to cause Z-Day on the anniversary of 9-11, didn’t it.”

Still, if you had to admit anything good about them, the zombies did bring humanity together. Who cares if you’re a Muslim or Christian so long as you’re still alive? That’s all that matters anymore…

NORVAL JOE

The doorbell rang. Fly Paper Boy jumped up before his sister could.
He opened the door just a crack to see who was there.
“You,” he said to Esmerelda Filch, who stood casually on the porch. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to help you,” she said. “You can wait here, and go back to prison, or come with me.”
He glanced quickly over his shoulder. Nobody was watching and he slipped out the door.
A black Escalade idled at the curb. The passenger door swung open as they approached.
“Good,” Esmerelda purred. “We have some, errands, to run.”

PLANET Z

Franklin Washington was the greatest chef in the world.
He was also completely blind.
Lost his eyes serving in Iraq.
He’d been a good cook before the war. Somehow, he got even better after.
Despite the blindness.
Everything was placed around the kitchen by his assistant just the way he expected it.
Knives, spices, pans, skillets… everything was exactly where he expected it.
Like a well-oiled machine.
Things were going great… until a butter pat fell on the floor.
He slipped on it. Fell on his knife.
Or, so his assistant says.
Not a bad chef himself.
Close the case.

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

This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eighty, 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 Wings

How about voting for your favorites?

[polldaddy poll=5476170]

Or, if the poll is broken, just go to everybody’s site and heap much love upon them (since nobody ever leaves comments here, you know.)

Thomas
Tom
Chris Munroe
Guard 13007
Zackmann
Liadona
Gwenette
Gabriel Tambunga
Danny
TJ
Norval Joe
Planet Z

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

---

Thomas

A 225 pound pigeon. He tested his wings, flying low over town, with messages written on his naked belly with a felt-tip marker. He had put together the flying suit in his garage, cobbled together from spare bicycle parts, synthetic fabric, and a few gears out of the grandfather clock in the hallway.

Swooping lower on his second pass, he skimmed the feather on the mayor’s hat as she stood , arguing for a rate increase in city services.

Diving lower, Laurence let the major know what he thought of her and her plans, and he left his mark.

On a Friday in 1964, Dominic was tending bar at Uncle Kenny’ s in Buffalo, NY. Late that evening, after a bout of heavy and irresponsible drinking, a group of Dominic’s friends arrived at the tavern with ravenous appetites. Dominic asked his Aunt Angie to prepare something for his friends to eat. Using a part of the chicken that usually went into the stock pot for soup or to the family Doberman, Angie deep fried the wings and flavored them with her secret sauce. The sauce, sprinkled liberally with his ashes, was stored in the cloakroom, under Uncle Kenny’s photograph.

Tom

Timmy tested his wings

Up Down Sideways

All in working order.

Dead 20 minute and he was zooming around

with even the higher order celestial beings.

“I’m an Angle!” cried Timmy

“Well, not really,” said Ralph

“Angles are a specific race of beings.”

“Humans can’t be Angles.”

“But I got wings,” said Timmy

“Mighty nice pair,” said Michael

“Want to race?” Off they flew

“See, I am an Angle!”

“Good point Timmy, hows bout

I make you an honorary Angle?”

He pinned tiny gold wings on Timmy’s white gown

“See that guy down there?”

“Go give him a hand.”

Wooooooshhhh.

Munsi

It’s the wonder of shiftwork, you never know what schedule to expect.

I worked Tuesday to Sunday one week, Monday to Saturday the next. Since I got a day off each week, they didn’t have to pay overtime. See? Brilliant planning on their part.

Now every part of my body aches. But I try not to be bitter. I’m finished now. And I won’t be doing squat with my day off.

I’ll be downtown, headphones on, exploring a city I love and listening to classic rock.

Paul McCartney.

Band on the Run.

I won’t be coming home ‘til I’m relaxed.

Guard13007

What is the thing? We don’t know, but we assume you do. The thing is red, it is large, it is attacking a child over there, and it is shaped vaguely like a radiometric device from the Netherlands from the lab of the mad scientist called George the Crankpost.

We wonder what a crankpost is, but we don’t know that either. We shoved two words together to make another word. The point is to make this officially stupid document filled with exactly hundred words. Because, we don’t know the topic.

We don’t think this counts as a story, do you?

Zackmann

Tom convinced me to spend two weeks in a holiday camp off the grid. We were dropped off
by helicopter on a mesa. No Internet. No phone. There were crafts and books even a stage. I
never expected the effect it had on Tom. I will always remember Tom’s last words to me before
jumping off the cliff “You don’t need wings to fly.” I tried my best to distract him before he hit the
ground but alas The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy is no flight manual. I wish Tom had taken
up archery because he didn’t miss.

Liadona

She took to the stage as she was wont to do. Act II, scene I – a wood near Athens. Over and over. Night after night. Stuck in the same skimpy costume where only the wings were substantial. And the same words were uttered over and over in total disgust.

“Over hill, over dale,

Through bush, through brier,

Over park, over pale.

Through flood, through fire,

I do wander everywhere.”

The lines tripped lightly on her tongue, each word sliding off as if were a jewel that dripped between her teeth onto the forest floor. She must remember to pick those up before she left, escaped was more lie it.

And yet, each word was so precious. If only she could spread her wings and truly fly away from this place. Not just hold onto the wire that helped her to fly. One more night of this and she might sprout her freedom in other ways.

“Pass the pins, please.” The please was new. It wasn’t often that Octavia, a noted expert in her field, asked for anything politely. But I’m not sure if this was improvement or guilt.

Octavia’s designs had gotten us this far. We were in the final Games! The final Interview stage and then onto the island, that wasn’t really an island at all of course. It was one of the largest production sets I had ever seen.

I smiled. “Things are going to be fine, Octavia. Come on – this is Television! What could go wrong?”

Octavia sighed as she put the last pin on my beautiful wings, now fastened to my shoulders as long as the flimsy silk that now enshrouded me didn’t tear. Once finished, she stopped, grabbed my hand and held my eyes. “I’m sorry,” she muttered so softly I almost didn’t hear it before she turned away.

Leaving me on display like a proper butterfly.

Pinned down.

GwynetteWriter

“Fly away with me.” Your eyes shiny with tears, your broken wing dragging across the sands, you walked into the waves, beginning to float. I hovered, flying above you. We breathed in; we breathed out, finding our rhythm. The suns were setting. Stars clustered moon five . . . we breathed in perfect harmony. We sang the soft lullaby of our love’s history and our children came to our calling. Their wings brushed yours, softly caressing your chest. Far out to sea your eyes closed. Warm waters covered you and we dove with you to our sandy graves.

Gabriel

She watches patiently for what she desires.

She hopes they get along, because sometimes they don’t, but it doesn’t matter, when it comes time they work together anyway. One by one they gather, sometimes a disagreement, and despite their different colors and sizes they grab those in front, behind and to their sides. They hold each other as strong as they would hang on a tree, and now in the beautiful shape of her desire. She approaches to feel the wonderful embrace and softness and tiny winds of the little fluttering wings.
Flap, flap, her shadow on the ground below.

Danny

Professor Fredrick Finklestein stood at the edge of the cliff, clutching his latest invention. “Damn the Airlines,” he screamed, staring across the canyon. “I’ll never have to endure airport security again!” The Professor strapped on his mechanical wings, flapped them a few times, then took the plunge into the abyss. He plummeted halfway down the canyon, when much to the Professor’s surprise, the wings actually worked! “This is incredible!” he screamed. Finkestein put on his oxygen mask as the altitude increased, 5000 feet, 10000 feet, 20000 feet! “Look at me, I’m a bird!” the Professor screamed, only to be splattered by a passing 747.

TJ

The guinea pig switchout clinched it. The boy had excellent instincts.
Espionage, subterfuge, cryptography, collateralizing assets by extorting
that gym teacher, intervention for the public good by running that
homegrown virus to earth and neutralizing the hacker, the senator was
officially impressed. These were skills that could be honed. No, the CIA
wasn’t necessarily interested in 16-year-olds – even talented
16-year-olds – as operatives. But as Senate Intelligence Committee
chair Sen. Clark reviewed the reports assembled in front of him, this
Martin Winger stood out to him as a decided person of interest. And with
that, his senate internship application was approved.

Norval Joe

Fly Paper Boy slumped forward, staring into his mashed potatos, looking for answers.
His head snapped up when is sister said, “I think Fly Paper Boy is lame. He doesn’t have wings or a cape or anything.”
“Why bring that up?” He asked her.
“I heard the police are looking for Fly Paper Boy. They say he burned down a house.”
“You can’t believe everything you hear, Jenny,” their mother said, though her voice was clipped and hard.
“Mr. Dinkman was the one who told me,” Jenny said. “He had his uniform on and was looking through Jimmy’s car windows.”

Planet Z

The art classroom at Walnut Springs Middle School was full of flies.

We’d catch them and do all sorts of horrible things to them.

“If you take the wings off of a fly, is it a hop?” asked one kid.

I don’t remember his name, but he was the expert in our group of Middle School Mengeles.

He had a whole workshop bag of tools. Jeweler’s mount and magnifying glass. Tweezers and scissors to work monstrous modifications on the flies.

For Christmas, he tried to make a tiny Santa sleigh.

Instead, he got suspended and transferred to a special school.

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

This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Seventy-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 Shrink

How about voting for your favorites?

[polldaddy poll=5458690]

Or, if the poll is broken, just go to everybody’s site and heap much love upon them (since nobody ever leaves comments here, you know.)

Tom
Derry
Thomas
Chris Munroe
Gideon
Zackmann
Gabriel Tambunga
Xerxes
TJ
Danny
Norval Joe
Liadona
Planet Z

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

---

Tom

“Vi dost you hate your mootar?”

“I don’t”

“Mr. Marquette how are V to make progress vhen you are resistant to the process?”

“Look you Viennese Pin Head

Psychotherapy is a crock

and you have the empathy of Sand Flea.”

“Good Good. Vi do you hate sand fleas?”

Tom rolled his eyes.

“Let me make this real real simple.

My cat died I’m grieving.”

“Oh you do da on the ledge of 40 story building

….vell our hour is up. See you next week?”

Sure. Fine. Whatever.

The shrink handed Tom a bill for $250

And complementary tab of Thorazine

Derry

Half a bowl of guacamole. Lovely, green, smooth and spicy. How can I leave it there? Should I eat the rest? Should I toss? If I keep it, how to keep it fresh? I will cover it with plastic wrap! I pull out a bit from the roll, and it gets all tangled. I pull out another bit, and it grabs the first and merges with the first. I pull out more wrap and suddenly it grabs me in its grip and tightens and shrinks until I am in the bowl with the guac. I am one with the guac.

Thomas

He awoke and realized he was trapped at the bottom of one of his woolen socks. He had shrunk to the size of a button on his pajamas. He worked his way out of the sock and managed to get to the edge of the bed. He was too far off the floor to jump, but he slid down one of the sheets to the floor. His wife was calling, and she couldn’t hear his tiny voice answering. She came into the bedroom with his coffee and, frightened, stepped on the gruesome, pink bug on the floor near the bed.

He would never shrink from duty. When he was six, he’d stand at attention for hours, and he knew the Code of Conduct by heart at seven. His military bearing was excellent, and he could field strip an M-16 in seconds. He joined the Army on his 18th birthday and as a gung-ho volunteer, went to war as a foot soldier right after boot camp. The military transport landed in Germany on the first leg of the journey, and when he stepped out of the plane, he tripped on the stairs and tumbled to the tarmac and to his death.

Chris

I’m having panic attacks again.

I can’t seem to shake the notion I’m becoming… smaller?

If that makes any sense.

I know, I know, of course I’m not. It’s just anxiety and the feeling I’m not properly respected in my work and home life. But in spite of that understanding I can’t shake the feeling that as more and more of my decisions are taken out of my control I’m actually… shrinking.

It’s crazy, isn’t it Doctor?

Doctor?

Can you even hear me?

No?

No, I suppose you wouldn’t be able to hear me, from all the way up there…

Gideon

My weekly therapy sessions had not been going well.

The couch doctor seemed to concentrate on my problems but could not condense her thoughts to something I could understand.

“Listen Doc, we have a contract. I come here to drop off and decrease my problems. I leave feeling deflated, diminished, weakened. You aren’t helping!”

She said “I understand. You feel constricted, smaller, wasted away”.

“Doc, aren’t you listening? I feel that way after I leave; shriveled, dwindled. Reduce your verbiage, narrow your focus. Help me!”.

“I’m afraid I need to shorten our time today. See you next week”.

——————————–

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, so we designed our application to use pictures.

Every action requires the user to click on a picture.

Want to open something? Click on the picture of the closed door.

Want to close something? Click on the picture of the open door.

Want to edit something? Click on the picture of grizzled editor from the Times.

It was a great application. It was adopted quickly by users. The test users said it was a very effective paradigm.

Then they said the application was too big, shrink it. So we used thumbnails.

Zackmann

“I brought the midget some plouts” said Zack.
“It’s my midget not your midget “said Lawrence stomping the ground.
“Of course it is, I have a Toyota”.
“Not my MG sports car, “said Lawrence”, my wonderful narrator, whom I lovingly care for in my
basement in his cage.”
Isn’t that illegal? asked Zack.
“Actually, “replied Lawrence”, it is a legal requirement. Remember the bite scene in Rise of The
Planet of the Apes? Like that only with the midget.
The midget was a Giant until he tried Doc Coleman’s Shrinking Man Formula. Although he is not
thinner he did shrink ”

Gabriel

Steam, cool, steam, cool, endless hours of working but the
reason to continue is important. Pulling
in and out of the steam, and so it shrinks to the familiar size of what it is
intended. Sometimes a wonder of who this
may be but is unimportant of what this is to cause. The cause is the less pain of the missing. Fresh and new this must continue to deceive
those who caused the pain, as what can be so affecting than a susceptible
familiar.

Approach but then flutter back, as they care not to be the
next heads on spears.

Xerxes

When I was a kid I’d spend hours out in the tall grass chasing grasshoppers. When I caught one, I’d hold it carefully, and examine it closely.

I was amazed at the intricacy of the hooked barbs on its legs and feet which enabled it to catch and hold on to slender blades of grass as it jumped hither and yon through the field.

Usually the creature would move its mouth parts, creating a nasty looking brown liquid that we called “chewing tobacco.”

Then I’d crush it.

I didn’t want it to suffer and die from mouth cancer like grandpa.

TJ

With little more to go on than a photo of the missing guinea pig, Martin
swept Tina’s room for clues. He opened her laptop, found her
cheerleading video blog and tracked some activity from rival North Shore
addresses. The creature could just be hiding in the house, but… that
cage was visible in her blog. Martin was no shrink, but he wondered if
Jellybean had been targeted by rival cheerleaders hoping to mess with
Tina’s head before playoffs. Either way, his choice was clear. He
headed to the pet store and – based on the photo – purchased a new
guinea pig.

Danny

I walked into my psychiatrist’s office, Dr. Zeinburg is already glaring at me. I nervously stated, “Look, I didn’t mean to call you a shrink.” “Stop wasting my time and sit down, Mr. Clifton! ” he screamed back. I sat down and started to talk. “Honestly, Doc, I feel like I’m Jewish, except I’m neither rich nor successful, you know, like you.” I started to shrink further into my chair as Zeinburg’s glare intensified. I continued, “O.K., I’m sorry, I know that sounded racist. Honestly, if my Jewish friend’s heard me say that, they would literally nail me to a cross.”

Norval Joe

Fly Paper Boy lay on the couch and looked at the voluptuous blonde sitting at her desk, and asked, “So you’re a shrink?”
“Doctor of psychology, actually,” she said, “but you can call me Donna.”
“Our mutual friend said you might like to talk with me,” her voice was a calming purr. “We can talk about anything you like.”
“Ok. So you’re a doctor,” he said with hesitation. “Well, then, there is something I would like to know. I’m sixteen, and, you know, A boy, and, you know…”
Then he blurted out in frustration, “when will my voice finally change?”

Liadona

Even as she stood at the edge of the pier waiting for the water, she know this was insane. It was larger than they had ever seen before. Not even crazy news presenters who thrilled at flying in the wind were finding shelter anywhere they could.

But Bella stood at the end of the pier with baited breath for her first brush with the storm. It would be a kiss to remember.

Then storm came roaring past. Bella shrank from the damage Irene brought with her. No kiss, all she would remember was that she shrunk.

Sadly, Bella gathered her equipment and her soaked team. “Let’s go figure out how how to shut her down.”

That would serve Irene right for making Bella so small.

Planet Z

During his morning appointments, Dr. Feingold found himself sinking deeper and deeper into his chair.

At first, he thought it was just a problem with the padding, and he needed a new chair.

It was when his shoes were too big for his feet that he realized that it was because he was shrinking.

He barely made it home before his feet couldn’t reach the pedals of his car, and he had to reach up to turn the knob on the front door.

Flopping around in his clothes, he yelled for help.

The cat came down the stairs, and hissed.

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

This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Seventy-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 Wild

How about voting for your favorites?

[polldaddy poll=5441200]

Or, if the poll is broken, just go to everybody’s site and heap much love upon them (since nobody ever leaves comments here, you know.)

Almo
Thomas
Xerxes
Liadona
Zackmann
Krazie Kitten
Tom
Justin
Steven the Nuclear Man
Norval Joe
Fricker/Terrazabyte
TJ
Planet Z

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

---

Almo

Arnett stood in front of the Harlan County Junior College Bearcats moments before kickoff. It was Arnett’s first football coaching job and he wanted to make sure his players were fired up when they took the field.

“I want you to be ferocious!” he screamed.

“Ferocious!” they replied.

“I want you to be unstoppable!”

“Unstoppable!”

“I want you to be …,” Arnett paused, “wild!”

“Wild!!!!”

On the opening kickoff, the Bearcats’ strongest athlete sprinted downfield, stuck his arm out and took the head clean off an opponent.

“Next time we stick with ferocious and unstoppable,” Arnett whispered to his assistant coach

Xerxes

Gabe looked down at the paper, “the postal service wants to cut 120,000 workers through layoff and another 100,000 workers through attrition?”

“Yep,” came the somber, yet awe inspiring and rumbling reply.

“So… what does this mean for me?” asked Gabe, looking up and raising one bushy eyebrow slightly.

“It’s actually pretty wild. You are no longer required to relay messages to the prophets, step down as the chief of the four favored angels, and finally, you lose the titles of patron saint of postal workers and spirit of truth.”

Gabriel wondered to himself what the unemployment benefits were like.

Thomas

Wild

The county abatement officer posted little, red banners all over my front yard. The markers were plastic flags taped to wire stakes. He pushed a hundred of them into the soil in the front yard. I planted my yard to save water by using ”indigenous plants”. The officer’s job was to mark noxious weeds for the control team to dig up or spray. Not knowing a weed from a wildflower; my yard was overgrown with nutsedge, skeletonweed, sowthistle, spurge, knapweed, gorse, toadflax, puncturevine and purple loosestrife. The plants were healthy and had grown to the height of my roofline.

Wild

She was wild. Untamed. A golden-haired beauty from a big country family. When I saw her with her brothers and sisters, I knew she was the one I wanted. Her father was nowhere to be seen. I left because I had to ponder things. I went back to her house in a few days and spoke to her family. We made arrangements so I was able to take her with me that day. Money changed hands. It was legal in the area. No questions were asked. It was a big litter, and Molly was the fattest of them all.

Liadona

The western wind blew; harsh, hot and dusty. It hadn’t stopped in a week. Isra tied her hair back, adjusting her goggles hoping to block some of the sand blowing strong. Something was terribly wrong.

She’d walked from home for months after the accident. That’s what they called it on the radio before that went dead. North seemed right, away from the desert that once was lush and green along the Mississippi.

But here, at what should’ve been Canada, a wild jungle from South America. The compass pointed North. Was that wrong too? Or was the world turned upside down?

Zackmann

Zackmann’s body was found Friday morning half eaten by what is believed to be a wild animal.
Friends became suspicious when he was not in the BearCrawling Stickam chat room Thursday
night. Mountain Lions had been seen in the area his body was found. The Contra Costa
Sheriff believes his demise was in no way related to his involvement with in an investigation
of something called the Nocturnals. A memorial service will be help at Borderlands Books San
Francisco with the Wrong Reverend Charles McBearCrawling presiding, also broadcast live on
Stickam Thursday 6:30 PM Pacific Time.

To quote Mark Twain and east European politicians, Rumors of my death have been greatly
exaggerated. I was in the wilds of Oregon visiting Crater Lake National Park. Which is more just
cool than wild but don’t tell the animals living in the park. The GPS thought driving through Reno
to get from California to Southern Oregon was a good idea so I did spend an extra three hours
seeing nature which is more trees. There is nothing more fun than putting two teens in a car
forcing them to go places you and mom think are really great.

Krazie Kitten

Caged.
Entrapped.
She had never imagined that it would end up like this. She hardly sleeps, spending each dark night endlessly pacing her cage. Her eyes gaze upon freedom, close enough to nearly taste it. She can barely remember life without these barriers and restrictions. She longs to indulge in her true nature. Desperate to have a life like the one she has lost. The once bright fire in her eyes glows dimmer, diminishing more with each day spent locked in captivity.
Will she ever be free to live again?
She knows only one thing for certain.
She is wild.

Tom

In the wild hairless apes, Homo sapiens, live on average 17 years. In domestic captivity this number increases four fold. The mating practices of Humans are a wonder. While discriminative in their Monogamy they are indiscriminative in their infidelity. The Institute has gone out of its way to create a natural setting for humans to mate, but our best efforts have proven less than successful. Thankfully Drowl Pardash found an ancient Earth reference to an object called a Buick. While the Buick limits the visibility of the actual mating, it’s a small price to pay for a rise in frequency.

Justin

I’m on my way to the market when a triceratops runs by me, almost knocking me over. I almost shout, but two more of his buddies are coming up, and I don’t want them to triple-gore me with their horns. A guy with a tall Mohawk walks by with a silent boom box, and the mime who’s putting on a show gets into an argument with him. I have to walk between two warring tribes of children having a rigatoni fight. Next time I go to the store, I’m not going to walk on the wild side of the street.

Steven the Nuclear Man

(This is the link Steven thinks I’m going to forget this week. Heh.)

I take her hair in my hand and pull back. It’s a rough mess of untamed curls, as wild as she is. “You’ve been a bad girl.”

She moans, presses her hips against me. “Very bad, sir. You should spank me.”

I can’t help it. I chuckle and let go. “A spanking! A spanking! Bad Zoot!”

She stands up, straightens our band shirt over her chest. “What the hell?”

“Sorry. I’m just not into S&M.”

She storms out, shoving past the bassist.

His eyebrow raises. “Lose another groupie?”

I shrug. “What’s the lead singer of Satan’s Soldiers to do?”

Norval Joe

Fly paper boy rolled from his bed and stumbled to the desk. Cold sweat trickled down his bare back as he leaned over the keyboard.
“What can I do,” he grumbled. “Someone knew I was at that house for the money. Now they’re framing me.”
Then it came to him There was a kid on the chess team in Junior High that could work out almost any conundrum.
“It’s a wild goose chase, but I’ll search facebook” he said “I think he moved to Minnesota.”
“OK, state, Minnesota, NO! North Dakota. name, Martin,,,,,,,,, Oh Crap. What was his last name?”

Fricker/Terrazabyte

Our planet Earth supports 6.7 billion human lives, each one unique and completely different.

Our Sun is one of an estimated 200 to 400 billion other stars in our galaxy, each one unique and completely different.

Our Milky Way galaxy is merely one of the estimated 500 billion galaxies in our universe, each one unique and completely different.

When trying to comprehend this wild and astronomical vision of the world around us, remember that from the universe down to the world we may be seen as one person, but to one person out there we may be their world.

TJ

He heard her before anything else, an agitated commotion among the
hubbub in the hallway between classes. Tina burst wild-eyed into
Martin’s field of vision, “Martin… Martin…” she wheezed. She
was in her cheerleading uniform and if her sweater had been any tighter
it would be a tattoo. “Sarah said… you could help me…”
“What’s the problem,” he asked. “It’s Jellybean. My guinea
pig!” she cried. “She’s gone missing.” Martin thought he was a
spy, not a detective, but he saw an opportunity to further expand his
skill set. Handing her a tissue, Martin accepted her case with a
handshake.

Planet Z

The Animal Liberation Squad roamed the corridors of the bioengineering lab, hoping to rescue subjects and release them into the wild.

The gates had been unguarded, doors unlocked, and alarms were off.

“Something’s wrong,” said Sparky. He sat down and scratched his ear with his back foot.

“Do you think?” said Fluffy.

Lucky chewed his squeaky bone, which squeaking loudly.

Sparky had told him to leave it at home, but Lucky loved his squeaky bone.

“We’re just chasing our tails,” said Fluffy. “Let’s go home.”

So, they did.

Marking clipboards, their owners said “Good doggies!” and gave them some treats.

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

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

The topic this week was Radio

How about voting for your favorites?

[polldaddy poll=5413759]

Tom
Gideon
Thomas
Daniel
Danny
Steve
TerrazaByte
Norval Joe
TJ
Justin
Justin
Planet Z

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

---

Tom

It was 1963 the president was dead, but it was the ramp-up to the
Christmas frenzy and all my thoughts were locked onto a 13 transistor six
diode Japanese work of wonder. It was jet black and ivory white with a
large transparent disk in the center engraved with frequency numbers.

Like Jean Shepherd’s Ralphy I had to wage a serious Christmas campaign to
get my transistor radio. There was the argument over hearing loss. The
argument over the corruption effect of rock and roll. Finally I cut a
deal to tune in to Bishop Fullton Sheen’s Sunday radio program

Gideon

I was listening to the radio this morning and heard an intriguing song.

The lyrics told the story of a man whose wife had turned her focus inward.

He started exploring and fell in love with someone else.

He left his wife.

His wife refocused on him and started stalking him.

This presented a conundrum for him – return to the renewed focus of his wife or stay with the focus of his new lover.

I never heard the outcome.

It was a country song and, in my mind, I kept hearing a tune about roadkill, so I turned it off.

Thomas P.

The radio plays all night. I wake often to a loud commercial, so I throw a towel or a pillow over the speaker to muffle it. Last night, I dropped my pillow on the radio and I heard a gasp. I couldn’t make out the words,
so I moved the pillow and heard a voice say: “You’ve got some gall! That’s not polite, and it’s quite unnerving. Don’t do that again. Just turn the radio down. No more tricks.” The rest of the night I lay awake
for hours wondering if I really heard what I thought I had.

———

The radio stood up straight next to the typewriter and proclaimed it had something to say, and that I had better put down what I was doing and pay attention.
“You have ignored me a long time, and I want you to know that you have missed a lot of good radio. You’ve missed Art Bell late at night, The Ron and Don Show,
George Noory on Coast to Coast, and the John Curley shows. If you want your mind to expand and keep it from turning into silly putty, turn off that damn TV, and turn me on.

Daniel

When the aliens finally made contact, it was because of a chance scan of our planet that revealed sentient life, which surprised them. They berated us for not trying to make contact ourselves. “Didn’t you have an interest in what’s beyond your own solar system?”

This outraged the scientific community. “We’ve been sending radio signals into space for decades! How could you not know we were here?”

The leader of the aliens’ diplomatic envoy was bewildered by this. “That’s weird. Let me check something… Huh. It seems your transmissions were being blocked by our spam filter. Go figure.”

Danny

Everything I ever had to know, I heard it on the Radio. We watch the shows, we watch the stars, on videos, for hours and hours. We hardly need to use our ears, how music changes throughout the years. Then pictures came, they broke my heart. Don’t care if Video Killed the Radio Star. Just turn it up, the Radio! I need the music, gimme some more! Cause all we hear is Radio Goo Goo, Radio Ga Ga! Let’s hope you never leave, my old friend. You had your time, you had the power, you’ve yet to have, your finest hour. Radio.

Steve

OUT radiating OUT reaching OUT grabbing mind and heart,

FORCING you to think and smile and wonder and laugh

You bob your head, body bouncing, MY MUSIC controls your motions

Your Emotions, too, are glued to me as I unveil you to yourself

You listen, riveted as you pray, you play, you do as I say

I inveigle multidimensionally – mind, will, and emotions stirred, shaken, broken and mended

At the SPEED OF LIGHT, delight runs ‘round the world

I am, AM, FM, longwave, shortwave, WiFi, satellite, STREAMING

Beaming into your world, forever entwined, your life and mine

I am Radio

Vince/TerrazaByte

Dr. Herman Hineschnickel has the world most exciting job. He’s in charge of the land based radio telescope for the SETI Institute, the Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence. His work day begins like most other jobs in America, with a cup of coffee and a quick review of the TPS reports.

But that all changes once he begins listing for evidence of life in the universe. With headphones on and keen eye on the frequency meter, he initiates this most exciting work. Hour 1 passes, nothing happens. Hours 2 & 3 go by, nothing happens. Hour 10, still nothing. Hours 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18…

NorvalJoe

Fly Paper Boy’s eyes shot open. The clock radio beside the bed blared a tire store commercial. He slapped the off button and the sound decreased a hundred decibels to a reasonable level.
“Five o’clock,” he moaned, “I just got to sleep. Jenny.”
He thought sleepily how his conniving sister messed with his alarm before.
The broadcast broke through his hazy thoughts and he was wide awake again.
” The home of Beaulla Larmpitt, Vinyl Man’s last murder victim, burned to the ground this morning. Police are looking for a white Toyota Corolla seen in the area only hours before…”

TJ

Martin’s father, Henry, was reading the business/metro section as
Martin sidled up behind him.

“So… I found the radio.”

Earlier, Martin had discovered an ancient shortwave radio in his
father’s workbench.

After several rounds of bluster, arguments and recriminations, Martin
could piece together what was behind his father’s nightly beeline for
the basement. Something about ongoing projects, corporate espionage,
dispatches to Japan– shortwave transmissions not leaving a data trail
the company could or would be tracking. The ethics bothered Martin, but
on some level he was relieved.

Later, chatting with his mistress, Henry appreciated his son’s
tendency to overthink everything.

Justin

While I love the experience of trying out a new phone; learning the menus and finding the latest apps, the reason for the new phone is annoying. I really liked the one I had before. It had adapted to me very well, and I’d gotten used to the nuances of the controls, it had my most used contacts memorized. Normally most of that is transferable, but not this time. I got a bad ear infection and the medicine killed the phone cells. My replacement plan allows for me to culture the latest generation in my ear canal, so I’m set.

Steven the Nuclear Man

Just the crackle-hiss-pop of solar radiation imitating breakfast cereal. Listening is dangerous – they might detect my radio, but I’ll risk one set.

A brief whistlescream from the speaker: the electromagnetic death whine of an orbital station. Damn aliens. They gated to the surface instead of coming through low earth orbit, but they’re making up for lost time.

The speaker comes fully alive. Some fool’s broadcasting the national anthem.

I listen, and turn on every radio in the place. I salute, wondering if they’ll vaporize me or the broadcaster first.

And I no longer care.

Planet Z

Funding for SETI projects was been drastically cut across the board.

So, we needed to take a new approach to survive.

It was on my drive through New York, listening to Howard Stern, that I got my idea…

That’s right. I am the world’s first shock-jock radio telescope disk jockey.

Me and my crew, The Morning Xenobiological Collection, fill the spectrum with interviews with topless interns, prank very long distance calls to quasars… all kinds of filth.

Our strategy is keeping us funded and searching, sure, but it comes at the cost of any intelligent life down here on Earth.

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

This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Seventy-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 Falling

How about voting for your favorites?

[polldaddy poll=5364299]

Thomas
Gideon
Zackmann
Laina Ash
Tom
Daniel
Danny
Norval Joe
Justin
TJ
Planet Z

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

---

Thomas

The temperature kept falling. I brought the dogs in, fed the iron stove, and sat in the big chair, pulling two woolen blankets over me. I thought of the pony and llamas in the barn. They must be freezing. I cleared furniture out of the way, and brought them indoors. Pretty soon, I had the chickens inside, along with the turkeys, two cats, and the boar. It was crowded and smelly, so I stepped outside for moment and the door clicked fast behind me. I could see them through the window, snorting and huffing and helping themselves to the pantry.

Gideon

Without thinking I replied “I adore you, I love you, I cherish you and I am slowly falling in love with you”.

She laughed, “I don’t think you are the type to ‘fall in love'”.

I thought a second.

“I think you are right – I don’t fall in love but I have been in love and I am slowly becoming in love”.

She asked “What’s the difference between falling and becoming?”

“Falling happens quickly – becoming happens slowly”.

A lightbulb appeared.

“Maybe it should be ‘I am slowly realizing that I am in love with you'”.

———————–

We have a new activity here at the nursing home, my new employer.
Joe has been retained to help reduce the recent increase in resident injuries.
His firm, Safety First, is considered the premier injury reduction firm in the area.
The class is called ‘Falling, Gracefully’, which teaches how to fall without injury, using many techniques taught to those studying judo.
The residents seem to enjoy the class but there does not seem to be a reduction in injuries.
One day they will find the correlation between my hire date, the rise in injuries and my joy in tripping people.

Zackmann

Jim was visiting a garden at the top of a skyscraper when a coconut feel out of a tree hitting Jim
on the head knocking him off the edge of the roof.
Jim took out his cell phone calling 911 saying “Help me! Im falling”
“Yes Mr Ling could you tell me how we can help you?”
“Im Not Pho Ling. Im falling as in plummeting off Simon Tower.”
Jim wishes the on hold song was not Lemon Demons Ive got Some falling to Do.
Landing in the back of a manure truck, Jim decides it unwise to speak further.

Laina Ash

No one ever wants to talks about falling into strange things. Like my co-worker Bill, one day he had the pure look of bewilderment so being nice (even though he steals my awesome creamer,) I asked what was wrong. Stuttering he answered, “I went to take a dip in my pool yesterday but I notice it didn’t look right. So in the process of a closer look I tripped and landed in my pool, but instead of water it was filled with tapioca pudding. It seems Bill Cosby finally snapped and went

Tom

Moriarty thought THIS IS the best the Master of Deduction can do! Pitched
off Reichenbach Falls to a certain rather indecorous death and he states
the absurdly overobvious. To Moriarty’s scrawl Holmes wryly smiles, grabs
the professor’s lapels, drives both hands against his chest, sends the
professor flying outward from the falls. In an equal opposite reaction
Holmes is driven deep within the waters. “Up impossible, down improbable,
out less then beneficial deduction states when all possibilities are
eliminated the only possibility was indeed: IN,” mused Holmes perched on
his rock ledge counting the seconds to Moriaty’s demise

Daniel

I’ve been falling for hours. Why haven’t I reached the bottom yet?

I remember climbing the mountain. A rumbling interrupted our attempt to make camp for the night. It was an avalanche. I ran, but found myself at the edge of a cliff. Desperately, I jumped.

I must’ve died. That’s the only explanation. Why else would I still be falling? This is hell…

The sun rises, and I can see land to my side. It takes me a moment to realize that what I’m seeing isn’t a cliff face, but the ground.

I haven’t been falling at all; I’m flying!

Danny

I woke up, should be a good thing, but I live on the 110 floor of the Empire State Building (truth be told, I squat there, need another 100 words to explain). Anyway, I step out of bed, now I’m falling rapidly towards 34th street. Moments from impact, I’m caught by none other than Mila Kunis! I look at her and scream “Oh my god, I love you as Meg on Family Guy!” Mila screams back at me, “How come nobody in Hollywood takes me seriously as a comedian!” I calmly reply, “Maybe it would help if you put some pants on.”

Norval Joe

“No way he’s falling for this,” Fly Paper Boy thought. He slouched down in his seat and faked asleep. It was 2am, he was out on bail, and parked in front of Vinyl Man’s late mother-in-law’s house.
“Jimmy Thompson,” the officer said, “Haven’t seen you in years. What are you doing so far from home?”
“Oh. Mr., I mean, Officer Dinkman,” the boy said. “I stayed too late at a friends, and got sleepy driving. I’m better now.”
“Tell your parents hello,” Dinkman said as Fly Paper Boy drove away from the house where $1,000,000 lay buried under the porch.

Justin

The Carnival of Esoteric Wonders came into town, and Harold walked to the spectacle, fully reliant on his cane. He knew the time of his long, contented life was nearly up, but he’d never been to a magic show before, so he went to see Chroniac the Amazer. When Chroniac asked for a volunteer, Harold raised his hand, and was chosen. Harold got into the black box, and felt the sensation of falling. When it opened, he was a teenager. He tossed the cane away and cried out ‘Dadgummit! I don’t want to have to go through this again!’

TJ

Had you asked Martin why he was so interested in being a spy, he’d be
hard pressed to say. He was feeling a bit hidebound, perhaps. The
relationship dramas of his fellow classmates bored him and after he got
his real driver’s license he realized he was still too young to go
anywhere. He enjoyed his permit training with his dad, and thought maybe
a more mature perspective would bring them closer together. But his
father never approved of his freelance spy training. And when a secret
panel fell open on his dad’s workbench, he suddenly knew why that was.

Planet Z

I wake up.
I open my eyes.
It’s cold. It’s dark.
I’m laying on a bench
Looking up.
Branches. Dark skies.
Snow is falling.
It is beautiful.
I feel it on my face.
Cold. Melting. Wet.
Blinking it out of my eyes.
I open my mouth
It’s covered. Taped shut.
I reach and
I can’t move my arms
Or legs
Tied to the bench?
I can’t move.
I shake, I yell
Nothing.
I can’t move. I can’t make a noise.
I can’t roll off.
I open my eyes.
It is cold. It is dark.
Snow is falling.
It is terrifying.