Category: Weekly Challenge

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Twenty-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 Friend!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	LizzieBeth
	Kelley
	Kristine
	Zackmann
	Freereed
	Almo
	TJ
	Norval Joe
	Arri
	Petlove
	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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LizzieBeth

“Sally!” cried Teeghan as she rushed towards her friend of twenty-two years. “Where on earth have you been?”
Whirling about, Sally’s eyes widened as she gazed at her with surprise. “Um . . .” she stammered, “I’ve been busy.”
Clapping her best friend about upon the shoulder, she claimed her spot in the line that had begun to form before the Starbuck’s coffee counter.
“We’ve a lot to catch up on,” Teeghan continued.
“We do?” Sally sputtered, absently rubbing her right temple in hopes of alleviating the headache that had begun to rise.
“Yes, we really do.”
“What about?”
“Everything!”

Kelley

His arms and legs were broken in a car accident.
For four weeks I’ve been safe.
But he is getting better. The abuse will start again.
I shoot him once and keep shooting until all that remains is the click of the trigger.
He lies crooked and bleeding.
It does not look like self defense.
With trembling hands I pick up the phone and dial.
“Hello?” says a familiar voice.
“I need you.”
It’s been fifteen years since I’ve seen her, but I know that she will come.
She is my friend. She will know what to do.

Kristine

Wiggawiggas were the toys we invented. Cute little fluffy puff creatures named for the sound they made when they moved: “wiggawiggawigawigga”. They were really just a square inch of white rabbit fur, but in our hands they were adorable and curious creatures with a love for sassafras tea and trips to the bathroom sink beauty parlor. At the time, I didn’t think we were poor or anything. I guess, maybe we just weren’t as easily conned by marketing as kids are today. In any case, Eric and I, we had the wiggawiggas. The best toys ever.

Zackmann

Victor’s parents asked him to go and make a friend because they were worried he spent too
many hours every day with his face in books. His parents asked “Don’t you think you should
take a break”. “But it’s science” he told his parents. They sent him outside hoping he would play
with other children. Oddly he took a sewing kit with him.
Later, father said “Have you made any friends?”
“Yes, but it is hard to find enough good parts”
“Young man, I told you to make friends not fiends. We should have never bought you a
chemistry set”

Freereed

backlit in the doorway
dressed in white again
she’s in pain
rheumatoid arthritis is
twisting her bones
she cant take our holiday to the sea
cant take that trip to paris
i got something for you not feeling well
i unwrap elouise
a nice clean copy
oh read it to me
read it to me
she flops on my bed
i cant read it to you my rooms a mess
no read it to me
i read her elouise at the park plaza
she’s laughing
i send her home with it
now you can get the illustrations
she’s only fifty

Almo

Billy lifted his glass and took a swallow of his beer. The barroom door opened and mid-afternoon light streamed in.
Billy and Sam shaded their eyes against the intrusion.
“When did you find out?” Sam said.
“Tuesday,” Billy answered flatly.
Sam grimaced and drank his beer. He made sure the bartender wasn’t close enough to overhear.
“What tipped you off?” Sam said.
“You know how Fred always wears that American Legion pin,” Billy said quietly.
Sam nodded.
“I found it in the bedroom,” Billy said.
“And you never suspected?” Sam said.
“Nah,” Billy answered. “He’s a friend.”

TJ

Fran from her formative years felt a fondness for ferns, and she figured
she’d flourish as a florist. She founded her flower shop with her
friend Fiona on a firm handshake but with a flutter in her heart. She
needn’t have fretted. “Fran, Fronds and Fi” became famous for
finding just the right ferns for films. They had a falling out, however,
when “Frisco Today” featured Fran, but not Fi. Faux pas. Fiona,
furious, flipped out and flung fertilizer into the fountain in the
foyer, asphixiating Fran’s fish. They ran the business 50-50, but
their friendship proved flimsy. How unfortunate.

Norval Joe

Fifteen minutes after he was born, his brother was too. From then on, he never needed a friend; he had his brother.
They slept in bunk beds, ate side-by-side at the dinner table, and even sat in the same over stuffed chair while watching tv.
They were inseparable, until junior high school.
An eighth-grader told his brother, they looked so much alike and were always together, they must be fags.
His brother never told him. Just hated him for it.
He didn’t understand what happened, so he just hated his brother back.
It was years before they were friends again.

Arri

Wardel stuck his thumb out again but by this time had pretty much given up on landing a ride out here in the middle of nowhereville. WHOOSH, didn’t even look. Just like most aspects of his life felt recently, he’d been abruptly dropped off. Wasn’t very inclined to enthusiasm or faith anymore either.
Behind him a forceful voice said, “Ride?”
Wardel jumped a foot. “Shit you scared me! Where the heck did…?”
“Or company?”
Wardel meekly replied, “Err Both?
“Done. There in 20”
“Whaaa?, how’d you know where…?”
“Your friends care. They know. You only knew them virtually. Till now.”

Petlove

Met Charlene at Hunter’s. Both great creative people. The meeting over, Charlene said ‘let’s go hear some music.’ We went to hear some blues. Good music. Good time. She left… I hung out.
There was s a huge praying mantis hovering around the ceiling. The thing was almost on my head. As I backed up away from it I stepped on a foot. Oops. Apologized. Turned around to look and it was this blonde god. He laughed.
It’s been four years. He turned into a wonderful friend. Every day is fresh and new with him. Amazing how things work out.

I had some fun with Verti today. Can’t stand her. I sat next to her cage where she was lying down, pretending to ignore me. Didn’t look at her. Didn’t try to get a piece of her. Just sat there. I know she hated every second of it. HA. I’m glad she was in the cage though. She’s a tank. And she’s fast! Who would have thought somebunny so solid could be so fast? There’s no getting away from her and you can’t fight her. I wanted to be friends with her but she’s so grumpy! She had her chance…

Planet Z

Trust issues.
The therapist said I needed to become my own best friend.
“But I have no real friends,” I said.
“None at all?” said the therapist. “Not even me?”
This was new… strange… “I never thought of you that way. You’re my doctor, not my friend.”
“Well, think of me as a friend, someone you confide in. Someone-”
That’s when I hit him with the shovel.
I buried him in the back yard with my files.
I look like him. I sound like him.
I will become my own best friend. I will become him.
My trust issues gone.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Twenty-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 Everyday!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	LizzieBeth
	Matt
	TJ
	Kelley
	Zackmann
	Jeffrey
	Norval Joe
	Justin
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

LizzieBeth

Devastation lay everywhere. This was not something that one saw everyday.
Rubble littered every part of the city, a sign that something big had taken place.
Overturned cars. Empty boxes. Broken windows. Abandoned homes. There was no sign of life wherever you looked.
Thick layers of grime and dust covered every surface. It was hard to believe that the town had prospered, just moments ago. To see the remnants of life extinguished in the town within the blink of an eye was astounding.
Nothing moved. Nothing breathed.
All was still.
A nuclear bomb had fallen somewhere, taking everything with it.

Matt

Every day my alarm clock goes off like an air raid siren during world war three.
Every day my water heater produces just enough hot water to last half of my shower.
Every day I end up late for work because some moron can’t understand the fundamentals of driving. The left lane is for going fast people!
Every day the problems I deal with at work are more complex and idiotic than the one before.
Every day the dog leaves me a gift when I get home.
And every day I feel better when listening to a hundred word story.

TJ

Every day, another piece arrived.
Small items, insignificant in themselves, had been arriving in the daily
mail for as long as I could remember.
When I was 10, a manual arrived. I could see the items were in fact
components for a large, complicated machine.
Machines, rather. I’d construct the machines – odd monstrosities I
couldn’t quite understand. Every day more pieces, new manuals, me
fitting them together. The machines themselves were combined into
something even larger, but I still didn’t know what it all was.
Today, a key arrived. I turned it. The machine killed me.
The pieces stopped coming.

Kelley

Everyday I see him, but he doesn’t know I’m there.
I dyed my hair, fixed my nose, but he didn’t even care.
I wave hello, give a nod, offer my brightest smile.
I wait for him to say, “Hello. Come sit. Let’s talk awhile.”
I’ve never seen his eyes, the glasses he wears are dark.
He strums the guitar and sings a song, his voice is like the lark.
Today I will approach him, make him notice me.
He says, “Hello? Who’s there? You know that I can’t see.”
I turn around and run. He never hears me flee.

Zackmann

Sometimes you just have to do things for yourself but the Internet can help. Can’t I get my wife to do that for me as an everyday duty? No, it is more of a special favor in today’s busy world you will be lucky if she does you that special favor twice a week. I am not sure you are ready to get married. So we won’t have sex every day? If you mean sex right after you get married but before you have children, the chances are good. Wait, I was talking about your needing to learning to cook.

Jeffrey

The emperor has two wives. In public the are a very loving family. In private it is a different story
Every day the Emperor brings a lover to the palace. Everyday he insists on having tea before they consummate their new relation ship. Everyday he leaves her alone while he goes to the kitchen and puts the water on.
“Hair.”
“Gag.”
“Knife.”
“Throat.”
“Incinerator chute.”
Every day at dinner with his wives the emperor shakes his head and sighs. “Why do all the pages run away from me?”
“I hate you,” whispers the first.
“I hate you more.” sings the second.

Norval Joe

Everyday that summer, the young man waited at the Sycamore Street bus stop of route 54b.
Everyday he awaited the bus, monthly pass in hand, held high like the statue of liberty.
Everyday he wore a bathing cap, swim goggles, speedo swim shorts and a towel pinned around his neck.
Everyday he sat in the first bench and nodded sternly to each passenger that boarded between Sycamore and the mall.
Everyday the driver asked, “Why you dress that way, son?”
“To protect the world from evil,” he replied everyday, until the weather turned cold and he was never seen again.

Justin

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There’s shows about movies, music, UFC fights, zombies, and dramatic readings of Wikipedia articles.
Want to help? Record ten minutes of something, or pick a few of your favorite podsafe songs and send an email to compassion365@gmail.com and we’ll put you on the show! Do it for the children. Get more info at Compassion365.com.
Give it a listen!

Planet Z

There once was a time when I loved to hear the song “Everyday People.”
I could listen to it all day, lifting the arm on the record player and starting it back up on the turntable.
When I wasn’t home, I’d request it on the radio.
Now, after all these years, I can’t stand to hear it.
It wasn’t just my song, you know.
It was also hers.
Ours.
It was love at first note, really.
Then, one day, the record player broke.
By the time I bought a replacement, she was gone.
Can’t stand it anymore.
Turn it off.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Twenty-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 Air the fair!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Matt R
	Caleb B
	Steven S
	LizzieBeth
	June S
	Jeffrey H
	Justin L
	Norval Joe
	TJ
	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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Matt

A man named John met Jack and Jill at the fair one fine summer day. John said to Jill what a thrill it is still to roll down the hill down the way. So John, Jack and Jill went over to the hill to race down to the side sans their sleigh. John went first and landed with a curse as his head hit the hardened clay. Then Jack and Jill followed John’s step and rolled down the hill the wrong way. Both Jack and Jill tumbled down the hill and landed hard that summer day. They forgot the water.

Caleb

@thefair: Be thee fair or foul I’d love thee still
more than heaven or all the gods above could know
@shakeybill: Games! Rides! Prizes! Try the funnel cakes! All down at the Chinchilla fairground this weekend!
@thefair: The games with you I’ve played in days gone by
The prize is love; fried and battered tasty
@shakeybill: This weekend at the Chinchilla fairground You’ll have such a great time your life will be changed forever!
@thefair Yes change my life your love would bring me life
Allow me but to taste your lips this night
@shakeybill Yes, I love you too!

Steven

“I don’t want to go on the stupid ride.” Sarah put her small fists on
her hips, staring at her father.
The spin-and-puke (or whatever) sang the same shrill tune as the
neighborhood ice cream truck. “Okay,” her father said. “How about a
balloon animal?” A nearby mime, hearing him, wheeled his tank and
deflated balloons closer.
“I want Spot to be alive again,” Sarah wailed, tears streaking her dusty face.
The mime lifted a finger and went to work. In moments, he presented
Sarah with the inflated dog.
She looked unimpressed, until it licked her and wagged its tail.

LizzieBeth

The smell of popcorn wafted through the air. It tickled the senses, inviting a person to sample its mysteries. To delve into delights that could only be imagined.
Hustle and bustle permeated every available corner. Some people scream. Others start shouting, oblivious to their surroundings. Children squeal with delight, eager to partake of every nook and cranny that lay hidden to their view.
Animals brayed, signaling for the want of attention. Yet their voices seemed to fall on deaf ears as people ran about.
Turn here or there; a new sight beheld the eyes. A new smell captivated the senses.

June

Tommy patiently led his little brother to the dart game, fishing pond, and duck river.
He put his foot down at the ferris wheel.
“That’s slow and for babies. Come on Jason, let’s get on the Scrambler.”
“No! I want to go up high!” A foot stamp.
“It doesn’t go that high, and it’s tamer than the moon bounce.”
Tommy began to drag his brother; away from the puke orange wheel, listing in the faint summer breeze. Jason craned his neck around to see the stupid thing.
Until the ferris wheel fell over, onto the Scrambler merrily spinning beside it.

Jeffrey

“Coin Please.”
“What?”
“Your coin please sir.”
“You have got to be kidding you are charging me to get across. What if I just stay here?”
“You’ll be stuck in limbo all eternity unless you pay the fare.”
“Fine, what is it?”
“One sliver coin.”
“sliver coin, you know how long its been since we used sliver coins?”
“One silver coin or you don’t cross.”
“Your just stuck on this aren’t you. Let me see what I’ve here. Gum, receipt, sugar packet, ah a one Euro. That is the best I got.”
“That will have to do.”
“What no change?”

Justin

I looked over the various weapons; Pistols and rifles. Despite the various sizes, they all used the same ammo: Rubber bands. The man tending the booth had rough hands and a pock-marked face. Several other folks were checking out the weaponry. A crying kid and his mom walked up to the booth. The kid held a broken rifle. Through tears the kid explained he dropped the gun and it broke. The weapons dealer said he couldn’t replace it. More pleading tears. The man replaced the weapon. The kid’s face held joy. I bought a pistol. I reward good customer service.

Norval Joe

She was an unusual child and didn’t mix well with the other teens in the small rural town. None of the kids knew if Shanelle had moved from the city or a forein country. When she spoke, it was a quiet monotone without accent.
They were surprised when she joined 4H.
“I breed rabbits,” she said without producing any evidence to support her claim, until the competition at the fair.
They thought she joked when she asked that her bunnies be judged in an experimental class.
The carnage on opening day made it clear she was serious about vampire rabbits.

TJ

This year’s FFA displays were worth the entire price of admission.
There were some impressive exhibits among livestock and produce, but two
pickup trucks were required to transport the odds-on favorite for
first-place prize-winning pumpkin in from the Mickelson farm. It was
about the size of a shed and had a fiery orange coloring that seemed to
glow in the sunlight. Indeed, it took first, but the cash prize of
$1,000 was ultimately little comfort as the other effects of living
downstream from Globex Biochemitrol began to manifest themselves –
starting when the winning pumpkin sprouted … legs … and teeth.

Planet Z

I do advertising.
But I haven’t worked for a year. Agency fired me.
Every credit card maxed out. No savings left.
Bank’s foreclosing the house.
I’ve sent my resume everywhere, been to every job fair.
Nobody’s hiring.
I thought about killing myself for the insurance, but that’s gone. The policy was canceled when I lost my job.
That’s when I came up with the solution: establish my own agency.
When do I get clients?
I’ll get my old ones back.
The agency’s staff meeting should be starting.
Hillary’s Homemade Cookies. A new client.
I’m Hillary.
Made with love… and poison!

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Twenty-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 Two!
VOTING

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

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

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Caleb

“This town aint small enough for the two of us” Bart yelled at the Sheriff from the window of the other starbucks. “We got two saloons, two whorehouses, two Apple stores and I got no excuse to call you out you somebitch. Your kids go to the other school, your wife goes to the other church, you go to the other Chinese acupuncturist, and I can’t take it no more.
“What about the art school?” suggested the sheriff.
“There’s two of them too”
“Yeah but mine’s better”
“Oh, you think so huh?”
“Oh I know so.”
“Okay then, Sheriff. Draw!”

Steven

Contrary to written records, Noah’s family did most of the species
gathering. The animals milled in pens all around Noah’s farm while he
finished the ark.
“Advanced degree in genetics,” Noah said, “and the Lord has me sawing
wood. You’d think He likes carpenters or something.”
Upon finishing, Noah realized how little space was inside the ark.
“Lord,” he said as the rain began to fall, “there’s only room for two
of each animal. The genetic bottleneck will -”
The flash and boom of an atomic explosion echoed from the distance.
“Don’t worry about it,” said the Lord. “There’ll be mutations.”

Zackmann

Two. Two. Why did I write two people dead. Justin dead.Poor Justin, I wrote him such a gruesome death, so fitting for Pseudopod, or maybe not it was the first time they posted a file with the Squick tag. And Lovecraft scholars said you could not write a description more gruesome than someone could imagine. I do not understand because Nothing happened to Gary Leeland in real life when Scott Sigler killed him off in Infected. Since there were two stories, I just pray that if Clarkesworld buys my other story Lawrence Simon never tours a dog food factory.

Ishtar

One shot is all it takes. The lights, the sounds, the world as we knew it ends.
I wasn’t there but I was blamed. I was the patsy, the fall guy. What did I do you ask?
Hahaha. All I did was speak up. Tell the truth. No one else
would tell of their dirty deeds. Is this really how it ends.
I shouldn’t have involved you in this. But I had to tell someone. I have to hang up
the phone now. There right outside the door. Remember this. One shot started it all. The second
will end it.

Norval Joe

I woke to a high-pitched, horrifying screetch, and knew it could only be one thing; the vampire moth. I threw up my hands to block its attack. The two psuedo-eyes of its wings appeared to flicker as the malevolent creature fluttered toward me. Often confused for its diurnal and harmless cousin, the blood-sucking butterfly, the moth paralyzes its prey with a unique mesmerizing whistle.
Its antenae transformed into hollow tubes and stretched toward my unprotected neck.
I screamed out in my sleep and woke my two children in the tent with me.
“Dad,” they said, “you’re having a bad dream.”

Salvador Los Dos was born a twin, in Mineapolis, Minisota, during a blue moon. Shortly after birth, his brother died from an infection, secondary to a minor surgery on the proximal inter phalangeal joint of his index finger, and the family moved to St. Paul.
Though he never knew his brother, Sal felt duality throughout his life. As a child he insisted his mother set a second plate for the missing sibling and had his father buy bunkbeds for his room.
As a teen he developed bi-polar depression, dual personality disorder, and was admitted to the second life psychiatric hospital.

TJ

It was like a mirror. A scary ass mirror.
Alerted only moments before to the breakout, I felt my eyes looking at
me before I really saw myself. But there I was, striding across the
xeriscape garden, a psychopathic glint in my eye.
I turned to run as I smashed my front window and pursued myself down the
hallway, machete gleaming in my hand, coming for me.
And who could blame me? Created and treated like they were, where did we
get the idea that our donor clones would be friendly?
“My turn,” I said, and chopped myself in two.

Justin

Arthur’s wife, Yvon, had the zombie infection. The greening skin made it impossible to hide, but it could be slowed. They abstained from physical contact. The scientists working on the cure didn’t know why, but this slowed the spread of the infection in the body. Even a small touch accelerated it by days. Arthur watched his wife slowly emaciate and wither and he could not give her the comfort of his arms. She would not attack him, she would just diminish in body, then in mind. When Arthur became infected, it didn’t matter anymore. They made love one last time.

Marty dug through the locker, cringing. Ever since the station started falling apart, everyone hogged the suits in case of accident. Now when Marty needed a suit for EVA, he struggled to find one his size. He found one though. Marty looked at it and frowned. This one had a nametag. Senior staff got priority. Their suits couldn’t be used without permission, unless… Marty sighed. Sure, Barney was dead, but he had stunk. A quick whiff confirmed the suit carried on the legacy. A klaxon blared. Floating outside, ejected through the hull breach, he considered seeing if space smelled better.

Planet Z

The first grave of Ezekiel Piersonstein is on Chapel Hill.
The other is down by the road.
Same dates, born and died.
Why the late Mr. Piersonstein has two graves has been a mystery, as all the town’s records were lost in a church fire centuries ago.
I researched this, and I now have the answer: there were two Ezekiel Piersonstein.
Born on the same day to sisters fighting over a vast family fortune. They named their children after their father to win his favor.
They were raised as bitter rivals.
On their eighteenth year, they dueled.
Both were slain.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Twenty-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 Psyche!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Guard13007
	Steven
	Zackmann
	TJ
	Norval Joe
	Justin
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Guard13007

Psyche was a beautiful princess. She was visited by Cupid at night, and became his lover. She wanted to visit him, but he told her that she shouldn’t seek him out. Psyche wondered why this was, surely the Gods should allow Cupid to visit whomever?
Then one day, after a long time without being visited by the God of love, Psyche decided to finally seek Cupid out. She must find out why he’d been gone so long.
When Psyche found Cupid, there was another women with him. “So this is why I can’t see you!?”
“You have another woman?!”

Steven

I pull off the back door of the paddywagon. A cop flies out too,
thumping hard on the concrete. The supervillain’s last henchman is
ziptied to the seat. Another officer looks back through the window.
My exoskeleton smashes through reinforced glass and cop skull alike.
“I was wonderin’ when we’d get sprung,” the henchman says.
My head swivels toward him. “Who hired your boss?” The ectoplasm
from the villain’s defeat still smears across the San Matias sky.
“Wha? I dunno.”
“Damn.” I turn to leave.
“I thought you were getting’ me out?”
“Psyche,” I say, and tear out his spleen.

Zackmann

The little one claims I am potentially damaging his psyche. Teens are so dramatic. He pleads for me to “Stop calling the dog “Laptop” because of the price of the veterinary bill when he got sick , Stop referring to his grandparents return trip to Manila as “your mother losing her parents”, Stop calling the moment the plane leaves as “the beginning of your mother’s time of mourning” Since they are not dying and although she will miss them she can use Skype to call them a couple of days after they leave. Also Stop cooking food only my brother likes.”
zackmann

TJ

Shawn: I understand you’ve been murdered
Gus: Kidnapped.
Shawn: Your wife’s been kidnapped and you clearly need our help. My name is Shawn Spencer and this is my associate, Tracksuit McBeasley.
Gus: My mother was Mrs. McBeasley.
Shawn: Gus don’t be the entire city of Cleveland, Ohio. I am a psychic detective with the Santa Barbara Police Department. As for your wife I have no idea but I thought I might run around for about 38 minutes cracking wise while various things light up and in the end she would sort of .. turn up and I would take the credit.
Gus: It’s what we do.

Norval Joe

The Psyche or Leptosia nina is a small white butterfly indigenous to Southern India. It’s flight is weak and erratic. The body of the butterfly bobs up and down as it beats its wings. This short lived creature rarely leaves ground level as it flies low over the grass.
For years, decades, (a century?) I bob my way up and down as life beats its wings against me. My psyche, my soul, my breath, struggle for flight, though my body is weak and erratic. My achievements scatter around my feet, pale and colorless like the wings of a dead butterfly.

Justin

Psyche woke up in her room to find Eros standing over her with an
arrow. Startled, he accidentally scratched himself with the arrow,
making him love her. It also made him fall in love with self-harm. Now
hes a head over heels lover practicing disfiguring body modification.
What’s worse is his mother Aphrodite is encouraging it because the
whole reason Eros was there was to cause Psyche to fall in love with
an ugly creature, because Aphrodite was jealous of Psyche’s beauty.
Psyche tried to flee it all, but she could not escape her big fat
Greek mythology soap opera.

Planet Z

Carl Jung wrote extensively on the psyche and the soul, but he had a slight problem.
The German word for psyche is the same as the German word for soul.
Every time Jung tried to talk about one, his audience thought he was talking about the other.
So, he sought out a new word to represent the psyche.
Climbing the highest peak in the Alps, Carl met with an ancient guru.
And the guru told him “I’m an old fool on a cold mountain peak! What are you doing up here? Get your ass out of here!”
Carl left, dejected.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Twenty, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Mensa!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Steven the Nuclear Man
	Zackmann
	Guy David
	Cristina
	Almo
	TJ
	Pods And Ends
	Norval Joe
	Justin
	Planet Z
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Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

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Steven the Nuclear Man

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

Zackmann

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

Guy David

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

Cristina

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

Almo

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

TJ

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

Pods And Ends

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

Norval Joe

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

Justin

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

Planet Z

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

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Nineteen, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Goblin!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Nikita Cat
	Zachmann
	TJ
	Steven
	Guy
	Norval Joe
	Justin
	Planet Z
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Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

---

Nikita

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

Zackmann

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

TJ

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

Steven

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

Guy David

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

Norval Joe

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

Justin

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

Planet Z

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

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eighteen, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Rent!
VOTING

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

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

---

Guy David

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

Steven

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

Zackmann

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

TJ

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

Norval Joe

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

Justin

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

Planet Z

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

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Seventeen, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s There’s an elephant in the room!
VOTING

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

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

---

Guy David

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

Steven

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

Zackmann

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

TJ

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

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

Justin

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

Norval Joe

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

Planet Z

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

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Sixteen, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Good Lord, That’s Not Pie! and Motion!
VOTING

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

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

---

Zachmann

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

TJ

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

Brad

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

Stephen

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

Jeffrey

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

Justin

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

Norval Joe

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

Planet Z

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