Category: Weekly Challenge

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

Which were the best stories this year?
	Steven the Nuclear Man
	Ross
	Keeme
	Zachmann
	TJ
	Norval Joe
	Justin
	Anima
	JRadimus
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Steven the Nuclear Man

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

Ross

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

Keeme

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

Zachmann

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

TJ

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

Norval Joe

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

Justin

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

Anima

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

JRadimus

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

Planet Z

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

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

Which were the best stories this year?
	Zachmann
	Keeme
	Ross
	Anima
	Steven
	TJ
	JRadimus
	Norval Joe
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Zachmann

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

Keeme

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

Ross

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

Anima

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

Steven

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

TJ

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

JRadimus

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

Norval Joe

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

Planet Z

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

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

Which were the best stories this year?
	Zachmann
	Steven
	TJ
	Norval Joe
	Anima
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Zachmann

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

Steven

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

TJ

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

Norval Joe

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

Anima

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

Planet Z

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

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

Which were the best stories this year?
	Zachmann
	Vince T
	Jeffrey
	Steven
	TJ
	JRadimus
	Justin
	Norval Joe
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Zachmann

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

Vince T

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

Jeffrey

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

Steven

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

TJ

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

JRadimus

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

Justin

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

Norval Joe

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

Planet Z

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

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and One, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s What have I got in my pockets?!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this year?
	Zachmann
	Steven
	Justin
	TJ
	Anima
	JRadimus
	Norval Joe
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Zachmann

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

Steven

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

Justin

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

TJ

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

Anima

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

JRadimus

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

Norval Joe

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

Z

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

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred, 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 “It’s gotta be better than” and “Road apples”!
The excellent theme music is by Guy David.
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	h3nix
	Zachmann
	Stephen
	Justin
	Anima
	TJ Aman
	Norval Joe
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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h3nix

Neezlebum sat along the bank of the river, his bamboo fishing pole extending out over the water. He was happily two hours away from work, wife, and what others passed as civilization. Peace and quite surrounded him and he was filled with an immense sensation that nothing could possibly go wrong today. Not even as he heard footsteps approaching.
“So how’s it going today?” asked a deep voice.
Neezlebum, not even bothering to eye the stranger, “Well, I woke up above ground. It’s gotta be better than the alternative, eh?”
“That’s a loada road apples, I think,” replied Death thoughtfully.

Zachmann

It was the day of the fair. The judge was tasting pies. He tasted the pumpkin pie and said “this is a very good pie but it is sweet potato not pumpkin.” He tasted the apple pies and said “this is made with Granny Smith apples.” then the Pair pies and he said “This pie made with Bosc Pairs is great.” “this rhubarb pie could use just a little more sugar” The judge said “I thought anythings gotta be better than my fathers cooking but this pie taste like Road Apples” “Yeah, I know but form what breed of horse?”

Stephen

“Hold this, Maude,” Howard said, handing her his logout button, arms
spread wide under pixelated clouds. “This virtual world is awesome!”
“Ew.” Maude looked at her shoe. “Howard, I stepped in sh-”
“A road apple, yes!” His eyes shone. “The detail is amazing! And we
can stay here until we want to leave.”
“No, Howard.”
“Baby, this is better than our old life. ”
Maude hit her logout button and left, taking his button with her.
“No,” Maude said to herself. “You just have to make real life better.”
She left VirtuaWorld, whistling and tossing both logout buttons in the trash.

Justin

When you’re a hungry man with no home, you eat what you can. Half rotten apples on the side of the road are better than nothing.
The skinny monster in front of me looks lost, wrong dimension. Considering it’s situation, I’m a half rotten apple.
I understand it’s hungry like me and I’m the nearest thing to eat, but apples don’t think and live like me.
I decide we both got a right to live and toss it my bag of apples. It sniffs them and swats them away. Refusing a gift ain’t right.
This apple is gunna fight back.

Anima

“Want to see how you got that grin ? Pull up GoobTube…. Here we go – skipping school, drinking a few brews. Now we’re down by the lake, with a suicase of Natty Ice. Thank goodness someone got smart and called their sober sister. Ha! Jerry suggested goofy pranks, like TPing Coaches’ house and stealing traffic cones. No way did I think you were drunk enough to juggle road apples… “
(voice from video) “Eww – Did you just take a bite? That has gotta be better than kissing cows… do it again – I missed the shot…”

TJ

The History Channel’s “Life After People” – where they speculate about a world after all people disappear – is doing a segment called “Dishes.” My mom tipped them off I let my dishes pile up when I’ve got a show going on, and yep, three months into my stage production of “Chicago,” my kitchen’s a disaster. Dishes to the ceiling, covered with bugs and the place smells like road apples. You’d think it would raise my profile but no. More people will see my damn’ plates on basic cable than will see me on stage. At least my mom got a T-shirt.

Norval Joe

George surveyed the fifteen members of his party as they strapped the snowshoes to their feet.
The groups leader said, “You can stay here and wait if you want, Mr. Donner. We’re going to cross the pass and get help. It’s gotta be better than sitting around here, eating boiled ox hide.”
“Go then,” Donner said, “you wont find so much as a road apple to eat, there’s probably fifteen feet of snow in that pass.”
As the group known as the Forlorn Hope left, Donner said to his wife, “Darn, I was hoping to have them around for dinner.”

Planet Z

The Wastelands Professor stood at the end of The Road, apple in one hand and knife in the other.
“It is two days’ journey from our orchard to The Obelisk and back,” he said.
The student recalled stories of mutants and wolves circling Oasis Settlement.
He chose the knife.
“It’s got to be better than the apple,” he said.
And began to walk.
The knife remained at his side.
It did not nourish him.
It did not give him healing compounds to combat radiation sickness.
The High Priest grumbled at the loss of another knife and called the blacksmith.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Ninety-Nine, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Anything you want, Higgledy piggledy, Tree!
The excellent theme music is by Guy David.
VOTING

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

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

---

Zachmann

A beautiful Filipina woman wearing a Jessica Rabbit dress walked up to me where I was sitting on a bench near a tree in the park. She leaned forward. My mind went higgledy piggledy because of the very revealing dress. We started to talk. We had a chemistry. She said “I will do anything you want.” I took her home. Naturally since I was a man and she was a sexy woman, I told her how lucky I was to met her then I asked her to make Shanghai lumpia and watch the children so I could take a nap. zackmann (next topic music)

Norval Joe

The note said, “Meet me at the oak tree after school.”
Chad recognized the purple ink.
When the bell rang, he ran to the tree.
She handed him a red paper heart with lace trim. In silver glitter it said, “I’m higgledy piggledy over you, Valentine.”
He blushed furiously and hoped no one saw.
When she turned away he hid it in his book.
“Amy, wait,” he called and pulled a crumpled card from his back pocket. He pushed it into her hand and ran away.
It read, “Anything you want, Valentine, I’m it.”
Sixth grade is tough on boys.

Steven

I ran as fast as my stubbly little hooves would go. Gary said my
running was “higgledly-piggledly”, but Gary’s dead now.
My tree had fallen. It wasn’t strong enough. Stronger than Gary’s
straw hut, strong enough to give me a chance to run, but that was all.
Ralph stared wide-eyed at me through the window of his brick house.
“Let me in!”
A tear ran down Ralph’s cheek. He didn’t open the door.
The wolf’s breath was hot on my neck.
“Your choice, little piggy. I’ll eat you any way you want.”
I tried to choose something quick.

Justin

* “Brave Dwarf, you’ve helped the elves so much, and we owe you deeply. What gifts could we give you in return?”
“Well, now that my home as been destroyed, please build me a tree house to live in!”
* “Certainly Dwarf! We would be honored if you stayed with us.”
“I’d like haggis to eat at least once a week.”
* “Haggis? This is strange to us, but we will provide if we can. We owe our survival to you, after all.”
“Most of all, the thing I really want …”
* “Yes, Dwarf?”
“Stop calling me Dwarf, my name is Higgledy Piggledy!”

TJ

“Hey kids, great game!” Coach said. “Let’s all get ice cream!”
“Ice cream!” Gleeful shouts filled the air as the ice cream truck pulled up next to the ballpark in the shade of a tree.
“Order whatever you want!” Coach said as the kids ran higgledy-piggledy towards it.
The losing team watched the mass of joy headed to the truck.
“No ice cream for losers,” the visiting team’s Coach growled.
The kids piled into a half dozen cars and headed homeward, for a rather more bleak end of town, as the lowering sky unloaded a cloudburst of disappointment upon them.

JRadimus

There’s a town in the valley with a peculiar tree growing amidst the ruins of a church. Its origin is so unique the town’s name changed from Johnson’s Elbow to Big Preacher’s Oak.
Long ago, in another village, a precocious girl named Esther was given a Wishing Stone by a hermit. He told her, “This will grant your heart’s true desire. But,” he warned, “You mustn’t cast your wish higgledy-piggledy.”
Finally, Esther knew what she wanted: this travelling preacher’s daughter was tired of travelling. Pinching the stone, she whispered, “I wish Papa would put down roots here in Johnson’s Elbow…”

Planet Z

This was my first time Deep South, so when someone told me that the grocery store was called the Piggly Wiggly, I started cracking jokes.
“Does that make the hardware store the Higgedly Piggeldy?” I said.
They stripped me naked and tied me to a tree.
Then they set my car on fire and rolled it into the lake.
“Anything you want before we cut your throat, Yankee?” said a man in a white hood and robe.
“Yeah, flowers and dinner before you fuck me,” I said.
He smiled, pulled out some roses, and dropped his pants.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Ninety-Eight, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Haggis!
The excellent theme music is by Guy David.
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Taylor
	Steven
	Zachmann
	Almo
	Katharina
	Anima
	Mick
	JRadimus
	TJ
	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):

---

Taylor

Charlie the Gnome had been working hard all morning.
First he went to the market and traded what donuts he had for the
ingredients. Then back in his small cottage he had soaked and roasted
and chopped and mixed and stuffed the various items until he had
several plump round sausage. Finally, he put them in a pot of boiling
water. Their foul smell filled the cottage.
Charlie went outside. He looked lovingly at his ravaged donut orchard.
In a couple of hours her could hang the Haggis among the donut trees.
That should keep the Bugbears away, Charlie thought.

Steven

“Welcome to Haggis Anonymous. My name’s Bob.”
“Hi, Bob,” the crowd said.
“It started with bridies and a utilikilt,” Bob said. “Just a little
something at the Renfair. Then I tried blood pudding – and liked it.”
Murmurs of sympathy came from the seated members.
“Before long, I wore tartan and piped bagpipe music into my office.”
Bob paused. “I’m a dentist.”
The others contemplated the combined horror.
“Then I ate haggis. Every meal. Snacks, even,” Bob said. “I went
clean one year ago.”
“How?” the new kid asked.
Bob smiled. “Eating the closest thing to haggis that isn’t. Hotdogs.”

Zachmann

Today we play our favorite game, “You taste it before we tell you what is in it”. Remember when you thought Chocolate meat had chocolate in it? You might like this as much as balut. Smell the aroma. Tastes It. Does it tastes good? Are you sure you want to know what is in it? It is like sausage made of sheep with oatmeal and onions then cooked in the natural casing of a sheep’s intestine. Now will you want haggis as often as you ask for Okonomiyaki, if there are any leftovers we can put it in Okonomiyaki.

Almo

Having no female heirs, James R. McTavish laid down in his will that a closely held family recipe for haggis would go to cousin Mavis.
Mavis looked sheepish. “Haggis?” she asked.
Jim Junior whispered in her ear. Mavis, a dyed-in-the-wool vegetarian made a horrible face.
Much to everyone’s surprise, Mavis took the recipe and opened a chain of Scottish restaurants.
“I never thought she’d have the guts,” said Jim, who invested much of the family fortune.
Two months later, Mavis was on the lam, absconding with the money.
“Certainly pulled the wool over my eyes,” Jim lamented.

Katharina

The handcuffs felt cold against her wrists – almost like a new bracelet.
She figured they must be real ones, even though she wasn’t able to see
anything through the blindfold. There was a sweet, chocolatey smell in
the air – she soon found out why when the sauce dripped onto her chest.
His tongue was soft on her skin, then she felt his finger on her lips.
When she opened her mouth, she felt his weight shift, as if he wanted to
feed her.
The very second the smell reached her nose, she shouted out loud…
“Haggis??? ARE YOU CRAZY!”

Anima

“You are trying my patience Jack, first with “getting back to your cultural roots” and now this “localvore” eating.
“Sorry, luv, but, ain’t they cute?”
“Yes, spring lambs are adorable, but soon they mature into summer sheep, then they’re winter mutton. Where are you going to keep ‘em? In the dog kennel?
Jack glances towards the spare bedroom – “You haven’t used the eliptical in a bit…”
No! Absolutely not. No way am I going to pretend our three story walk up is a croft on the moors just so you can make haggis for Burns Night next January, Jack Shay.

Mick

“Shush, Jamie, ye’ll scare them awa’,” said Auld Tam.
“But uncle, the haggis…” insisted Jamie.
“Hold yer weesht, boy. Dinnae frighten them!”
“Uncle Tam, you wanted to know when the delivery came,” said the boy,
hauling a clear plastic bag full of intestines onto the table. Tam
gave the boy a deep scowl and pointed to the door.
Jamie’s shoulders drooped as he walked off. “Shall I put the oatmeal
and sheeps’ stomachs for the haggis through here too?” he asked.
Tam abandoned his story and buried his head in his hands as the
tartan-clad crowd of tourists fled, green-faced and retching.

JRadimus

Have you ever wondered where those disgusting cultural delicacies came from? Well, I’m gonna tell you anyway:
Every culture hates or fears foreigners, and each developed a way to intimidate them. Drinking games didn’t last long. It became a contest of edible one-up-man’s-ship, a culinary arms race, a game of gastronomic chicken. But you won’t recognize any chicken on that battlefield. The Britons have Blood Pudding. Hispanics have Menudo. Southerners have Chitlins. The Scots entered the war with Haggis. Koreans have Kimchi. The world didn’t know what to do when the Chinese brought animal penises. An immediate armistice was demanded.

TJ

It’s untested! You mustn’t!
Chocolatier Charlie Bucket’s fanciful R&D department was at a loss for fresh ideas. So he dipped into that tired old “golden ticket” well once more, summoning children to the chocolate factory.
The winners were as hopeless as ever. Among them, Scots McTavish grabbed a hunk of red glop on a counter and ate it. In theory, you ate it and tasted whatever you most wanted to.
“Mmm … mother’s haggis,” he began, and then stopped as he became encased in a sac. In reality, everyone tasted haggis. Because they became haggis. The oompah-loompahs rolled him away.

Norval Joe

Robert sat at the table and glared irritably across the food at his parents.
“I hate Haggis,” he said.
His mother looked surprised and asked, “Why do you say that, Robert?”
“I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head. ” I mean, who cares if Harry, Hermoine, and Ron love him so much. He’s stupid and irrisponsible. I don’t see why Dumbledorf keeps him around.”
“Dear, the character in the Harry Potter books is Hagrid. Haggis is a traditional scottish dish made from sheep guts, onions and oatmeal.”
“Oh. Well then. Compared to that, Hagrid’s not such a bad guy.”

Planet Z

I won an all-expenses paid trip to Scotland.
I saw the castles, the moors… the whole works.
I even ate haggis.
I found it delicious.
After I cleared my third plate, I asked the waiter what kind of animal a haggis is.
“It’s a fierce and vicious animal,” he said. “They use the guts for food and the skins and bones for bagpipes.”
“Hunt?” I asked.
I love to hunt.
So, I’m out on the moors, shotgun in one hand and pair a metal spoons in the other, smacking them against my leg.
SHHHH! What was that?

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Ninety-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… was…. um…
It’s Whatever you choose…!
The excellent theme music is by Guy David.
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Justin
	Steven
	Lewis/Dedric
	Anima
	Zachmann
	TJ
	Almo
	Norval Joe
	JRadimus
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Justin

Hey there, please keep that bag behind the counter.
Personal? I wont open it, I promise. It just all these priceless books, people steal them.
No, you don’t look like a thief. I make everyone leave their bags.
Rare occult books? There in the back.
Kitty, stay away from that bag. Shoo cat, stop hissing. Leave that drawstring be!
You’ve opened the bag, oh dear.
Sir! There’s a shoggoth seeping out of your bag, covered with mouths.
Sir, I know you said that, but the cat opened it.
Please sir, control your shoggoth. Store policy, whatever you chew you buy.

Steven

Assholes have destroyed everything I want to say to you.
You’re special to me.
I’ve never felt like this before.
I would do anything for you.
They sound cheesy. They’re all true. But you don’t believe me.
I understand that. I know why you don’t believe me. I know you’ve
been played before. I know they said all those lies to you.
I know.
They confessed.
They’re inside, chained to chairs. Every guy who has ever lied to
you, who has ever hurt you. Here’s the knife. Do whatever you want
to them. You choose. Anything.
Just believe me again.

Lewis/Dedric

A pile of coins were poured out of a small brown bag down on the table.
Johnny looked at them and was silent.
“Well? Are you going to take any?”
Johnny looked up with a confused look on his face.
“Which ones can I have?”
The man gave a chuckle.
“Whatever you choose…”
Johnny started to reach out for the largest coin.
“but not that one!”
Johnny pulled his hand back and started to reach for another large coin.
“Not that one either!”
Johnny sat silently and then threw a dagger into the pirate’s forehead.
I will take them all.

Anima

Daddy gave me good advice when I‘d ask him. When I started investing, he urged “Plastics”. Later, he convinced me to hold off on marrying when I was infatuated with Scott Peterson. He said, “That boy ain’t right in the head”. Daddy nailed that one dead to rights. But when he said, “What ever you choose to make a career in, honey, make sure there is future growth potential”, I don’t think he had a clothing line in mind. After four years in the private sector, Bettina’s Big Boy Boxers is going public. Happily, business is busting at the seams.

Zachmann

When I was young back in the early two thousands they thought that we would never reside on other planets and brass Bikinis were just a sign of dated science fiction but here on our new planet they were a good idea at least in our summer because the planet is fulled with overly aggressive moths that eat any cloth or nonliving animal Hyde. In the winter we take the leather and cotton out of the vaults. Most of the women look great in their brass bikinis and they know it. My brass Lederhosen and brass hat are so styling.

TJ

My director is staring at me. He’s made a note. I’ll be hearing about this move for sure. Stage directions were John crosses to the bar and pours a cocktail, hands it off to Wendy with a flirtatious laugh. We’ve rehearsed it a thousand times. In the dress rehearsal, I get nervous. I trip on my ill-fitting shoes from the costume shop and instead of a flirtatious laugh I drive a stage knife into Wendy’s side. A frenzy of activity, but my wife will survive. And maybe stop sleeping with the director. I pour the cocktail and drink it myself.

Almo

She came to me in the middle of the night, a perfumed cloud slipping her perfect body next to me the way she did in the days before we started having the nightly fights.
The fights would be about jealousy. They would be about money. They would be about time spent, not spent, misspent. They were petty and they were spiteful.
“Would you like to keep fighting, or would you like to make love,” she said, her breath a throaty whisper that aroused me like nothing else.
I thought.
“Whatever you choose,” she said, “I’ll be gone in the morning.”

Norval Joe

“Here you go Johnny, some nice asparagus in brandy sauce. You like asparagus, don’t you?”
Johnny looked at his mother and just shook his head.
“Ok then, here’s some creamed spinach.”
He made a disgusted face and shook his head.
She pointed at the table and said, “You have all this food to choose from, just pick one you like and get on with it.”
He grabbed a handful of beets and threw them at the canvas on the isle. They slid slowly down leaving long red smears.
“Thank you Johnny, that will bring us $1000 at the art gallery.”

JRadimus

He awoke with a groan. “What a night,” he thought. His mind brought him memories through the haze. “Mm, ‘Lacee’.” Through his hangover, he marveled that someone so hot had gone home with him, but he wasn’t about to complain.
He got up without disturbing his impromptu bedmate. As he stumbled toward the bathroom, he tripped on something fabric. It wasn’t silky, lacy or sexy. It was beige, stretchy and utilitarian: Spanx. He scanned the room: push-up bra, falsies, auburn wig. He quickly realized that last night’s “hotness” was not in his bed, but in pieces all over his room.

Planet Z

Leroy’s attorney waved the lawbook. “My client chooses ‘Death by buffalo herd.’”
The judge sighed. “There are no buffalo. Hunted to extinction.”
“Exactly,” grinned the lawyer.
The case was fought well into the Supreme Court.
And, with the help of celebrities and environmentalists, he won.
The legislature closed the loophole, but Leroy was safe.
Or so he thought.
Geneticists extracted DNA from preserved buffalo hides and spliced them with bison to clone and breed them.
Years later, Leroy faced the stampede. “Cruel and unusual punishment!” he shrieked.
“Shouldn’t have chosen it then,” said the judge.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Ninety-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 Kilt!
The excellent theme music is by Guy David.
VOTING

Which stories were the best?
	Steven
	Zachmann
	Norval Joe
	TJ
	Justin
	Mick
	Katharina
	JRadimus
	Anima
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Steven

For a moment, I expected the boy to present a bear foot dressed in
Highland tartan. Instead, he held out a bloodied shovel.
“I kilt my Paw with this’n shovel.”
Cool filtered air blew into my isolation suit. I patted the boy’s
matted hair with a gloved hand. “Where’s your mother, son? Do you
have any brothers or sisters?”
The boy pointed to the locked root cellar. We both heard undead moans.
“Paw bit Maw and Sissy,” the boy said.
I drew my pistol. The boy stopped me with a hand, raised his shovel,
and went in.

Zachmann

Hey Man, would you ever wear a kilt? I probably wouldn’t since it looks too
much like a skirt but it might be useful in the summer when it is over one
hundred degrees Fahrenheit.I thought I saw a picture of you on Facebook
wearing a kilt in that festival and you looked fabulous? No, that is not me
that the Kilted for her Pleasure album singer guy. Is it true what they say
about what Scotsmen don’t wear beneath their kilts? Not here. Why? Because
the one rule here is to “remember as always keep wearing boxer briefs”.
Did you see that cat playing piano on youtube? I think I want to learn to
play a musical instrument but we don’t have a piano. We only have an
autoharp. But have you ever heard of a cat playing an autoharp? I heard of
guitars or drums but never an autoharp. I will be famous just like Marc
Gunn. I could have my songs played on his Songs for Cat Lovers Podcast. I
will be the best autoharp player ever but I will not wear a kilt like Marc.
What? Yes, I will play naked. Cats can do that.

Norval Joe

The ogre scraped the last bits of meat from the femur with his teeth. “The meats the sweetest close to the bone, me mum used to say. Ain’t that the truth.”
He threw the bone onto the putrefying pile in the corner and picked at his teeth with a piece of rib.
“Germans are too chewy,” he chuckled, “and the French, too cheesy. The Brits are always lean and tasty, and go down so bravely. But the Scots are the easiest to eat. You can tell which ones have the meatiest thighs, even beflore you peel off their little kilt.”
If I win…..killed

TJ

It’s not easy being the new kid.
You want nothing more to blend in. And despite your family’s stated objection to school uniforms, you manage.
However, as Adam McFairn discovered in his first day at St. Mary’s Academy, his family tartan blended in quite well.
Too well.
Indeed, his entire class was awash in green check. On the other boys, however, it was limited to vests on white shirts and black pants.
His kilt matched all the girls skirts perfectly.
And from the reflections in everyone’s patent leather shoes, he was the only one with no underwear.
Sigh. Stupid wind.

Justin

Kilts on the ground
Kilts on the ground
Lookin’ like a numpty with your kilts on the ground
With the dram in your gub
Tam o’shanter turned sideways
Kilts hit the ground
Call yourself the big yin
Lookin’ like an eejit
Walkin’ in the highlands with your kilts on the ground
Get it up, hey!
Get your kilts off the ground
Lookin’ like a numpty
Blethering awa with your kilts on the ground.
Get it up ye!
Get your kilts off the ground
Lookin’ like a numpty with your kilts on the ground
Lookin’ like a numpty with your kilts on the ground

Mick

They had been running for days without rest when they encountered the pit where
the track forked.
MacKinnon unfastened his belt, shrugged the heavy plaid from his shoulder,
dropping the whole kilt to the ground.
Stark naked, but for his shoes, he picked up the large square of cloth and shook
it out, lying it across the hole and securing it in place with heavy stones at
the edge and dirt to camouflage the surface.
Minutes later, standing looking down at the body of their pursuer, neck broken
at the bottom of the pit, MacKinnon declared, “Aye, I killt him.”

Katharina

Her hands were around his back, feeling his strong body through the black
shirt. When moved down to his waist, she could feel the leather belt that
kept his kilt together. Smiling, she stopped kissing him, and slowly went
to her knees. With her hands running down his sides, feeling the soft
fabric of the kilt between her fingers, she soon looked the sporran right
in the eyes. Proving that he was the true Scotsman that he claimed to be,
she was pleasantly surprised to find so much as _nothing_ under his kilt.
She smiled even wider, lifted the kilt and….

JRadimus

“Does anyone have anything for Sharing Time?” Miss Carson asked, hoping foul-mouthed Marcus didn’t. She sighed as his hand rose. “Marcus. Would you like to share something?”
“You betcher a-“
“It’s ‘Yes, Ma’am’, Marcus.”
“Yes, Ma’am. Yesterday, Pa was shovelin’ horse shi-”
“Manure, Marcus.”
“Sorry, Ma’am – manure. Anyway, the horse didn’t like him standing behind her a-”
“Her hindquarters, Marcus.”
“Yes, Ma’am – hindquarters. So, she kicked him in the bal-”
“Groin, Marcus!”
“Sorry, Ma’am – groin. He fell back and landed on an over-turned milk stool. The leg went right up his a-”
“Rectum, Marcus! Rectum!”
“Rectum? It darn-near kilt ‘im.”

Anima

Highlanders have tried to integrate contemporary culture with their colorful Scottish traditions. For instance, shepherds spend months out on the moors, but stay connected with home and hearth with their blackberrys. Morning porridge has been superseded by scientifically balanced protein and carbohydrate energy bars. The most egregious trespass however, is the replacement of village wedding gatherings with wacky 20th century rites. Young women collect the week prior to the blessed event to play chubby bunny and design dreadful kilts out of toilet paper. The lassies don’t even tot whisky any more, but rather swill California chardonnay. Have they no pride?

Planet Z

You never ask a Scotsman what he keeps under his kilt.
But I ain’t no gentleman, so I tell ye.
I keep a pair of penguins under there.
Rescued the little buggers when I was a scientist working at the South Pole.
I tried to get the zoo to take ’em, but the zoo’s got all the penguins they need. They was gonna feed them to the sea lions.
Not with my penguins you do, laddie!
So, since then, I been keeping them under my kilt to protect them.
I also wear thick underpants because those buggers’ beaks be sharp!