Weekly Challenge – Page 88 – The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Weekly Challenge #109 – Jimmy Buffet

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Nine, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Thomas, who is going for broke with Jimmy Buffet.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

The rain patters cold on my shoulders, the post hole digger, the body
of the bird wrapped gently in a Sponge Bob pillowcase. Sarah’s soft
sobs are muffled by Martha’s torso, my daughter’s arms tightly
wrapped around her mother.
I am finishing when Sarah touches me, the last clod softly packed down
with my booted foot.
“Daddy, is Heaven something like Margaritaville?”
I look at Martha; her look away and the mention of Bob’s favorite song
says more than a strange man’s jeans in the wash.
“No,” I say, crying with her as Martha goes inside, “It’s nothing like that.”

TOM

The skin burned like hell. It filled the arm from the elbow to the shoulder. The salt shaker, the blender, the parrot, the stupid grinning face of Jimmy Buffet. Of course it was a beauty, a Caribbean Cute, how it got there he hadn”t a clue. He had been upending 151s with a guy name Raoul in a drive by the docks in Trinidad. The last thing he remembered was the tail end of a Bembe this girl name horse with those vacant eyes. Some say that woman”s to blame, but he knew its his own dam fault. Fuckn “. Zombies.

SPACE TURTLE

The sun shone from the sky onto the hardened face of a pirate. The pirate stared across the horizon as he reminisced the pirates life that had been for him as he stood on the bow of his ship, The Jimmy. The ship was buffeted by the crashing of his ship’s wake into the wake of his sister ship, The Jolly Mon, who sailed along beside, sea spray sparkling into the air. Their goal was a salty piece of land they would call home. The pirate captain was looking to make this his last voyage, for he was fifty.

THOMAS

Leaving the banana republics, A son of a sailor, needed a drink. The Tiki Bar was open, so he ordered a volcano. At the bar was a smart woman, in a real short skirt.
He asked the barman, “Who’s the blond?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” he said.
“Fine.”
Smoothing his pencil thin mustache, he sidled over, boat drink in hand and said, “My lovely lady, why don’t we get drunk and screw?”
In a baritone voice she said, “Honey, I’ll take you on a trip around the sun.”
The barman snickered.
Breathe in, breathe out: move on.

CALEB

Hello?
Mr. James Buffet?
Yeah that”s me man come on in, want a beer?
Its time
Aw c”mon!
Its time!
I got all the money in the world, can”t we make another deal?
No! Even in hell we aren”t that cruel. Come with me.
Okay
Step into the limo sir.
Aw hey! It”s Michael Jackson! How you doin, boy?
Hello James, about as well as you I suppose, when Britney wakes up, say hello to her too.
Hey driver? Is this the reason musicians always seem to die in threes?
Kind of but it applies to you three as well.

MIKE

The cutter Jimmy Buffet cruised the warm Caribbean waters, her radar turning ceaselessly. Until a few years ago, the area had been filled with wealthy tourists lazily cruising among the small islands that dotted the area. Rumors of raiders, though, launching deadly attacks under the cover of island music – broadcast from the ship’s speakers, of all things – had caused that major revenue stream to all but dry up.
“Skipper!” came the cry from the bridge. “Radar return two miles to the northwest. Looks like a 35 footer.”
“Come about – close from astern,” the captain called, reaching for a calypso CD.

ANIMA

Imagine 4 college girls in a Ford Fiesta, escaping a midwestern March.
Destination: Key West. A Jimmy Buffet cassette loops over and over.
Packing list: flip flops, bathing suit, dress. Check. Battery operated blender and tequila. Check and double check.
No one has money. Meals are bar snacks and the charity of frat boys. Everything that can be charged to Daddy’s gas card, is. We sleep on the beach while we tan.
Tami goes missing She reappears at dawn, with a new tattoo, a boys address crumpled in her hand.
Parrots cackle as we head north, nursing well earned hangovers.

MISFITINA

Thin eggshell stripes framed the cool hell. Dry blonde hair was caught in
the hinge of a bright blue beach chair, and the glaze of mid-day reassured
him of absence, detachment. His phantom hands were sticky from sugar,
Cuervo, and blood. It didn’t breathe, and the silence compounded into a
chorus, damning, damning… yet *Margaritaville* was thunderous above them,
on the boardwalk. And fuck if he wouldn’t love a cheeseburger, grazing in
the sand with the Master of Parrots. As the body and the tide rudely
obscured the circus scents, this anthem of regret, apathy, oblivion, served
as *Amazing Grace*..

CRAIG

Come Monday I”ll be heading to paradise for a cheese burger.
You may think me crazy for traveling for a hunk of cow but I”m here to
tell you it”s all about location.
Now I wouldn”t ever go to North Dakota for a Margaretta even if Jimmy
Buffet stirred and shook it just for me.
I would on the other hand travel to Cuba to find the trail of the pencil
thin mustache.
So if this story has got you feeling blue then jump right up on the
coconut telegraph and send me a dot and a couple of dashes

ELISSON

Seven-year-old Evan”s face glowed with happiness. This was the best
birthday party ever!
All his friends were there, having the time of their lives. Mom and Dad
were enjoying the party as well, pounding down Margaritas with the other
grownups while the kids played party games and wolfed custom-made ice
cream sundaes.
Yes, ice cream sundaes. This place not only provided the ice cream, hot
fudge, caramel and butterscotch sauces, maraschino cherries, whipped
cream, and chopped nuts; there was row after row of multicolored
sprinkles to choose from.
Screw Chucky Cheese, thought Evan. Jimmy Buffett”s Jimmy Buffet was
waaaay better.

ALMO

The woman at the end of the bar had too much makeup and too little idea how
to use it. Her smile was lopsided, as if she couldn’t make the full effort.
Her top had been tight once. It was too tight now.
A lesser known Jimmy Buffett ballad floated through the tired little bar.
The stool beside her was open and I sat there. I bought two drinks. When she
started to talk I handed her one. When she tried to speak again, I lifted
my glass in silent toast and she drank.
We both looked down. Mom smiled.

TERRY TEE

It’s been two weeks since I retired from my job of thirty-five years and in thirty-five years some things change, but then again, some things don’t.
As an example, I’ve been going to Jimmy’s barber shop for the last twenty-five years and no other barber has touched my hair in all that time. One thing Jimmy does is ask me each time how I want it cut. Oh sure, each year there’s a little less to cut on top, but he still asks, “How do you want the top Terry?”
Now I say, “Well, Jimmy, buff-it to a high sheen.”

DAPHNE

He took me to Paris, not in France but One Particular Harbor this 40 year old pirate knew. When we docked, the Last Mango Bar was selling Boat Drinks but we wanted Cheeseburgers and headed to the Paradise Grill that our friend with the Pencil Thin Mustache owned. We ate, drank and joked about Growing Older but Not Up and laughed at how We Are the People Our Parents Warned Us About. When we left for the night I look down and picked up a salt shaker turn to the bar and yelled “Hey Jimmy, were you looking for this?”

LAIEANNA

For years, Jimmy Peterson spent every day eating at his favorite Chinese buffet. A conveyor belt of wait staff brought plate after plate to his table which was not typical service at a serve yourself restaurant, except 862 pounds Jimmy hadn’t left his bench in two years. Still, he served a purpose, greeting other customers with praise and jokes, using his size, about the great food. Nights he slept stationary like his days. Before closing, the owner would throw a hat on Jimmy’s head and a blanket over his massive body with the words “Security Guard” stitched across the fabric.

GUY DAVID

It was a buffet. Zelda neatly put the cutlery on the table, her finest china. Jimmy, her husband, watched in horror, mixed with strange fascination. He knew they would have to leave soon, but Zelda was treating her guests to the best of standards. She always liked things perfect that way.
The guests started trickling in. They sat at the table and gobbled all the food greedily. What started out as order ended up as chaos. Zelda didn’t mind though. As Jimmy reluctantly went to pack the suitcases, the guests dropped one by one as the poison gobbled their system.

PLANET Z

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that people take things too far.
I know these Jimmy Buffet fans who run this bar. Nothing but Margaritas and the noisiest blenders in the world.
Which, is a good thing. You see, these folks go overboard with the term “parrothead” by putting an actual parrot head in each pitcher of margaritas.
Rows and rows of cages filled with the damn birds are stacked in the basement of the bar.
They could use parakeets. They’re cheaper, tastes just like parrot.
Nope.
I stick to bottled beer. And fried parrot fingers.
Delicious!

Weekly Challenge #108 – Gold

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Eight, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Planet Z, who is going for broke with…
It’s Gold.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

THOMAS

Melvin Goldberg was his name, but his fellow demons called him “Gold”. He was impatient. Plenty of work still laid ahead of him, but Gold loved his job. The campaigns were in full swing with everybody eager to sell their soul.
Just a flash of his smarmy smile and they were Gold’s. Whatever promises he had to make he would. Democrat; Republican; hell, even Jedi! They would cast principles aside and sign on the dotted line. Winners and losers didn’t matter. He was, after all, in sales, not fulfillment. That was somebody else’s department.
So many politicians, so little time.

MCJC

Hip wears silver, family wears gold. She chose copper bangles, colored glass beads. On holidays she would receive gold hoops or rings, tennis bracelets, charms. She dreamt of melting them down into a bar as a door stop. Meaningless. Save, Lame’ tops, frosted hair, big broaches at JC Penney. Save, time spent before growing apart. Each unworn piece, treasure of mall trips, and distant sisterhood. Friends, adorned in silver and hemp shirts, said titanium lasts forever. Yet gold survives, fluid like memory and love, familiar in the glow, the ancient desire to capture the sun, the warm, and the good.

JUSTIN

Ehh you, Golden Boy, dat’s right, you. I’ve had enough of your shenanigans… makin’ my boys disappear… I don’t know where they go, but I don’t believe you turn criminals into people that help the poor, and me and my bat here are going to settle this disagreement.
The thug swung the bat. The man with a yellow ingot symbol on his chest grabbed it. The bat turned gold, as did the man that held it. The Golden Boy then melted the body down, forming it into golden bricks, which he then sold, donating the money to the poor.

TOM

Bill Ray slid across the vinyl in the booth. Alma Sue fingered the crystal salt shaker. The smell of coffee embraced the acrid tinge of sweet crude. Billy flipped the edge of the tiny black velvet box. The glow in Alma”s eyes reflected the gold and diamonds his token of love. Irene glided between the couple and deposed a piece of absinthe pie. “Oh Billy such opulence,” purred Alma sliding the golden ring onto her finger. The last rays of a golden sun was setting on loves labor lost. The tiny gold cross upon her neck glowed. “Oh Fuck “””””..Zombies”

STEPHEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

The machine goes ping and she stifles a laugh. They loved that movie.
His hands are cold in hers, so she is not surprised when the rhythmic
ping changes to a whine, then to the chaos of nurses and doctors
performing a full code. She allows herself to be ushered out to the
sterile comfort of the waiting room.
Couples fight silently overhead, the trash tv thankfully muted. Her
fingers caress the worn gold of her ring. She wonders if she will
wear it once he has gone.
She sees the doctor in the doorway, and stands to meet him.

HOTSPUR

How do I explain? I had no clues to his identity. To me, he was a wandering drunk that passed out in my rose garden in his own vomit. A man in my position has to show munificence. It”s expected.
So the servants made inquiries and sent him back where he came from.
The magnificent gift I received in return.. well.. I”m set for life, I thought. It was delightful transforming mundane into fabulous. Then I got hungry. And, well, you know the rest.
What will I tell her mother? And yet, she makes a lovely statue, does she not?

EVA

At last a small cove yielded up a crescent moon of smooth sand.
The crossing had been harrowing and the coast, after months at sea, taunted
them for days with impenetrable cliff walls. But the promise of a new land
of gold and riches kept them at the ship”s rail.
Ernesto leapt from the boat into the foaming surf, ignoring the water
streaming into his leather boots. He scrambled up the rocks and gazed at the
expanse of small yellow flowers that carpeted the land to the line of
distant trees.
“Capitan!” he shouted, grinning, “We have found the gold!”

ALMO

The robber stood in darkness, flashlight in his teeth, and admired the exquisite inlay on the lid of the box. He ran his hand over the gleaming wood. He didn’t know wood, but it felt expensive, smooth and warm to the touch.
What jewelry would the rich have?
He opened the box and was awed by the way the contents sparkled under his light. The diamond earrings were first to be plucked. Then the necklace. Antique. Valuable.
Finally, he took the gold wedding band and let the lid of the casket drop as he slipped away into the night.

MIKE

Thousands have killed for it; millions, possibly, have died for it. In leaf form, it graces countless domes at all levels of government, as well as untold numbers of universities and church buildings. Few things are as beautiful as the gilt accents seen in pottery, porcelain, and glass, as well as on the edges of the pages of a fine book. I speak of the most desired of metals – gold.
But the gold that stirs my heart and fires my blood are the flecks that dance in the eyes of my one true love, every time she smiles at me.

Johnathan stands next to the creek and watches the water wash through his homemade sluice.
His left hand, holding the long wooden handle, pushes and pulls causing the wooden box to rock gently left and right.
Johnathan’s eyes, ever watchful of the gravel in the bottom of the box, glints at his first sign of color.
His right hand, quickly diving into the water, grasp the nugget and lifts it to the sky.
The nugget sparkles in the sun.
Behind Johnathan’s back Ellen climbs onto the big stallion with the dark stranger and rides away.
Truly, this is fool’s Gold.

ANIMA

“Here you go,” says Jason, holding out the glass amphora to his cousin, King AEetes. A metallic pinging emanates from the jar.
The arrogant youth prates on, “I’m ready to take over the throne, like you agreed to””
“What are you babbling on about?” Asks the king.
“You said, if I brought back the golden fleas, I’d get my throne back. You never thought I would go all the way to the gates of Hades and pluck them from Cerberus. Man, does he have stinky dog breath”.”
“You Greek goof, clean your ears. You’re to bring me the GOLDEN FLEECE!”

GUY DAVID

Chaketo have really grown. Mama Chirapa always worried about him, so thin and pale. “Why can’t I go and play on the surface?” he would always ask. “The humans are suspicious of strangers” Mama Chirapa would say, “we can’t risk them knowing about us.” Chaketo could never understand this, why would anyone be suspicious of anyone else? “When I grow up, I would find a way to earn their trust” he thought. Meanwhile, The Chirapa mind the gold from the dipper underground tunnels in order to keep their cloaking devices operational. They really didn’t want those Humans to discover them.

CRAIG

Walking into the local vegetarian restaurant I felt tension, was my leather jacket setting them on edge.
Placing my order I smiled, looking deeply into eyes that didn”t look back.
My order of a simple brown rice bowl came with a bonus, a side of silence, no charge.
In the restroom HOWL played in endless loop. I washed my hands mouthing
“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,”
“who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars”
“who cut their wrists three times”
I stood looking at my gold watch wondering about different roles, then left.

ELISSON

Theodoric was in trouble. Deep trouble.
As an up-and-coming young alchemist at the Magisterium, he had boasted openly of his ability to turn base metal into gold. Too openly…
…for when the Regent”s men overheard him, they were swift to pass word to their master.
Now he shared a fetid cell with a heap of leaden ingots. Transmute or die, they had told him.
Sweating, trembling, he closed his eyes, tonelessly reciting the incantation.
An ill-timed stutter on the last word added fifteen protons and twenty-seven neutrons too many, whereupon the Magisterium, along with the surrounding countryside, ceased to exist.

TERRENCE

Over the years many had feared Raoul. Many trembled at his mere presence. People fled from him. He was after all the most feared of all his brothers, even if he had been written out of the ‘Good’ book.
There was, however, the one time all that changed. People were not running or quivering at his presence. They were cheering him. This had not been his intent. He had hoped that his actions would lead to the damnation of millions. He would have never guessed people would be happy that he turned all those hopeful singers in to Golden Idols.

PLANET Z

For months, we sack and pillaged the New World, plundering the riches of Empire and carting away tons of finest Gold.
Cortez check his math.
“Did we plunder six or seven cities of gold?” he ask.
Some of the men say six.
Some say seven.
One say eight, but Pedro, one who say eight, he not so good at math.
“Do we go back?” I ask.
“No,” say Cortez. “We have enough. It give something to go back to, no?”
We load the ships, raise the sails, and head back to Cleveland.
So simple to rob Canada these days, yes?

Weekly Challenge #107 – The Chair

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And 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 selected by Craig from Wash The Bowl, who is going for broke with…
It’s The Chair.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

PLANET Z

Baby Bear looked at the shattered splinters of wood that were once his favorite chair and he wept bitter tears.
“Someone ate my porridge and broke my chair!” he growled. “I will have my revenge!”
“Son, don’t get carried away,” said Papa Bear.
Baby Bear would have none of it. “When I am through with them, death will be considered a mercy!”
The outburst woke Goldilocks up. Heart pounding with fear, she leapt out of Baby Bear’s bed and ran for the window.
It was painted shut.
Heavy paw footfalls on the stairs. Angry, muttered threats under his breath.
“REVENGE!”

FREEREED

cummings says… the artist is like the circus performer who sits on top of three balanced chairs. the three chairs are three facts of his life… “I am an artist, I am a man, I am a failure.” my chair is an old wood swivel from the brother in laws garage. in that garage is art made by mikey who was murdered at age eleven. They never caught the killer. i think this chair knows who killed mikey This chair knows me. “I am an artist, I am a woman. I am a failure.” Well, Off to the therapist now

RICH PALMER

A white room. A simple white room with no embellishments. One should look for windows, but there is no point. It is simply a white room. No curtains, no shelving, no tables. Just a white room. And the chair.
The chair that sits in the very center of the plain, white room.
The chair is nondescript. The chair has no ornaments. There are no intricately carved legs. There is no fine upholstery. The legs are wood. The back is wood. The seat is wood. It is simply a chair.
I sit in the chair. The white room has gone dark.

GUY DAVID

“Address the chair” said the head table. “I beg to differ” uttered the chest of drawers but the cupboard shushed her. The respectable window curtain walked in. An appreciative silence filled the room. The sofa moaned. “I think she ate too much last night” whispered a bed to a cabinet. The cabinet just shrugged and said “that sofa would be very hungry when there is no food left. There is a limited amount of unsuspecting people around you know.” The chair cleared his throat and said “We hold these truths to be self-evident: That all furniture are created equal…”

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

It first creaked as she rocked in summer’s heat, waiting for the baby.
Dad fixed it, but she wouldn’t sit in it until he made it squeak
again.
She rocked through my breastfeeding and tantrums. I showed up once
with teenage bravado and a cigarette. She stopped. I put the
cigarette out and heard the rhythmic creak again.
I missed it when I left for college. Squeaks lulled me to sleep when
I returned for Dad’s funeral.
It’s silent now. My wife asks if I’m okay.
The wind moves the rocker, and for a second I pretend that I am.

THOMAS

The chair, impressive once, sits in the corner. The center of the home for decades; but for several years, silent. After thirty years of marriage, the chair to the right of the once formidable recliner, is now the center of life.
The diminutive woman sits stoic: hands clasped. Behind her expression, sits tears, waiting to fall again. ‘Til death do us part was their promise to each other. However, she knew he wasn’t gone. Alone in the silence, looking at his chair, she could still see him. Faintly… briefly… but still he was there; a memory, a love, a promise.

EVA

Alma walked by that door a hundred times a day and even if she didn”t break
her stride, some part of her always lingered there for a thudding heartbeat
or more. Sometimes she”d pause for a moment to reach toward the knob and
feel its warm burnished surface, or run a finger down the dark, grooved wood
of the doorframe. She didn”t have the key. But it wasn”t like she didn”t
know what was in there: The room was completely empty save a single heavy
wooden chair. She shuddered slightly and glanced at the clock on the wall.

Near the access hatch in the deck, under a dim red overhead light, the chair sits.
A slender figure occupies the chair and has done so, unmoving for long ages.
The skin of the face, the texture of leather, is pulled tightly about the skull, the eyes nonexistent.
Holding a short wooden staff, sharpened to a point at one end, he appears ready to offer a challenge to anyone climbing from below.
John 316 grasp the last rung and emerges, only to slip and almost fall back at the sight of this ancient guardian.
The corpse grins with sightless eyes.

TOM

It took Allan and his guys two months to overhaul the Cronomotive. It was deemed too dangerous for Maria to return to the timepad. On departure day only Allan was present bidding Arnesto farewell. As Cervante moved through time a jolt rocked him backwards. When the time machine came to a rest there was Allan next to him PM Arnesto Arroway the third.
“Tell me of Maria, Allan.”
Quartemain turned away.
“Come with me grandfather.”
A chair was set out next to a statue
of Maria tearing open the easy bake.
“She did this to save her students.”
Arnesto wept.

PLANET X

“The Chair has been watching you and wants your resignation on his desk now” Stella calmly stated to Frank the file clerk.
“Why me?” Frank retorted.
“Well, let’s see”. ” Stella replied.
“You come in late and leave early”
“You spend half your day around the coffee pot”
“You take three hour lunches”
“You’re lazy”
“You’re incompetent”
“You lie and cheat your fellow employees on the football pool”
“You’ve sexually harassed almost every female here, along with a couple of the men.”
“Oh, and by the way, Frank” Stella continued
“Starting on Monday, you’re hired back as a mid-level manager”

ANIMA

Management has always made an effort in improving workforce motivation.
The last Friday of the month, we gather in the board room for supermarket cake and a corporate cheer”
Recently, We’ve been playing ” Musical Chairs”.
The boss plays music, and we circle like a pony ride at a county fair. When it stops, we scramble for a seat. The job on the nameplate before you is your new post, until the next time we need “better morale”.
Each month, there are more jobs and fewer chairs.
Their plan is working! With the mortgage due, I find myself very motivated”

ALMO

As he stood at the kitchen counter and slathered extra mayo on the bread, John heard the television announcement rather than saw it.
The name was familiar — a young, fit athlete. He had died of a heart attack while running.
John took his plate into the living room and sat heavily in his La-Z-Boy. He leaned back, picked up the remote and changed to the football game.
“You never hear on the news of anyone having a heart attack while sitting in his recliner, eating a sandwich and watching the game,” he thought.
John smiled, relaxed and ate.

CRAIG

“It”s something and yet nothing” Angie said, “what do you mean something yet nothing” I asked? She smiled saying” the peace you”re feeling right now.”
A terror overcame me, she knew what I was feeling.
I started jogging in place trying to slow my mind as my thoughts assaulted me from every direction.?
A hard stick struck my head with a loud whack. Angie grabbed my arm yelling ” open your eyes, you”re indulging your own fears, open your eyes.”
My eyes opened to see Angie completely alone in a field of opposites, offering me a chair in which to sit.

CALEB

He had a plan” a Brilliant Plan! But if only he could be heard over the screaming horde and the stupid band that would not stop playing! He could save them all” or at least most of those who couldn”t fit in the lifeboats. He knew about buoyancy. He knew a thing or two about structural architecture and if the remaining passengers could get all the furniture fastened to the outside, he could keep this thing afloat. But no matter how he screamed and tried to explain, he couldn”t convince anyone that rearranging deck chairs would help on the Titanic.

SOUGENT

The Chair.
It sits there, in the center.
Sometimes, it’s the focus of a great deal of attention.
Some call it the hot seat.
To look at it one might consider it unremarkable.
But it’s not what it looks like that makes it special.
Some see it as a symbol of power, others a curse.
Many desire it, but few have what it takes to sit there.
For him, it’s where he belongs. If there is such a thing as destiny, then his is to sit right there.
For Captain James Kirk, The Chair is the center of the universe.

LAIEANNA

Thesus walked up fifteen marble steps, bowed, and placed his offerings before the ornate chair of the goddess Nahmudida. It represented her place of power. Thesus opened the blue silk pouch to present, for his deity, two apples, rosemary sprigs, a lock of his daughter’s hair, and five gold coins. The priest standing at his side held, in eyesight, a ceremonial knife. Slowly, Thesus took the weapon, but was quick to slice it against his skin. The blood poured down as he prayed. “Please welcome my dying daughter into your house. I shall take her place wandering in the wasteland.”

Weekly Challenge #106 – Cereal

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Six, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Caleb, who is going for broke with…
It’s Cereal.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

STEVEN

For a while after the attempt, everything was spectacular. It was as
if a sensory grime was vomited with the sleeping pills and charcoal,
and left behind in the ER’s biohazard bag. He drank in the sky’s
shifting shades of blue, the smell of grass and gasoline on suburban
weekends. He even savored the oaty richness of generic cereal
scraping down his throat.
He was discharged, but doctors warned that relapse was often subtle.
“People feel fine but don’t notice the symptoms returning.”
He wouldn’t forget. He promised he would be back to see them — when
cereal was boring again.

DAVID

In last weeks episode, our heroes put an end to the murderous rein of Freetown’s sheriff. By fabricating evidence that convinced the town of his child molesting, drug dealing, terrorist ways, they were able to incite a riot in which he was trampled to death by deputies fleeing the scene. What more can two runaways living in sin do to free our town from the violent thugs we call government?
“Captain Crunch?”
“Ate it! Shredded Wheat, Pullman car,” Josh from above their abandoned caboose.
Join us next week to discover the biting answer to Missy’s immortal question????
“Got milk?”

GUY DAVID

Old Mama Chirapa was looking at little Chaketo. Since they landed, he got much thinner and the lights seems to have gone out of his young eyes. They where supposed to land, colonize this planet, only, it wasn’t as deserted as they thought it was. There where creatures living here, called themselves “Humans” and where suspicious of strangers. The Chirapa had to go into hiding. Now, Mama Chirapa sometimes wondered if they would ever see the light of day.
“Eat your cereal, little Chaketo. You have a whole world to conquer, and you have to be strong enough”, she said.

TOM

The impact from the blow sent Quatermain tumbling over the steamer truck. Eight handguns trained on Cervantes head. Maria grabbed the lid of the Easy Bake. Order returned to the Hub.
“Ok my choice of words was ill composed.” Said Quatermain spiting out blood. “Let me show you our prodigy.” Allan led them to a clean and well-lit place, 40 children sitting about eating Captain Crunch.
“We call them
the League of Extraordinary Children.
Mave they are your students.”
“No.” protested Cervantes
“Sorry R it”s already written in the Book.”
Maria smiled and stated
“Lesson One no sugar coat cereal.”

ANIMA

No word from the cattle station in days; Although it’s remote, there’s usually radio chatter…
So I’m going to have me a look.
Jeez ” will you look at this?
They’ve all gone and copped it. There’s no whole pieces left anywhere. Just a jumble of body parts, hooves and bones. I can’t tell cow from cowboy”
At the feed bunk, I sift my fingers through the remaining grains.
Bloody Cheap Owner, supplying tainted feed. Ergot’s an ugly character.
First ruining the farmers’ crop, then driving the cattle that eats it raving mad.
This cereal killer is truly a serial killer.

TERRY

Police Detective Johnson read this week’s crime report:
On Tuesday, as a Kellogg’s truck pulled up to the dock of a grocery store, it exploded into flames that shot one hundred feet into the air.
On Wednesday, it was a Fruity Pebbles truck that exploded across town at another grocery store.
On Thursday, a Cheerios truck was ambushed and totally destroyed.
On Friday, a not so lucky, Lucky Charms truck was the subject of a bombing.
At the scene of each crime a spoon emblem and “United” had been drawn.
Yup, they defiantly had another cereal killer on the loose.

PLANET X

Little Johnny always loved his Alpha-Bits, he sometimes would pick out letters from the cereal bowl and spell out words on the table, shocking his mother.
Today was different, the cereal started to form words by themselves, even before he picked them from the bowl.
At first they were simple words like “today”, “you” and “will”, but when “die” formed in the milk, Johnny started to get scared, scared enough not to notice the droplet of blood that came from the knife his mother had just shoved into his ear.
“Can you spell-out fuck you now Johnny” his mother said.

CRAIG

The incessant knocking at the bedroom door abruptly collapsed my dreaming.
Rubbing my eyes I looked up to see four girl scouts at the foot of my bed.
Before I could speak the tall one said ” it”s boxtop day, you promised to help.”
Pulling the covers over my head I mumbled “boxtop day indeed,” adding “give me 2 minutes.”
Downstairs there were at least twenty girl scouts all staring at me. An amused Ellen handed me coffee pointing to the door, I mouthed “what no cereal?”
I motioned the drivers to head out, the great boxtop collection was on.

SOUGENT

He gazed down at the spreading pool of blood.
“A good breakfast is what you need”, he said, “not that powerbar”
She was asking for it, really, just like all the rest were.
The voices kept whispering in his head, telling him what to do.
He knows he should be sorry for killing them all, but the voices just keep whispering….
“Just follow my nose, it always knows”
“I’m koo koo for cocoa puffs”
Slipping a small box of Frosted Flakes under her hand, he mutters “They’re Great!”
“In other news today, the famed “cereal killer” claims a new victim”

THOMAS

Damn food nazis, been out of work for three years with no end in sight. The libs say we can’t sell to kids, but what about us, I mean, who’s going to buy a vacuum from an elf or a tiger? Sure, the Cap’n got a book deal and a cameo in the next Pirates of the Caribbean flick, but for most we’re just trying to survive. Bitter? Damn straight I’m bitter. Snap and Pop opened a gym, then said “threes a crowd, goodbye”. Bitches! Me? Well… maybe I could ask that annoying leprechaun to tend bar at his pub.

JD WHITE

John 316, fist bruised and aching, stood before the locked hatch.
The hot cereal of breakfast an hour before sat, a hard cold lump in his gut.
Tears that had formed now begin to seep from his eyes.
It had been a trick.
More than a trick, a trap.
His frailty and his fear of rejection used against him.
His brothers would, if they had not already, report his transgression.
They would be rid of him one way or another.
John 316 saw clearly that he had failed the Word.
Turning, his hands trembling, he grasp the ladders first rung.

TERRENCE

As the zombies continued to shuffle by Raoul and the witherhunch, Raoul thought about the event of the past few months. In its first draft the “good” book had described all the warning signs. However, it continued to amaze him on how badly the book had been edited over the years. He had not been the only victim of some priest’s edits. Maybe, if they had been a little less selective they would have recognized the sign when the podcaster spread out into other things; but who would have thought that cereal.isfullofcrap.com would bring about the end of the world.

LAIEANNA

I’m a half ass low carberer. Eggs, meat, cheese, and vegetables are the staple of an Atkins diet and even that requires limits. Eggs now make me nauseous. Meat easily grosses me out. Cheese I like but there is only so much you can eat in a sitting. Oh, and vegetables get really boring to chew on. So, on this diet, I crave things that I didn’t care about when I was fatter. Fruit is a treat and chips are salty goodness. And for a poptart, strudels kid, cereal sounds like heaven. Pour me a bowl of Raisin Nut Brand…please.

HOTSPUR

I grin as another spoon of Museli enters Aunt Doris’ gaping maw.
There you are.
“I love you, Woodrow” she bleets, mouth brimming with EuroCereal.
I grin at her. Carefully, now. Chew with mouth closed, Auntie. We don”t want an accident.
She chews, blank eyes unfocused. Dribble of milk down one side of mouth. Hodgson enters with juice and a red rose on a tray. He is brisk, obsequious. He serves Auntie, slowly raises and glances at me with a look of mingled loathing and hatred. I grin back, pleasantly.
There you are, Auntie. Another Bite?
“I love you, Woodrow”.

MIKE

The man always marveled at the variety of cereals. Puffs, pops, flakes, little donuts and – his personal favorite – sugary ABCs. His mom always said, he had learned to spell just by pushing the little letters around in his bowl for hours on end.
The emergency horns’ blaring finally stopped, but the strobes still flashed. Taking another look at the legs sticking out of the hopper, he popped a glazed uppercase “Q” into his mouth. Sure, it could be dangerous working here, just like working in any other kind of factory, he supposed. He couldn”t imagine working anyplace as tasty, though.

CALEB

In the mid seventies General Mills tried replacing Lucky the Leprechaun with Waldo the Wizard. Lucky had been making unreasonable demands in his contract negotiations. How they expected a cereal company to enslave Donna Summer in the first place, was never explained. He got into Frankenberry and before long he and Toucan Sam got banned from all the Hollywood clubs. Tony the Tiger said, “You”re Wasted! You Better get to Rehab!” After rooming with Sonny who was coo coo for crystal meth too he eventually came out clean and sober only to be replaced again, this time by a cartoon.

PLANET Z

I’m sure there’s people out there who envy the fact that I get breakfast in bed every morning.
Best thing to wake up to, right?
Not around here.
You see, instead of bringing me coffee and bacon and waffles and pancakes and maple syrup, she throws a box of cereal in my face and yells at me to wake the fuck up.
God, I wish it was like the old days.
Sure, there wasn’t any coffee. Or bacon. Or waffles. Or pancakes.
But, man, was there maple syrup. And where it was, I’ll leave that to your imagination.
Bon appetit.

Weekly Challenge #105 – Taboo

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One 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 selected by Evamoon, who is going for broke with…
It’s Taboo.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

CALEB

Alright fellas, listen up! This bread is my body. And this grape jelly, this is my blood; my sweet, congealed blood. And this peanut butter is my uh” my holy spirit? Put them all together like so and”
mmmm” I am DELICIOUS!
Wow, you have got to try this!
“but uh Jesus, we can”t have bread right now, it”s Passover!”
Oh come on, that old taboo? Don”t be so superstitious, Pete.
“But Jesus, won”t your father smite us?”
It”s the holidays, I got my boys right here, I”ve got this awesome sandwich, what could go wrong?
“Praetorian Guard! Open up!”

ALMO

Traffic on the beltway was a maze stuffed with hundreds of rats. The civic cut me off to move three car-lengths. When I got beside him, I flipped him the bird and felt better.
The bar was hot and crowded. They guy next to me elbowed my beer, sloshing it on my shirt. “Asshole,” I said. I felt better.
The convenience store line crawled. The kid in front of me was turning out his pants pockets looking for change. “C’mon,” I said, finally exasperated. “You’re holding everyone up.”
I felt better. Then he turned around and shot me.

GUY DAVID

Here at Taboo unlimited, we concentrate on creating the most modern and up to date taboos, ranging from technology driven superstitions to new age health food misconceptions. Right now, we are working on a very special set of taboos, ordered especially by a wealthy martian tycoon. We use the latest technology to create this taboo that makes people think robots are immoral and deplorable. It’s amazing what you could do using social networking and other web 2.0 techniques. It works like clockwork, only, we just discovered clockworks are the weapon of robots. I think we might be done for it.

TOM

Maria set the easy bake in front of the steamer truck. Allan opened the lid to reveal wafer upon wafer of titanium conductors. “Here”s the deal Mave we will bleed the time goo you got in that tin into the Hub and up to the topside. It”ll take about 35 years. According to the Book it”s got a steep draw back, major fertility drop.” “What”s this going to cost Allan?” ask the wearier time travel. “Inter family mating.” Cervantes Victorian sensible heaved at the breach in taboo. “In fact you might want to leave a little something before you go.”

TERRY TEE

Launch Director Haroldson pushed his secretary’s slim body off his, wrapped a towel around himself, while turning up the sound on the TV. He heard the announcer speak of substandard workmanship and materials as being the main causes to the Phoenix’s demise. All of which, where traced back to the Chinese manufacturing plants that had won the rights to building the spacecraft’s landing module.
Well, that was nothing new, he thought, but as everyone knew, the current administration had made it taboo to criticize the Chinese in order to gain their support and their money for the mission to Mars.

EVAMOON

“I thought they”d be round, like apples!”
“Better than apples,” came a languid reply from the branches.
She peered into the dense foliage of the tree, trying to make out the
sinuous form hidden in the shadows. The branches were heavy with ripe fruit.
Her hand barely reached around the long, fleshy cylinder as she plucked it.
Its bulbous end released an unfamiliar aroma that filled her head.
“Would you like to know how to properly enjoy the fruit of this tree?”
She hesitated for a moment, but her appetite was stirred.
“I really shouldn”t.”
The long body uncoiled and rose. “It will be our little secret.”

PLANET X

As he paced along the HMS Resolution deck, Captain Cook stared at his first officer and shouted, “It’s tapu to eat that damn fruit?”
“No sir”, Lieutenant Clerke responded, “The chief said it was taboo or forbidden to eat the fruit from the sacred tree”
“Taboo or not, that fruit is essential to preventing scurvy amongst the crew, why look at Old Murduck Mahoney on the last voyage” Cook replied.
“Sir, the chief said, no one was to eat that fruit, and sir, they don’t have the taboo of making a sandwich out of me or you” Lieutenant Clerke replied.

John 316 steps into the corridor.
Behind him the hatch, with a quite click, slides closed.
His calloused feet absorb the cold of the steel deck as he shivers in the darkness, eyes adjusting.
To his left and right pitch black meet his searching gaze.
Before him, illuminated by the dull red glow of a bulb in the overhead, a ladder stretches upward into darkness.
The boys, his brothers, in cratch 17-C-34 had taunted him because of his frailty.
They had always forced him to their will.
Now they had dared him.
He had broken the first taboo.

CRAIG

Ellen glided through the patio door without a sound till she was almost touching me.
Placing her hand on my shoulder she turned me to gaze deeply into her eyes, her hands then grabbed my collar pulling me closer.
With her silken honey voice Ellen said “engage me”.
Normally I reveled in her little challenges, I mean what else could create such delightful friction in my life.
This time however I was unnerved even a bit frightened as I sank deeper into her her eyes.
Ellen repeated “engage me” her words invited me on a road I knew was Taboo

THOMAS

” A screamer, she had to be a screamer”, John thought, looking at his new bride. Providence gave him her so he could bless her and she him. He believed this marriage was ordained of God, but she didn’t seem to . Only eleven she’s a woman sooner than his other wives, however youth was no excuse to resist.
The Prophets knew. He knew. Soon she too would know the truth, submitting to him as unto God.
She sobbed as he wiped the blood from her mouth, gave her a long kiss, then forced himself onto her, eager for the next lesson.

STEVEN

Samantha always knew the exact location of the door. She knew the
ways to exit any room. She knew when to run, when to hide, when to
agree, when to be silent. These lessons were her mother’s gifts.
His rampages were a time for silence.
She did not flinch as bits of smashed vase skittered across the
kitchen floor. The vase was her mother’s. A shard came to rest
against her toe.
She looked up at him, angry in the kitchen doorway.
Samantha always knew the exact location of the door.
She also knew the exact location of the icepick.

DAPHNE

Thing that are taboo down here aren’t on the surface and some the things that were taboo up there… well no one really cares about anymore. You just need to learn how things are different and respect the society we have going here. Most of our taboos are about personal space and privacy. We welcome all new comers, we are very happy you made it here safely. Just treat ever living creature down here with respect and you will fit in okay. And I mean every living creature… do you get that? Yes, even the rats and mice.

ANIMA

Crudites. Chateaubriand. Cheesecake
Sumptuous meals are her waking thoughts. Savory dishes she would eat, once she could fit into her wedding dress. It would mean so much to mother.
Mum was aghast when Sandy ballooned to a size 6. All those summers at fat camp, for naught. Never mind that Chick Corea could trade licks with Gary Burton on her ribcage. Or that she broke her ankle slipping thru the sewer grate.
Sandy pulls her feeding tube to go puke again. She’d look good in that Vera Wang confection, even if it kills her.
Only 5 more pounds”

LAIEANNA

Big city, little light, and a whole lot of people moving around.
Momma squeezed my hand tight as she dragged me through the crowds. We
raced past drunks and browsers, and pushed through groups watching
street entertainers. The best attracted the most, only having to
compete with the shocking. Like Naked Art, a group of unclothed men
and women who did things to each other right on the street. All the
appalled people couldn’t stop watching. Momma whisked me away as fast
as we had come to them, but I promised myself one day I would come
back for more.

MIKE A

“…and so, Jarrod Rasmun, by reason of your repeated
and willful violations of our people’s strongest
taboo,
this council finds you guilty of violating the honor
of our village. The ancient penalty for this crime is
– death.”
“Most High Chief, I respectfully submit myself,” and
here Rasmun motioned to a nearby slave, “represented
by…”
“Not this time, Mr. Rasmun,” the elder interrupted.
“Your contempt for our laws and customs is clear.
Your
previous transgressions have cost five men an eye and
a hand each; it is they, who will carry out your
sentence.
You see – matters of honor are always personal.”

SOUGENT

Body parts lay scattered around him.
Zombies are tough customers all right, they keep coming even when all that’s left of them are pieces.
With a crunch, he stomped on a disembodied hand that was attempting to climb up his pant leg.
What a mess. At least he didn’t have to worry about the locals making a fuss, zombies were taboo in this neck of the woods, there would be nothing said and shortly after sunrise there wouldn’t be any sign of this conflict, the locals would see to that.
He’d sent a pointed message tonight, but would anyone listen?

PLANET Z

It’s game night tonight, but we can’t decide on a game.
I want to play Monopoly. But nobody ever lets me be the banker.
My wife’s got great eye-hand coordination, so Jenga’s her choice.
Bobby knows all sorts of useless trivia, so Trivial Pursuit’s his game.
And Little Suzie, well, she’s only six, but what a mouth she has on her! I don’t know where she learned all she knows for playing Taboo, but she hasn’t lost a match yet.
This is how fights start.
I guess I’d better fill up the pitcher and get out the quarters again.

Weekly Challenge #104 – Zombies

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One 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 selected by , who is going for broke with…
It’s Zombies.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

TOM M

The great leviathan with her, barnacle encrusted, titanium platinum alloy hull, lurked beneath her prey. For centuries automated systems kept the great beast functional. Her crew long dead.
Mindless, Soulless, and without remorse, the powerful zombie of the deep, targeted the yacht. The yacht shuddered a second, as steam and light came from below and tore it asunder. Debris drifted around it, as the hulking monster receded back to the deep to recharge.
The search continues but the warm Caribbean waters had claimed another victim. Meanwhile in the inky depths of the ocean an ancient terror recharges, repairs and waits.

MIKE A

I was really starting to hate autumn. The reddish
leaves were pretty, but since I usually saw them
only at night, I preferred them brown; it made it less
difficult to move unseen through the woods.
No, the problem was this: autumn always saw a major
increase in the number of zombies, almost like
some bizarre perversion of Spring. I almost have to
double the number of traps, which cuts into my
sleeping time. Unfortunately, you can’t cut into the
‘reproduction cycle’ by just eating them. Some
of my fellow werewolves had tried, and no good had
come of it.

JOEL H

Slow, shiftless, lifeless meat sacs roaming aimlessly without a purpose. One is young, thin and never stops smiling.
The other is old, brittle and cannot move without pain. The third is flawless even in his current state; the envy of the others.
The fourth, once a big hero in Houston is now a lifeless corpse floating in the Hudson. The fifth, a man once so strong he could move mountains, i
s tired at the thought of merely eating brains. You look at these men, defeated, dead and without a purpose and you must ask yourself”
what happened to the Mets’ offense?

HOTSPUR O’TOOLE

Phosphorous, the old man said. Their bodies generate phosphorous when they have finally collapse from hunger. I don”t care. They have always resembled giant glowing mushrooms at night. Cleanup duty isn”t too awful, once you get past the stench. Kind of peaceful. I just keep my bandana tied tight under my nose and wear my steel toed boots, in case of wrigglers with intact jaws. Tonight was a surprise. Old Mrs.Garrigus, the den mother. I remembered. She had turned in the middle of a pack meeting. “Ain”t that a kick in the head”, I mused, reaching for my axe handle.

GUY DAVID

I was just about to wrap up things at the office, when Barney went by me running and chased by a zombie. Now, it’s not everyday you see your coworker being chased by a zombie around the office, so this aroused my curiosity. Now ” where did this zombie come from, who bit who? Was this zombie bitten by his girlfriend in the middle of some steamy sex? Ooh, think what a damper this could put on his sex life. Maybe he was bitten by a salesman. Now ” this would definitely kill his insurance deal. That’s what I call sloppy salesmanship.

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

Hush. Do not say another word.
You stand out. You are not dressed like them – no suit, no power tie, no
flag pin. They swarm downtown during the day. Nighttime is safer; they
shelter in their homes.
I can pass among them. I can rattle off last week’s scores and the
contestants on the reality TV shows. You have to talk in soundbites, not
analysis. Are you stupid? They will eat your brain if they notice you.
Damn. My co-workers. Follow my lead.
Bobby! Yeah, shame about last night. We were just talking about who got
voted off, right?
Right?

CALEB BULLEN

In Haiti, zombies don”t eat yer brain like in de movies. In Haiti, de zombies are real. In de old time dey used to work as servants or mebbe in de plantation. Now most zombies sit in de cubicle writing SPAM or tech support. I got one zombie he do me taxes, another designed me website, “voodoo warrior dot com”.
Course we keep our zombies docile by filling dem with drugs and mind numbing messages so dey work and work without tryin improve dere situation. How you keep yer zombies workin? Budwieser? McDonalds? Lindsey Lohan as News? Just Like Haiti!

TERRY TEE

Bizroc and his wife walked along the tunnel with the satisfaction of full stomachs for the first time in many months. Like every worship day, they had joined their neighbors, marching like zombies, silently down the tunnel toward the worship hall.
They continued to march, getting closer to the meeting hall, becoming increasingly aware that something was different today.
Maybe different wasn’t the correct word, they were in for something special, special and profound, from the sounds of the choir.
Bizroc wondered if it pertained to the earthling, as he and his wife had found so sweet and delicious.

DAPHNE

I went to the surface today. We needed supplies. It was night and I stayed in the shadows but I watched out for the ‘Zombies’. They aren’t really Zombies, not the walking undead, but more like humans who after it happened… well they kind of died inside. If you looked at their eyes, there is nothing there, just a vacant stare. But never look at them, if you ever see one, hide. Find a dark corner, alley, open manhole, some place dark and stay there being very quiet and very still. Be very careful, you don’t want to be caught.

PLANET XRAY

I lie awake at night thinking of love I have lost because of what I didn’t say.
My first love came early in life, Pamela, and at a time when we could be carefree, with the whole world out there.
We would spend afternoons on those cold, winter days, next to the fireplace listening to our LPs.
We would have them all stacked up on the stereo spindle ready to go, The Beatles, Turtles, and our favorite, The Zombies.
The rhythm of our love keeping beat to the Zombies’ music.
Now all lost, because I didn’t say,
I Love You

ELISSON

When he first awakened in the grotto”s gloom, a spasm of pain in his side jolted him to his feet. That was when he realized how desperately hungry he was.
Where was he, anyway? All he could remember was being lifted high, being stabbed in the side, the taunting voices. His hands and ankles ached; in his mouth was a lingering taste of vinegar.
Standing up, he could barely see the rock blocking the exit. Ignoring the agony in his feet, he pushed it aside.
Out in the desert sun, all he could think was: I”m famished. “Bra-a-a-ains…” he moaned.

ANIMA

Zoe has slipped from the realm of the living.
Once, she was a caring, vibrant woman who volunteered at the shelter .Now she worries if she can get a manicure Tuesday.
Maury Povich is her bokor. Hooked on “Hard Copy” and “A Current Affair”, Zoe has lost her consciousness. She is a Psychological Zombie.
But I can’t let her go..
I know I can help. Given a strong enough emotional connection to the mortal world, zombies can break the trance. Kidnapping Zoe’s parents wasn’t enough. This time, I’ll take drastic measures on her lapdog.
Eventually, I will succeed.

TOM

Vapors squeezed from the steamer truck gather about Quatermain”s moustache. Cervantes noted Allan looked older as if something was finally wearing him down.
“What happening here?” asked Arnesto.
“You dear Cervantes. Your little journey through time has had dire effects. When you bleed time the body caporial loses blood to the brain. So many of our best and brightest have succumb so many Time Zombies.”
“Zombies ” that”s why life is in the sewers.”
“Yes it something about higher levels of moisture. It”s a bloody miracle the nightingale got you to the Hub.”
“The easy bake is our only hope.”

HEDGIE

Ever since I became a zombie people have been saying to me “Bob, you’re acting really weird”. Sure, I enjoy the taste of brains now and then. And yeah, I’m technically dead but really I’m just a monster. Honestly though, I’m still a regular guy. My friends and I just saw a movie at the mall. We’re all getting a little hungry though. Hey there’s Tom! We used to work together. I think I’ll go over and say hello. Maybe see if he would join us for a bite to eat.

Of a morning one of them comes into my room and hands me the Clozapine in a small paper cup.
At noon they call me to lunch where they hand me the Risperidone, also in a small paper cup.
In the evening, when the darkness returns, they give me a new paper cup with new pills inside.
They will not tell me what the red and blue pills are.
Sometimes they don’t catch me when I hid the pills under my tongue.
Later, in the early hours of morning, I cry.
Zombies can’t cry, or laugh, or smile, or feel.

LAIEANNA

Civilization was wrong. The zombies aren’t mindless. They just had a
change in taste, and I agree with them. A good chef doesn’t pass up
any unusual or exotic ingredients for their dishes. When the world
was handed to the zombies, I was ready to serve them with heavenly
meals. My restaurant is perfect with a basement kitchen and closed in
steel serving area. Getting past the diners for groceries and fresh
meat is the hardest part. That’s why I always welcome survivors to my
sanctuary. Never keep your customers waiting for long by keeping a
good stock of food.

TERRENCE

Raoul watched as the zombies crested the hill in the distance headed in his direction. At first the group was small, but more continued to pour over the hill. Now off to his right a hand reached up and then soon a human figure dragged itself from the ground.
The zombie looked at Raoul, it’s jaw hanging from a few strands on flesh. Its right hand nothing but bone and a large hole in its chest through which you could see its slow beating heart and the small witherhunch. The good book never described resurrection of the dead like this.

SOUGENT

As he waited, the sweat trickled down his back, the humidity of this “tropical paradise” closed in around him like a soggy blanket. In the darkness, a cacophony of noise burst forth from the jungle, but that would all change when “they” came, the living did not take kindly to the creatures he was waiting for. The cessation of noise would be his first sign that the zombies had risen from their earthen abodes and were on the hunt. Their task for the night? To kill him.
But he was ready for them, tonight the hunted would become the hunter.

PLANET Z

We’re in here. Zombies are out there.
I’d like to keep it that way.
Not Duffy. Every night, he sees his wife on the monitors.
“You’ve gotta let me save her!” he says.
No. Even if he finds her, there’s no cure.
“I don’t care,” he says. “I made a vow. I’m going out there .”
There’s a difference between In Sickness And In Health and Till Death Do Us Part.
Guilt drives people like Duffy mad.
You see, those cameras were disconnected weeks ago.
Which is a good thing, because I didn’t have to see Duffy swarmed, taken down, screaming.

Weekly Challenge #103 – Steamer Trunk

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One 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 selected by Daphne Abernathy, who is going for broke with…
It’s Steamer Trunk.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

STEVEN
(The background sounds were from Metamorphmuses at the Freesound Project. )

“Are we supposed to be up here?”
The third attic stair squeaked before I answered my sister’s whine.
“Mom is gone for the afternoon. I am bored and in charge until they get
back. So yes.”
The attic was full of Grandmother’s old stuff. Here there was a stack of
yellowing magazines, there were some musty papers and old books. Under it
all was the prize: Her old steamer trunk, blackened with age and oil.
“Bobby, I heard Grandma was a witch.”
Pandora Spyros, Grandma’s name, was written just above the latch. I ignored
my sister and opened Grandmother’s box.

TOM

The horizon of London was as still as death. Maria and Cervantes moved passed Bishopsgate. They were play connect the dot using the ever iconic nightingales, beck left, beck right. “I think were here.” Said Maria. Beck down. They pried the manhole cover and started down the vertical stairs. At the bottom of the shaft two shadows took form and demanded a password.
Cervantes replied, ” pierce the hallow of thee ear.” The men grunt and led them down the sewers. After an hour the quartet was standing in front of Quatermain his foot resting on a venting steamer trunk.

DAPHNE

We don’t have many luxuries down here. The dampness destroys most things. Leave a book out too long, the pages become swollen and warped. Photos stick together. Clothes get musty and moldy. I’m lucky, I thought ahead. I pack my few treasured belongings into an old steamer trunk. It was designed to keep out the moisture. I have a few photo albums, some favorite books, extra clothes and a music box. I can’t play it as often as I’d like, it would draw attention from above, but when I feel brave I wind it up and let it play.

TERRY

Bizroc happily scurried into the kitchen, amazed at the good luck of his hunting mere minutes ago.
The earthling had been so easily confused; Bizroc had hardly appeared when the earthling froze in his tracks, unable to move.
Then, it had been so easy, no thick armored skin like any of the local animals, one swipe of his fangs and he had enough meat for both him and his wife.
While he thought of his good luck, Bizroc put the large chuck of meat into the Steamer Trunk to let it hydrate and cook, they would be eating good tonight.

GUY

It looked like an old treasure chest. As we entered the attic, the old steamer truck grandma hidden away glowed slightly. “We shouldn’t be here” said Judy, “What if your grandma comes back? I’m afraid of what she would do”. “Oh, relax”, I said, “She’s hanging around with that Lony. They won’t be here for a while”.
As we approached the old chest, I noticed the box had what looked like a face, and it was smiling slightly.
Suddenly, we heard the door opening, and my grandma was standing there, then she smiled slightly and turned Judy to a frog.

The auction was at the old warehouse at the end of Cunard Rd.
I had read in the paper that there would be many unopened bags and trunks.
I stood with my bid stick and watch as small leather bags and large suitcases were sold.
I bid and was out bid throughout the day.
Near the end only a few people remained when the Steamer Trunk was wheeled out.
Old and beaten the trunk called to me.
I bid and won.
It smelled of mold and mildew.
On the tag handwritten in fading ink were the words.
Southampton, England, Titanic.

PLANET XRAY

Jack opened the Steamer Trunk, quickly stuffing the Nightingale Sister’s limp, lifeless bodies inside. Throwing in the red rose, he lost sight of the petals against the blood soaked dresses. Using rags, he wiped up the rest of the blood and tossed them inside also, locking the Trunk.
His hobby so easy; there were so many young ladies who believed that young men wanted nothing more than to be in their company and spend money.
Dragging the trunk slowly down the stairs, he opened the door and tossed the trunk into the underground river, to a life in the sewers.

SOUGENT

The plan was foolproof, its execution was perfect, nothing could possibly go wrong.
The steamer trunk was ready, large enough you could stuff a body into it.
It wasn’t much of a struggle in the end, shortly after the cake was delivered, the coup de gr”ce was also.
It was quite absurd, really, to believe he would be much of a challenge.
He reached up and brushed some cake crumbs from his lapel, shook his head sadly and closed the lid of the steamer trunk which now contained a jumble of parts, the remains of one slightly ambitious robotic butler.

EVAMOON

Alma shut the lid and punched in her code. Again. When she opened the box,
it was still empty. Damn infomercials! It was supposed to be the best new
thing to solve household storage problems. Using the new transdimensional
gateway technology, you could fit all your stuff in a box about the size of
a steamer trunk. All coded for instant retrieval. Except now it wasn”t
giving anything back. Anything that went in was just gone. And the tech
support lines were disconnected.
Alma stood, dusted her hands, and called to discontinue her garbage
collection service.

CRAIG

Her thoughts got lost in the the neighborhood as she walked.
Lead paint pealing, washing into the gutters mixing with fluids from obnoxious realms, flowing into their taps.
Yellow and gray floating in and out of apt windows, children”s lungs tattooed with rust.
Sally pushed through the fear, sweat beading like pearls on spandex.
Hurried little laughs echoed from doorways.
Inching her stilettos over the smooth cobblestones Sally felt people watching her, following her.
Opening the door to her grandfathers old factory. Holding her breath unlocking the steamer trunk, reaching inside with one quick motion, pulling out her Teddy Bear.

ANIMA

The dapper secret agent stands up in front of the large steamer trunk. Quick footsteps are heard receding in the tunnel below.
“Artie, I have to go after Loveless””
“If you don’t stop him Jim, he will use the Ultrasonic Reverberator to destroy the railroad trestle. The President and all the European ambassadors will die!”
“Train of fools”” mutters Jim.
Jim stomps his boots; knives shoot from the toes. He lowers himself into the trunk, front-pointing into the mine shaft.
“And Artie, could you change into the strumpet outfit” that green dress does bring out your eyes…

TERRENCE

Dropping the dead bird it landed with a thud next to the old wooden box. Raoul gave the box a kick. It started to click and shake. Raoul watched as it got louder and louder until it climaxed with a short quiet pop.
The bird slowly stood and looked up at him. Raoul punted the bird across the field out of sight. He couldn’t believe that people all over the world searched for the box. Sure it had it’s uses, but it wasn’t like they would ever believe that this ragged looking steam trunk was the Ark of the Covenant.

PLANET Z

The Blue Fairy gave Pinocchio the gift of life, but with life, comes the curse of pain and death.
Gepetto warned Pinocchio that life was a lot more dangerous for a real boy than a little wooden puppet.
Pinocchio laughed. “I’m not made of wood, Papa,” he said. “If I put my arm in a fire…”
To this day, as he looks down at the trembling child, cowering inside of a steamer trunk and begging for the lid to be brought down again, shutting out the horrors of the outside world, Gepetto regrets ever having carved that block of wood.

Weekly Challenge #102 – Nightingale

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One 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 selected by Steven the Nuclear Man.
It’s Nightingale.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

DAPHNE

We don’t hear many birds down here but we can hear the nightingales. Their song comes through the sewer grates and is the only music we have. The children can whistle their tune. Lovers dance to the sound. It is something that reminds us of life on the surface, before it happened. When the nightingales stop singing we begin to worry. Did something frightened them away? Was it a cat? A larger bird? Or worse. We hold our breaths, keep silent and wait…

STEVEN

Cherry blossoms perfume the air, decorating it with the fall of their
petals. I stand before her, my katana soiled with the blood of her
enemies. Her rescued family is my wedding offering.
I have read the tales of heroes. I fashioned my armor, my habits, my
life in imitation of them. I completed their trials, their feats. I
am the greatest of them.
I smile at her. I have read the tales of heroes, and I know how this will end.
She turns, walking away under the cherry blossoms.
As in all the tales of heroes, a nightingale sings.

TOM

Arnesto was tempted to open the book, but he wasn”t ready for that level of Pandoraic possibility. Maria had no qualms about messing with the timeline.
“Look, It has your name on the inside cover.”
Cervantes took a timid peek. Zounds. The author was Arnesto Arroway. Maria”s laughter echoed down the empty halls.
“Looks like I”m a great grand ma. It”s kind of comforting.”
“No it makes me dizzy.” Growled Arnesto closing the cover without read any of the passages.
“What”s this?” said Maria pointing on the writing on the wall.
“Its Quatermain”s nightingale!” Life in the sewers indeed Allan.

TERRY

Josh ran into the ship’s med section, using the last of his strength, he pressed his hand against the biometric scanner, the hatch opened.
He quickly climbed into the Nightingale, Mk IV., careful not to shift the cloth that kept the blood from gushing out of his leg.
It was foresight that Space Command included the automated med machine, without it he would be dead.
It would take the Nightingale at least two weeks to regenerate the large chuck of flesh that was missing. Then he would take care of that little red beast that had tried to eat him.

ANIMA

Le Rossignol was the best of the cat burglars. He could be in and out of a building in seconds, never setting off an alarm. He never did it for monetary gain. No, it was always for singing.
He’d intone Gregorian chants in marble bathrooms, and trill arias on grand staircases. Once, he even broke into Cathedrale Notre-Dame to sing Mozart’s Requiem by himself.
However, Rossi lost an early morning challenge to Le Coq, who thought the Eiffel Tower should be his personal roost.
Shamed, he jumped the Big Pond.
Americanized, “The Nightingale” now busks in Grand Central Station.

GUY DAVID

The record was spinning endlessly, caught in the groove. It was obvious she wasn’t coming. He just set there feeling like a fool. A sudden wave of anger swept over him. He was getting used to this, it has happened too many times. He got up swiftly, half knocking down his chair. He opened the door and left, slamming it behind him. He wasn’t going to wait any longer. Behind him, the chair fell over the table that held the old fashioned gramophone, and the stylus jumped over. The voice of Julee Cruise singing The Nightingale filled the room again.

CRAIG

Some years ago while reading architectural digest I saw reference to nightingale floors, but no accompanying definition and promptly forgot about it.
Later while laying the wood floors in our mountain cabin I was amazed to find that the boards had unique and nuanced sounds as they rubbed against each other.
With a bit of ingenuity in fastening the wood you can create a magical ongoing conversation with the house.
Going room to room at times seems like dancing on a xylophone.
You skate from board to board creating warm enticing tones that will resonate in your memory forever.

TERRENCE

Long shadows fell across the witherhunch as Raoul looked out across the vast landscape. A grassy meadow with the occasional tree spread out before him. He stood under one such tree, the witherhunch had found safety next to a good sized rock. Raoul loved the night, watching the dark shadows dancing.
A soft song rose, started from his right and spread out across the land; he heard a loving sigh in the distance. Raoul reached up, picking the nightingale off the branch. He looked deep into its eyes and it sang to him as her squeezed the life from it.

PLANET X-RAY

Jack gazed dreamingly at the singing women on the stage. He could understand why the theater had billed them as the Nightingale Sisters, their voices where as beautiful as any real Nightingale could sing.
They were also the loveliest ladies Jack had seen in a long time, Jack was going to enjoy this evening. He had sent them a red rose and a promise to dance till dawn.
They had all accepted his invitation, eager to dance so lightly across the floor in their gay dresses to the sound of the stringed instruments, to be merry until the next dawn.
But Jack had darker plans, as the sharp blades in his pocket would attest. By dawn, the nightingales would no longer sing, but would croak instead, and the rose he had given them wouldn’t be the only thing running red.
And the nightingales sang on.

SOUGENT

It’s after midnight and I can’t sleep, I mustn’t sleep, if I sleep they will find me and then….
No! I can’t think of that.
I cautiously move through the dark forest, I hear the song of a nightingale in the distance and a feeling of dread comes over me.
Is it really a nightingale, or is it a signal from one of *them*?
I look around nervously.
Two wizened little men approach a motionless form on the ground, one of them pokes it with a stick and snorts, “sleeping eh?”.
The song of a nightingale fills the forest.

WILL ROSS

Gail Winters. They called her Nightingale, the stripper who could sing. Tonight I just call her the victim. We’ve been here before, but, If you tell my wife that I’ll deny it. The Station boys visit after work, drink a beer and watch her dance. She’ll sing, “My Funny Valentine” or “Fever” before she strips down to her dainties and hustles the rubes. Tonight she’s in a pool of O-Positive, all because she tried to break up a fight and took a beer bottle behind the ear. Station boys arn’t happy. Killer’s in for a rough night.

PLANET Z

Y’all knows Colonel Harlan Sanders, but what abouts Lieutenant Yancy Ottercott?
Two reasons why, son:
He warn’t talented with a pressure cooker as his neighbor, and one day while cooking up a bird, the lid blew off and stove in his fool skull.
The other reason was that he warn’t cookin up chicken. He was frying up nightingale.
Didn’t bother pluckin them. Left the feathers right on, dipped and breaded those suckers whole.
Crunchy, sure, but Harlan’s chicken couldn’t be beat.
As for the mashed potatoes, well, Harlan swiped that recipe from Yancy.
Not that he’d be needin it anymore.

Weekly Challenge #101 – Life In The Sewer

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One 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 selected by JD White.
It’s Life In The Sewer.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

STEVEN

I rise from the manhole, from my sewer home. Rain runs down my green
skin and the scratches in my shell. It has been twenty four years,
and I tire easily. My brothers’ weapons slew many soldiers before
they fell. Only I remain.
Our enemy is in his home, now just a slumlord with antique armor. He
watches our old cartoons and laughs. All anyone remembers are pizza
eating caricatures, our innocence as youths.
The enemy eats his pizza, ignoring the irony. He forgets that our
ninja skills surpassed his. Tonight, I will remind him.
I draw my swords.
Cowabunga.

STEVEN #2

I had sent the link to my grandmother, parents – all of those people
who like to see what I’ve written. And then – only then – do I start
to listen to the podcast. He dropped the F-bomb. Before the intro
music.
I am so glad I mentioned the dirty words.
I am going to be in trouble. I’m sure of it. I was going to run
away, but I would miss them. Instead, I’ll go down. It’s warm in
winter, and there’s never any traffic jams.
Once my nose adjusts, I might get used to my exiled life in the sewer.

AINI

Life is such a great journey. We learn a lot from living which helps us to deal with
different kinds of situations that we face. Living is a wonderful experience.
As for me, I love my life. It is amazing and a lot of fun. In life you can do so many things
that you can enjoy or learn from. In my life I have great things like money,
a home, my own room, a soft bed and a lovely pillow on what I put my sleepy
head every night. My life is fabulous. All these gorgeous things around me make my life perfect.
However, there is just this big word ”but” to all this. This is my life only when compared to life in the sewer.

PLANET X-RAY

Norton strolled down the tunnel looking for the valve that would drain this section. To think he had spent almost his life in the sewers and he couldn’t find one lousy valve.
His mind kept going back to last night’s bowling. It just wasn’t the same without Ralph. Oh sure, Laurence bowled great, but he wasn’t Ralph. He was just too stiff and didn’t joke around like Ralph did.
Plus, Norton was still in shock from when the cops handcuffed Ralph and led him away.
Oh sure, Ralph had said it a hundred times in the last 20 years, but who though he’d actually do it.
Well, he still had his life in the sewers to look forward to, poor Ralph would be in prison and Alice, well there just wasn’t any coming back from the moon.

GUY DAVID

Most of the time, only the rats and I live here. I say most of the time since every once in a while, a lonely traveler finds his way here.
This is the real underground. Got used to the smell, the crap flouting here in the sewer, you’d be surprised what people flash down their toilets. One can find all sort of strange toys down here for use on hapless lonesome travelers. Their screams can be heard for miles, but there’s no one to hear.
Would you like to come visit? I’ll have a special room ready, just for you.

TERRY TEE

Bizrocca strolled slowly along the walkway deep in thought
Here she was working her ass off to keep them living the life style that they were accustomed to, and what does he do.
He gives her that tasteless birthday cake with little meat in it, and she was sure he had used the neighbors pet as the main ingredient. Why she had found the toenails from seven of the beast’s feet in the cake for god’s sake.
And just what does he say”.
“But my lumpy dumpy, I wanted to catch that 4 legged beast the earthling brought with him, but it was just too fast for me.”
Too fast for him, shit, he was just too fucken lazy to get off his ass and leave their comfortable house.
Well, that was life in the sewer, it just doesn’t get any better than this on Mars.

ELISSON

I row through the Underground, navigating past the Ordure Ocean, the Beeyem Bay, the Sea of Shit. I”m a regular Crap Mariner, sailing the sewers like Jason and the Cacanauts.
After all these years, I”ve gotten used to the reek. Almost.
Life was different once. You might remember me: I was the Ty-D-Bowl Man.
With my blazer and jaunty captain”s cap, I”d paddle around in toilet tanks, freaking out the housewives. You”d freak too, if you found a little dude rowing a boat in your tank. Great gig while it lasted.
Lousy defective flapper valve.
I still miss my cap.

ANIMA

After pulling on hipwaders, I slurp the last of the tea. Collecting my Browning BAR and a fistful of.338 Mag cartridges, I head down the main utilidor”
I can tell its after 8 ” there’s lots of brown trout nudging downstream. Sometimes, I come see the afternoon surge around 4:30, weekdays. In this sector, trout are quiet on the weekends.
CHUDs have been spotted to the north… that’s where I’m headed. My job is to protect topsiders from becoming lunch, but I do it more for the fun. I hope to bring home a huge trophy mount today. Wish me luck!

TOM

It was cramped but doable. The easy bake on Maria, Maria in Arnesto”s lap. “Is the air always red here?” Ask Maria. “No last time it was green about the constancy of pudding.” he said gazing out at the mists of vermilion. “Are we there yet?” laughed Arroway, the Kronomer didn”t get the reference. The mist cleared to reveal a dim dust filled room. Something was very wrong. As they stepped into the room Maria noticed the following scrawled on the wall: Life In The Sewer. On the floor was a package from the future: Book Number Three.

CRAIG

The dog is dead, cat living in a tree, me I”m living in a city sewer.
Everything I ever owned or dreampt of owning is out of reach
cause I”m living in a city sewer and someone has closed the grate.
Neighbors are rats and their getting fat living in the city sewer.
We all bob like apples when it rains in the city sewer.
The other day Hank drowned living in the city sewer.
We all scramble for heat when buses idle over the city sewer.
In the summer we all hold our nose living in the city sewer.

BRYAN / KA-KLICK

The elevator sank quietly into the shaft. His spirits racing ahead of it. As it came to rest at the lobby his spirits continued into the abyss. The doors slid open silently. He clicked across the sterile marble and glass space and stepped out into the street.
It was a cool night and the grates in the street billowed forth a steady cloud of steam.
It made him pause to wonder: What would life in the sewer be like?
Could he just fake a really bad accident, set up some kind of secret lair, become the phantom of Wall street?

SOUGENT

It’s the smell you notice at first, when you first go in, a raw foul stench that permeates the air.
It clings to you, thick and cloying, wrapping around you like a warm blanket.
Moist and steaming, it flows around you.
So strong, you can taste it, every nuance, every flavor.
After a while, you get used to it. Stay long enough and you learn to love it.
Ah, yes, close your eyes and inhale deeply, breathe in that wonderful fragrance.
Life in the sewer.
My life, my world.
It’s the life of a sewer rat.
JD WHITE

I stand in a dim shaft of fading yellow light.
Around my legs the black stagnant water is disturbed only when I move.
Before me the curved walls of the tunnel quickly fade away into the darkness.
The smell no longer turns my stomach.
At the edge of my vision red pinpoints no longer blink out when I scream.
Time has lost its meaning here where the only sound is the scurry of sharp claws on wet stone.
For long years I fought its call until its blasphemy overcame my will.
It draws near in the dark.
The Cthulhu comes.

And I love it.

DAPHNE

I moved to the sewer after it happened. I wasn’t the only one there. Some people went to the subways but we found that the sewer gave us more mobility. They run all over, we were able to get to supplies we needed to live. We’ve managed to adapt to living down here. We can go to the surface, but only at night, it’s only safe at night. The remaining surface dwellers help us out, until they get caught. Kids talk about the surface like priest talks about heaven, you might get to go there someday if you are good… and dead.

PLANET Z

Every cell in our bodies is a living thing.
Fat cells.
Muscle cells.
Nerve cells.
And blood cells.
The collective that is you may be dead, but these cells will live on for as long as they receive oxygen and nutrients.
As I watch the blood drain from your body, run down the gutter and into the sewer, I imagine that your life’s journey is not quite over.
Life is taking a detour, if only briefly, into the sewer. Bon voyage, life! Pleasant journeys.
Oh, and your kidneys, packed on ice, will live on in a very wealthy businessman in Tokyo.

Weekly Challenge #100 – Cake

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Welcome to the One Hundredth Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
(If you’re curious, this is episode #1,402 of this podcast. 1,514 – 96 – 16 – 1 = 1,402)
The topic this week was selected by Phish Frye of Purple Stripe.
It’s Cake.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

This is important, because there’s prizes on the line.
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

The cake floats before us, made buoyant by the 100 candles adorning its upper surface.
100.
The century mark.
A sign of longevity, wisdom, and occasionally intelligence.
The cake descends slowly coming to rest on the brightly decorated table cloth.
Many paper plates of various colors are spread around the table.
Forks and cups of clear plastic are nearby.
A green plastic cake knife cuts through the wonderful white icing, biting into the rich brown interior releasing words that spill out and then float upward until they swirl around the guest.
100 words for each.
Happy birthday 100 word podcast.

STEVEN

The recipe amused her: “As this homey dessert bakes…” It was
appropriate, in an overdone kind of way. He had been gone for just
over a year. He would appreciate a little care package.
The scoop whuffed a small puff of flour onto her mother’s old
cookbook. When she cooked, her mother’s memory was close. She could
almost hear her voice.
“Sissy, get all the ingredients together before you start cooking,” it chided.
Fine.
Sugar. Eggs. Baking powder. Metal file. Chocolate. Vanilla.
Her son called from the other room. “Mommy, when will Daddy come home?”
“Soon, baby. Real soon.”

KEEME

Tossing and turning in bed, I wondered, will it start again, the sweet whisper of temptation?
As sleep drew me under, the aroma of this magnificent, cruel pastry dragged me back!
“STOP IT” I yelled out. “You’re wrong, I don’t want you or your lies!”
But it was relentless.
Damned dirty cake!
It saw through me, watched me as I thrashed about, fighting the urge, wanting, mercilessly luring me closer.
I KNOW! I’ll throw you out!
As I slowly made my way to this delicious adversary, I reached out and grabbed an apple.
Not as satisfying, sure, but still sweet.

EVAMOON

Alma bent her legs first one way and then another, trying to find the right fit. In the end, she discovered if she curled up on her side and tucked her right foot tightly behind her left ankle there was just room to snug her hips inside the rim of the round pan. She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against her thighs; left arm beneath her cheek and right snaked into the small space above her feet. It wasn”t easy, but wasn”t her family worth a little sacrifice?
After dinner the kids all begged for an extra slice.

HOPE

Cake, soft and squishy, and fluffy, and sugary or tart and sweet and everything complete! What can I say about cake? It is my favorite food. I crave it in all forms. I crave it in Chocolate. I crave it in Vanilla, I crave it in Carrot. I crave it in Red Velvet the most!
Because Cake is my favorite word I use it to describe people as well. The word cake is used to describe people who make me feel sexy, bring no drama, and always make me laugh! Because I can have my cake and eat it, too?

KA-KLICK

He rose from his desk. Alone in the building, it was that quiet time, before the cleaning crew came but after even the most dedicated employee packed it in.
His legs quivered as he rose. Would he have the nerve to go through with it? This was going to take planning but he had to get it done before things hit the fan.
He stepped through the doors of his corner office, to make his way through cube land, confronted by the remains of Charley’s cake.
Poor guy, wasn’t going to enjoy retirement as much as he’d thought this afternoon.

TERRY

Bizroc looked at the recipe once again as he prepared the ingredients,
1 cup of ground malni root
1 teaspoon of fugg powder
1 torful egg, divided
1 tablespoon of groggy grease
2 cups of briz flour
Yup, he had all of them set aside.
Now all he had to do is find the main ingredient.
He had seen the two legged earthling a couple of times,
that would be more than enough meat,
maybe too much, he hated to be wasteful.
Ah, but that four legged earthling he saw running round the last few days
would be just right size for the recipe.
How to catch it, that was a problem, it was so quick.
Well, Bizrocca better appreciate her special birthday cake this year,
with all the trouble he was going through to make it for her.

ANIMA

Baby Shower: White and pink. Games played, chablis drunk.
Sweet 16: White and yellow. Ritual passage into adulthood; Stolen kisses playing “Spin the Bottle”.
Graduation: A purple scroll on a field of white: 6 years tedium commemorated by eggs and sugar. Cake ignored. Keg well attended.
Marriage: All white pastillage and fondant. Top layer lasts longer in the freezer than the vows do.
Funeral: A final slice to a white life. Still trying to scrape the frosting off.
Marmalade tiers between dry white crumb layers: first kiss, first car, first child, first marriage, first million… the sweetness of life…

GUY DAVID

They wanted to bake a cake to be remembered. They wanted to break the world record. What they came up with was huge. 100 yards long, 100 yards tall and 100 yard wide, strawberry, vanilla cream and lime. It was a masterpiece. Then, the cake came to life and started eating people. They had to call in the army. It was messy. Now, I’m left to clean up the mess. I think I just found the cake’s heart. It’s still beating. I wonder…
“colonel Jackson, look at that giant matza marching in the street. I think we have a problem”.

TOM

An alarm wailed through the infirmary of the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen. Maria released Cervante”s fingers and ran into the hall. Cervantes continued reading Ellie”s message. He stop at the words: Easy Bake Oven. “How in Zeus will I fit two adults and an oven onto the Kronomotive?”
Suddenly a screen on the wall illuminated. Cervantes still wasn”t comfortable with the concept of images flying through space, but of course he was flying through time. “There was a brench in the hemorrhage collector. We grabbed the first contain we could find.” She held up a toy oven and a cupcake.

ELISSON

Gary Gateau was a uranium miner.
Every morning he would don lead-fiber coveralls and facemask and descend
into the bowels of the Athabasca Pit. Every evening he would shamble
home exhausted, encrusted with triuranium octoxide.
Caked with yellowcake.
Gary hated the yellowcake. It got in his nostrils, his ears, his eyes.
He knew that eventually it would kill him. But he had to make a
living. Ironic, that, he thought.
Today, however, was his birthday. He rushed to his shack, eager to
celebrate.
His face fell when he saw that his wife had baked a cake.
A fucking yellow cake.

SOUGENT

Lord Farnsworth reached over to the side table and rang the little
bell which would summon his diminutive robotic butler, Rett.
Wheezing, mechanical sounds drifted down the hallway, “You rang sir?”,
Rett asked.
“Yes, you bumbling fool”, Farnsworth exclaimed with a thump of his
cane, “I want some cake, right now!”.
“Yes sir”, Rett said with a mechanical wheeze that sounded almost like
a sigh. He departed for the kitchen to retrieve the cake.
Once in the kitchen, the robots demeanor changes. “It is cake you
want? Then cake you shall have old man, enjoy it while you can.”

CRAIG

The invitation was waiting when Sally turned on her computer. Reading
the email she thought “I need more then cake to chase away this mood”.
Still, it was Saturday and a few sweet bites just might help.
Fork in hand Sally went to the bakery, headed to the sample table and
went from one end to the other. With each bite her feelings of not
belonging desolved just a bit more.
Leaving the bakery Sally walked six or seven miles assuaging her guilt,
then hailed a taxi for home.
The bakery”s computer waited to send Sally a new sweet invitation.

CALEB

When he saw the size of the cake, Laurence Simon thought he knew what
was coming; but from whom? Ellison might jump out of the cake with a
crummy story, or Tom with something bittersweet that lingered on the
minds tongue like the memory of espresso. Laieanna would pop out with
something deliciously on topic. Guy or Caleb would predictably do the
unexpected and throw pies if in that cake. But when tentacles like steel
cables wrapped around his throat and pulled him into the cake”s
slavering maw Laurence thought, “Oh boy! Andrew Ian Dodge is back,
welcome back Andrew!”

STUART

The old man sat in his chair not thinking or expecting much for his birthday.
Then again at the age of 85 you have so many old friends who have passed away and it seems like nobody wants to even be with you. He longed for cake. Even now it was something he could not really have. He can’t even walk up the street to get his own cake these days.
That’s when it happened…
The whole family flood in to the tiny terraced house bearing gifts and cakes. He couldn’t even describe how happy he was to eat cake.

DAPHNE

It was her 100th birthday, all her family and her few friends who were still alive were there. They had a party and at the end the birthday cake arrived. She was given a piece then stood up to address everyone, the room got quiet to hear what she had to say:
“What the hell? I live 100 years and you give me a sliver of cake with no frosting? Well fuck you, food police! Give me a real piece with roses, lots of them and that better be real frosting not that shitty whip cream stuff.”

PHISH FRYE

The wedding was going well but I was nervous about the cake cutting.
Of course, our friends were goading us into slamming the cake into each other’s faces, but it meant more to us than that. It was a symbol of our vows, our first test of trust as newlyweds. Would she keep her promise? Could I trust her with my life? I closed my eyes, waiting for her answer.
Slowly, lovingly, she placed the cake in my mouth. Promises kept. Our trust formed. Our lives, together.
In the end, divorce was the only option.
The cake was a lie.

HOUSTON

Dang it Wade, David Carr just signed with the Giants. Brad Johnson is
old and feeble, sure Carr has created a suckstorm everywhere, but I
think I could mold him.
What about Tony Romo?
Jessica Simpson has his loins all a quiver! We have got to do
something to get his focus back!
Jerry, I know we bombed two years in a row in the first round of the
playoffs, but I think he is coming around.
Why is that Wade?
He made you a cake, look!
Wade” That cake looks like a set of boobies. Get Romo in here!

LAIEANNA

In the frigid air, Purple Sprinkle 39 from bottle 142668 awoke in the
dark. He remembered the avalanche of white frosting that sent him
sliding to the platter below. One absent piece from the cake and the
icing on top had become unstable. He got up and felt the layered
edges of the open pastry, determined to climb it’s spongy middle and
make his way back to his rightful place among his brothers who called
for him. He needed to return before the fridge opened and the cake
was taken away again to celebrate 100 Word Story Challenge’s 100th
birthday.

PLANET Z

Old Gertie died last night.
One day short of a hundred.
The TV people will be here in an hour to tape her blowing out the candles.
We bought a big cake just for that.
We’ll just have Fuzzy Norma sit in for Gertie.
She doesn’t talk much, except to say “Yes?” and laugh.
Neither had? I mean have any family around, so I’ll do all the talking.
After the party, we’ll quietly ship Gertie off to Shady Springs.
Don’t worry. None of the residents will blow it.
I’ve told them if they say anything, they won’t get any cake.

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #109?
	Steven the Nuclear Man!
	Tom from Footnote Podcast
	Justin from The Space Turtle
	Thomas
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Mike
	Anima Zabaleta
	Misfitina from Stainless Steel Matryoshka
	Craig from Wash The Bowl
	Elisson from blog d’Elisson
	Almo
	Terry Tee from Quiet Time
	Daphne from Going Broke
	Laieanna and Hodgepodge Point
	Guy David of Guy David.com
	Planet Z

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Which stories were the best from Weekly Challenge #108?
	Thomas
	MCJC from stainless steel matryoshka
	Justin from The Space Turtle
	Tom from Footnote
	Steven the Nuclear Man
	Hotspur from Hibernia on the Skids
	Eva Moon the Lunatic
	Almo
	Mike
	JD from Writing.com
	Anima Zabaleta
	Guy David from Guy David
	Craig from Wash The Bowl
	Elisson from blog d’Elisson
	Terrence from NeverWas
	Planet Z

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Which stories were the best from Weekly Challenge #107?
	Planet Z
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	Rich Palmer of Audio Gumshoe
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Steven the Nuclear Man
	Thomas
	Eva Moon the Lunatic
	JD from Writing.com
	Tom from Footnote
	Planet X-Ray from Planet X Podcast
	Anima Zabaleta
	Almo
	Craig from Wash The Bowl
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Sougent from SL Adventures of a Southern Gentleman
	Laieanna from Hodgepodge Point

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Which stories were the best from Weekly Challenge #106?
	Steven the Nuclear Man!
	David from To Da People
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Tom from Footnote
	Anima Zabaleta
	Terry from Quiet Time Podcast
	Planet X from Planet X Podcast
	Craig from Wash The Bowl
	Sougent from SL Adventures of a Southern Gentleman
	Thomas
	JD White from Writing.com
	Terrence from Never Was
	Laieanna from HodgePodge Point
	Hotspur O’Toole from Hibernia on the Skids
	Mike
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Planet Z

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Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #106?
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Almo Schumann
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Tom from Footnote
	Terry Tee from Quiet Time
	Evamoon the Lunatic
	Planet Xray from Planet X Podcast
	JD from Writing.com
	Craig from Wash The Bowl
	Thomas
	Steven the Nuclear Man
	Daphne from Going Broke
	Anima Zabaleta
	Laieanna and Hodgepodge Point
	Mike
	Sougent from SL Adventures of a Southern Gentleman
	Planet Z

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Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #104?
	Tom Merkel
	Mike A.
	Joel H.
	Hotspur O’Toole from Hibernia on the Kids
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Steven the Nuclear Man!
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Terry the Quiet Time Podcaster
	Daphne from Going Broke
	Planet X-Ray from Planet X Podcast
	Elisson from blog d’Elisson
	Anima Zabaleta
	Tom from Footnote
	Hedgie
	JD
	Laieanna from Hodgepodge Point
	Terrence from Never Was
	Sougent from Sl Adventures of a Southern Gentleman
	Planet Z

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Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #102?
	Daphne of Going Broke
	Steven the Nuclear Man!
	Tom from Footnote
	Terry the Quiet Time
	Anima Zabaleta
	Guy David at Guy David dot com
	Craig from Wash The Bowl
	Terrence from Never Was
	Planet X-Ray from Planet X Podcast
	Sougent from SL Adventures of a South Gentleman
	Will Ross from 118 Migration
	Planet Z

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Who had the best stories in Weekly Challenge #101?
	Steven the Nuclear Man!
	Aini
	Planet X-Ray
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Terry Tee from Quiet Time
	Elisson from blog d’Elisson
	Anima Zabaleta
	Tom from Footnote
	Craig from Wash The Bowl
	Bryan from Ka-Klick.com
	Sougent from SL Adventures of a Southern Gentleman
	JD White from Writing.com
	Daphne from Going Broke
	Planet Z

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