Category: Weekly Challenge

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

Which were the best stories of the week?
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
	J Radimus
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com
	Erin from http://www.connected2christ.com
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com
	JDavidBozdin
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com
	TJ from http://tjaman.libsyn.com
	Planet X from http://planetxpodcast.com
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Lynda

Call me obsessed, but my completionist mentality has served me well. I put myself through school by selling my comic book collection, my original redline Hot Wheels paid for my first real car, my house was paid for with stamps, and the early marketing for my home business was financed by scalping Star Wars figures on the Internet.
I think selling my rookie Babe Ruth card to buy identical implants and veneers for all of my girlfriends was a poor investment, though, because all I got in return was a full set of sexually transmitted diseases. Who would want that?

J Radimus

“His Collection, though impressively sized, was effortlessly collected. Causing a plane crash in adverse weather brought his single-biggest haul. His next specimen was a case of patience over effort. The reckless gunplay could have figured more prominently, but waiting for fried banana sandwiches to do their damage took all the legwork out of it. He gathered most cases by simply waiting for those fatal partners “Depression” and “Drugs” or “Alcohol” to take their toll. He thought his latest specimen was going to be toughest of all. Alas, a lifetime of eccentricity and a skoche of greed played together nicely.”

Danny

Christmas came early for Tommy.
Two front teeth; man Santa rocked the Casbah this year. He had a full set of pearly whites before any of his friends.
On Christmas day, after all the presents were open, a single card remained in the tree.
To Tommy:
We regret to inform you that your federal health plan mandates a recall on your teeth. Times are tough and so is beef jerky to a senior citizen.
From Santa.
The brass bell on top of the tree suddenly came free and fell hard onto Tommy’s mouth ringing loudly.
A president got his wings.

Erin

That pesky door to door sells man was getting on my nerves. Who would have thought buying one book to get rid of him, only encouraged him to keep coming back until he sold the full set. I didn’t have time for this Single and Soap operas that was me, life really didn’t show any signs get any better.The door bell rang. I sighed deeply and went to the door to tell him off for the last time. He smiled and instead of passing me along the usual brochures and cheap gimmicks, a rose and chocolates he had in hand.

Norval Joe

One thing I hate about being a twin is all the questions.
How do people tell you apart? Are you identical? And then there’s always, “Who’s the oldest?”
We’re not sure who was born first.
My parents are compulsive collectors. Whether it’s depression era glass, souvenir thimbles or the latest beanie baby, they are always looking to add to their collections.
One day they stopped at a garage sale and there was a kid there that looked just like me.
You see, originally I was an only child, but my Mom and Dad just had to have the full set.

Justin

“Ok ladies, the time has come for us to go to war! The time to sit around and play bingo and watch daytime television is past. We will take what is ours. We will go to the front lines and we will fight! We will face the enemy and when they rise against us, we will strike them asunder. We will tear down doors and break into the store rooms. We will find objectives and we will take them until none are left! Listen up Grandma’s, the Beanie Baby Happy Meals are coming, and we will collect every single one!

JDavidBozdin

They were grand, ornate; figures of nobility. Alabaster and ebony warriors.
They gazed on her short round body and her red skin deepened with embarrassment and rage.
Why had this power, curse, been bestowed upon her?
She wanted to return to her own, where she was considered equal and their games innocent.
Fate, not choice forced her move and she slid across the patterned floor toward his Majesty.
Leaning into his ear she whispered “Check…mate”, and slid the blade between his ribs.
Regardless of her bloody victory, they all knew a checker made queen, would never make a full set.

Anima

Pam and Jimbo deserve each other. She’s dumb as a box of rocks and he’s mean as a snake. ‘Tween the two of them, they don’t have a full set of teeth.
His idea of fun is to shoot his .45 at the dump. Pam packs snack cakes and lemonade when they go out.
“You got one!”
“Think I got his tail. I was thinkin’, fer yer birthday, whad’ja say to a fur coat?”
“Really?! Can I get a white rabbit one, from Frank’s Fur Market?”
“I’ze thinking grey, to match yer eyes – and I pert near got enough rats!”

Guy David

There was nothing left to do but go on playing. The stage have been set and there was no way out of it. We went bravely through our set, playing one song after the other to the sounds of echoing boos and an endless stream of flying tomatoes and body parts. Somehow, we managed to get through our whole set without a scratch. Later, as we set at our hotel room counting our money, our lead singer said “Never again. Never shell we sing to a crowd of orcs and trolls. From now on, it’s strictly human and elven audiences.”

TJ Aman

The President locked his steely gaze on the Dragon, screeching above the streets of Manhattan, fireballs and explosions in its wake. Taking a deep breath he leapt from Marine One, a length of cable in one hand, the enchanted sword from the capstone of the Washington Monument in the other. With a zzzzing the cable caught beneath the Dragon’s jaw as our nation’s president tightened his grip and plunged the sword home. The fiery beast crashed dead in Central Park. Miraculously, no lives were lost.
Tonight on FOX News, a full set of playground equipment crushed by Obama’s irresponsible show-boating.

Planet X

Dr. Odd observed the monkeys as they sat at the typewriters, replying to all of his fan mail.
Keeping a full set of notes on which was typing the fastest, which had the least amount of errors.
Lynda had already finished her third letter,
Jeffery hardly completed his second,
Justin had pulled the ribbon off his machine and was eating it,
and Guy, well Guy was just sitting there on top of the machine keeping beat to some imaginary music.
This was much more productive than with computers, then they had spent all their time watching porn on the internet.

Planet Z

Hyped as The Perfect Woman by every sports magazine, columnist, and television commentator, Eve the Automation was escorted to center court at Wimbledon, her silver skin shining in the summer sun.
Play.
Each supersonic ace and wicked return blasted past the Williams sister on the other end of the court, resulting in a full 6-0 set.
Before the next humiliating set was complete, the other sister ran from the sidelines and swung her racket at Eve’s head.
A dumb move on her part. Eve’s chassis and programming originated in a DARPA project, and the grass shone with freshly spilled blood.

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

Which were the best this week?
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
	Josh
	TJ from http://tjaman.libsyn.com
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com/
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Lynda

I killed my fifth husband on our wedding night. You know how it is.
To cover it up, I thought I’d take him to Niagara, do the whole traditional over the falls bit. People die doing that all the time.
The hippie by the side of the road guaranteed his magic barrel would change my life. Didn’t tell me it would bring that old bastard back from the dead and keep me from dying when we hit the rocks. The doctor tells me I’ll probably be like this for the rest of my life. My husband visits me every day.

Josh

The power was off, so were our computers. Management was telling us that we can go home, in my mind I’m already gone; paddling through the break, warm saltwater and sparkling sunshine bathing my body. Dolphins leap from the aquamarine and urge me to join them. Throwing our heads back we laugh and click at our good fortunes. Suddenly A dark wave rises and barrels above us enveloping and sucking me over the falls. I surface gasping and see to my horror that someone had harpooned the dolphins ,a shark gnawed my leg and the power was back on.

TJ

One of my favorite short-lived productions ever was Bryan Fuller’s “Wonderfalls,” centered around Niagara Falls souvenir shopgirl Jaye Tyler, a post-grad slacker with an undemanding job and a highly demanding family. There’s a twist of fate regarding a Maid of the Mist who went over the falls to save her tribe with the words “I surrender to destiny.” When inanimate objects – or “muses – begin to talk to her, Jaye finds she too must surrender to destiny to help those around her in her own unique and quirky way. The DVD set brings great closure to some fantastic storytelling in “Wonderfalls.”

Guy David

I should have guessed it was a bad idea to sneak up to a live show in a barrel. First of all, I couldn’t see a thing. What’s worst, my barrel was hanging by a thread and I could feel it slowly snapping to the sound of throbbing guitars. As I fell on Mark E. Smith, I discovered how tough his head really is. After they took both me and the barrel to the emergency room, the live show continued as if nothing happened. I later saw the pictures in the newspaper. I did take The Fall much too seriously.

Jeff

This was nothing new to Jack. He had done crazy things all his life. In the 1920’s he had even gone of the falls in a barrel. But, that was before the world had gone sue crazy. How had his wife put it? “Look I did something stupid, and you didn’t stop me, it is your fault.”
But, this was a new one even for him. He never thought he would do something like this. His right hand still ached some from the book worth of waivers he had to sign to pull this off as he gripped the plunger.

Danny

“…. he crawled in and sealed it up from the inside. I kicked him right into the river like he told me. Right has he went over the falls though, a flying saucer appeared and beamed him up. It was the craziest thing. Never saw Kirby again.”
The grandchildren rolled their eyes.
“They came for me the next night and …. where are you going?”
“Outside to play Grandpa, we are too old for your stories.”
Kickball in the backyard was short lived when the lights appeared in the sky. Grandpa put on his foil hat.

Anima

Go ahead – nail the lid shut!
I sit on the edge of Niagra Falls, getting closed into a wooden barrel. How do these things happen to me? Don’t answer that, I KNOW how they happen. If I live, remind to never EVER play “Truth or Dare” with the Knievel clan again.
I picked “Dare”, because I didn’t want to risk having to tell the truth about which of the show girls I had been sleeping with (none of them). Or worse, that Uncle Evel might ask which of the show horses I fancy… (all of them…). Minor peccadillos ….

Norval

Students milled through the University cafeteria unaware of Andrew sitting alone a table.
He spoke to his food. “Low calorie meals taste ok if you put enough butter on them.”
He watched her approach, balancing a large green salad in one hand, an armload of books in the other.
They both wore the uniform of the perpetual dieter; sweat pants and a loose t-shirt. Though hers were a feminine pink.
“May I eat lunch with you,” she asked?
He looked into her eyes. His heart felt like it went over a waterfall in a barrel.
He fell deeply in love.

Justin

One day boredom had sucked away several hours, so I decided to make a flying barrel. When I finished it, I decided to fly it to the river and go fishing. I dropped my line in the deepest waters. I fooled all the smart fish because I had no boat. I caught a huge fish. It pulled me like a balloon down the river. I saw it when it leaped down the waterfall. I soared, scales glinting in the sun. I shot skyward, fish in tow. Ocean bound, I hoped to use my prize to catch an even bigger fish.

Planet Z

Yuri of Kyyv, inventor Iron Beak of Baba Yega, great cannon of empire. Make boat for soldier, swim underwater like sturgeon fish
He call it submarine.
Soldier get in barrel, barrel go in river, not sink but buoyancy. When barrel get to city, soldier come out and burn city.
War is win.
He get five hundred troops to storm Karelia.
Submarine placed in Suna River, troops float downstream.
Kivach waterfall break barrel, drown all soldier, and Yuri executed by Tsar Rudolva.
Yuri funeral very popular, good times. Much vodka drink, much barrel of pickles.
Surprise barrel have drowned soldier.
Disgusting!

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

Which were the best stories this week?
	Caledonia
	Danny
	Guy David
	Justin
	Erin
	Dedric
	TJ
	Lynda
	Norval Joe
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Caledonia

The delicate needle pokes its sharp nose through the simple fabric. Up and over the needle goes before diving once more to begin again. The needle pulls the bright floss over and under. Stitch after stitch, the pattern expanding even as the floss changes color. Over. Under.
The hand that plies the needle works on. The brain that drives the hand wanders among random thoughts: stitches of childhood – samplers of possibility, stitches of young adulthood – forms of achievement, stitches of middle age – when every pattern seems to change. Over. Under.
Only the stitches remain constant.

Danny

Four boys walk across an old decommissioned railway bridge in the heart of the Sierra Nevada Mountain range. Vern, keeps tossing rocks over the railway to listen to the splash they make as they hit the river below.
“Dude, your disturbing the fish, cut it out,” says Gordie.
“Just one more.” Vern picks up a rock as big as his palm and tosses it. No splash.
He looks over the side of the railing. He sees his rock floating on something bare and bloated.
“You guys wanna go see a dead body?” he says to the others.

Guy David

It was no place for a submarine. The crew scratched their heads in bewilderment as it hovered over the city much in the way bricks don’t, then it started falling. As they fell, it became clear they where headed for the river running throughout this city. The religious amongst them said a prayer, begging their gods not to miss the river. The ones who had no god just stared in disbelief. As they went under, all of them, regarding of religion heaved a sigh of relief. It was then that the giant squid swallowed them whole, submarine, craw and all.

Justin

The needle goes over and under, binding two hides together. The hunt for this had been difficult, but it’s always more satisfying when they run. A simple kill is boring, the trophy lackluster. The sun’s about to rise. I hurry to finish so I can protect myself from the light. My old covering had withered with time. I bite back a yelp when the needle goes too deep and pricks a nerve. I finish and examine myself in the mirror. The seams are invisible, as are my eyes. I put on the sunglasses. I stretch. The new skin fits perfectly.

Erin

You don’t even realize it’s happening but then you catch yourself saying things like “Don’t Cry Over Spilled Milk”, “Go to your room and think about what you did!”, and “As long as you live under my roof, you’ll do as I say,” just to name a few sayings.
I often wondered as a child why my mom said these funny phrases and doubted I ever would. I learned something about motherhood, it has a way of repeating itself as soon as you pop that kid out. I find myself sounding more and more life my mother each and everyday.

Dedric

Somewhere in the middle of Gotcha City, there is a woman leaving a sub shop. After peering at her purchase, she cries out in distress.
Ahh! I ordered a bologna sandwich, but they didn’t put any condiments on it. What do I do?
Look! It’s a bird, it’s a plane! Bloody Hell Governor, what is that thing?
It’s Underwood!
Hello ma’am, I heard your call and came as fast as I could. I brought you to this Grey Poupon.
No, I can’t accept this from you.
Why not? It is a gift!
But your under wear is over your pants.

TJ

Shae
Shae’s eyes narrowed at the retreating back of Marcus, her boyfriend of six months, disappearing into the crowd up on the mezzanine. Typical. Make a cheap date for this stupid mall food court and then, what … ducking out? Just more avoidance, extra shifts at work, avoiding her calls … enough is enough. She stormed off.
Marcus
So late, that stupid flat tire! Looking down over the food court where they’d met he spied Shae. He waved, and headed for the escalator to make a grand entrance, patting his pocket. The ring inside nestled against his dead cell phone.

Lynda

Over and under we tumbled, around and around in the darkness for an hour. Just as I was warming up the buzzer went off, the door opened, and she stole my mate away, leaving me lying there as the hot metal cooled.
I didn’t think much of the wet clothes dumped on top of me until the man they belonged to brought me home. He knew what I was but he didn’t care. He even let his kids play with me, and now instead of spending my days on stinky feet, I have curly hair and the shiniest button eyes.

Norval Joe

Overall, Bill was under the impression that the orchestral overture was underperformed.
He purchased tickets to the Broadway production “Under The Elms” over Julies objection; it wasn’t her kind of play.
Their relationship was over and Julie didn’t want Bill to feel under any obligation to take her on the expensive date.
When the play was over they walked under his umbrella, through the rain, to the subway.
They overheard a couple argue. The undertone of hostility in their voices was clear.
Bill said to Julie, “I understand your diffidence, but I will overcome your indifference and win your love.”

Planet Z

Bob’s department is over budget.
Mine is under budget, and we sit in shabby rags around our mud huts praying to The Office Gods for Bob’s people to be struck down for their arrogance.
A footman in silks delivers a scented memo, sealed with gold leaf and Bob’s royal symbol.
Great. Another meeting about budget issues.
I smear dung on a rock, put it near the fire to dry, and scratch a confirmation message with a dried twig.
Or maybe it’s a trap? The last meeting was just a ruse, drawing us out for hunting.
We prepare war-paint and spears.

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

Which were the best stories this week?
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Steve
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
	Jeff from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
	Rocky
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com/
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	TJ from http://tjaman.libsyn.net/
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Anima

The walls shuddered at the thought of the realtor. What had that hussy said? It would be best to raze the house, and start over? Damn her eyes.
Certainly, it would be wonderful to be polished and primped, like before. Then, She had been swathed in brilliant jewel toned paints, and sported stained glass, marbled front steps and gas lamps. She and her sisters had been the talk of the town. Now she stood alone, windows boarded over, gingerbread broken, porches swayed back: a faded granddame among a sea of prefabs and student tenements.
The once proud painted lady wept.

Lynda

Only two designers remained. For weeks every kind of degradation had been inflicted on the false walls of studio 7, from kitschy mirrors to neon animal prints, the wooden framework and sheetrock thought they’d felt it all.
When hobo chic was announced as the theme that would decide the champion, the vivacious male designer rushed off to collect every old newspaper in the building, while the grim art school girl merely announced she’d be creating eye-catching patterns using an assortment of urines.
As newspaper was torn and squirt guns were filled under the harsh spotlights, the walls shuddered imperceptibly.

Steve Y.

The walls shuddered as the zombies surged through the narrow channels, arms flailing against the old wooden walls as they charged mindlessly towards the bait. The survivors ran back and forth as fast as they could, hauling the contraption’s heavy ropes back and forth to keep it moving. Just when it seemed all hope was lost, the blue team managed to synchronize their efforts, leading their zombies into position to deflect a shot and knock the medicine ball into the opposing goal. It had taken quite a lot of resources to organize Zombie Foosball, but it was totally worth it.

Justin

I sat down on a bar stool in the greasy spoon. I looked at the chalked menu board and decided on The Frankenstein Burger. Half pound of burger with a slab of ham, and slathered in avocado, lettuce, pickles. Munster cheese melted down over all of it. Heaped beside it all were steak fries, which I drowned in catchup. I eat it a tasty bite at a time, savoring the flavor. I downed it all with root beer. I was back on the road with the radio tuned to Rascal Splats when the walls of my bowels began to quiver.

Jeff

The walls, they did Shake
It was not every day that you got to see something like this so Jack stood feet rooted to the ground starring, despite the obvious danger to life and limb. He had never seen anything like it, and if he thought about it he would probably would never see anything like it again. The walls were bleeding at the 53rd Precinct, and he had no explanation. He thought that he had seen every form of combustion known to man, this was something new. Then the roof exploded, and out shot, but what was it? it was time to call someone.

Rocky

I was told there would be days like this. My mother was right!
It started three days ago. Don’t know where it came from, but one day in the meeting room at work, the walls shuddered. It actually happened twice, but the first time, nobody seemed to notice.
And then again last night, standing in the frozen food aisle, standing amid some senior citizens, the walls shuddered. You wouldn’t believe the panic and chaos that exploded after that.
I believe it’s over now. There was one more shudder a few minutes ago, but I think I’m safe now. My job is done here.

Guy David

The saying used to go “on the internet nobody knows you’re a dog”. This is not the case anymore, which is why I wasn’t surprised when the walls shuddered and the secret police stepped in. It was a risk any hacker of my caliber is always prepared for. I quickly took out the can and sprayed them with my special virus. They froze in place like so many statues. My government’s decision to replace all of the police force with robots was something I always approved of. I quickly packed everything and left the private room at the internet café.

Norval Joe

Two French explorers struck out from Cape Town with a band of bush men. The leader of the band of bush men divided the supplies and spoke to his fellows in a language of clicks.
Each of the band carried a long spear to fend against large animals.
Pierre Le Roux smiled at his companion Henry De Wallis. “There may be lions about, but it is the snakes that will kill you.
One morning Henry awoke to find his companion dead, his body bloated from the poisonous bite of a Cape Cobra.
Sickened by the sight, Henry Du Wallis shuddered.

TJ

Pietro countered the “less is more” aesthete with ornamentation reminiscent of Versailles, challenged the expectations of the cognoscenti, and in defiance of everything appropriate, crammed his palette with influences ranging from ’50s kitsch, plastic lawn flamingos, velvet Elvises, dogs playing poker — a celebration of chintz like nothing so much as a rummage sale in a John Waters film.
So why did they call him in to redecorate their daughter’s room while she was visiting Mexico? Who knows? All anyone knew for sure was as Pietro approached with armloads of fuschia pinatas and gaily colored sombreri, indeed, the very walls shuddered.

Planet Z

He’s four hundred pounds. She’s even bigger.
They live upstairs.
Every night, half a ton of sweaty, sloppy sex rocks their bed and hammers the floor like an angry army of screaming Vikings.
The plaster falls. The walls shudder.
They only stop when the pizza guy arrives.
Two large pizzas each, and a sixpack of diet Coke.
Five minutes later, when they’re done with dinner, they’re back at it.
For a while, I’d practice the tuba while they did it. Baby Elephant Walk.
The phone rang.
They had called to invite me upstairs to play for them while they… ewwwwwwwwww.

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

Which were the best this week?
	Elizabeth
	Dedric from http://www.lewismoten.com
	TJ from http://tjaman.libsyn.com
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Elly from http://www.connected2christ.com
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
	Planet X from http://planetxpodcast.com
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Elizabeth

“What do you mean you don’t have a fire extinguisher?” I asked Gary in a low, growl of a voice.
“Um, I, uh.”, he replied. Then he just looked around nervously. The fire leapt even farther away from the candle in the sink and started quickly eating the walls around us.
“And you can’t just psychically put out the fire too?”
“Not really.”
“Fine!” I muttered, thinking of how much the dorm would charge us for this. “But if we get out of here, I’m showing you my magical powers.” And then I showed him my claws.

Lewis

As the night turned into morning, a man was still working tirelessly
completing his latest project. A crowd of spectators had gathered
talking amongst themselves questioning what it was that the man was
doing.
“Eureka! I have finally finished.”
His tools fell to the ground, and the man started to walk away. Some
reporters quickly went after him to ask about his feat. Some of the
onlookers started to walk up to a large contraption of wires, pipes,
screws, and duct tape.
The reporters were unprepared for the man’s response.
“It is a machine to program the time on VCR’s.”

TJ

Her mother’s lemon pepper chicken and rice always received rave reviews and Sally was determined to impress her husband’s supervisor and his wife.
“This meal could make or break his promotion,” Sally fretted. “Now what’s the recipe?”
The secret was chicken stock simmered into the rice for an hour at three-hundred fifty degrees.
She’d already set the chicken breasts to marinate with peppercorns and lemon slices in the refrigerator.
She got the rest of her house ready, set the table, one last primp in the mirror … she froze, horrified.
The chicken was still in the refrigerator.
“Honey, I’m home!”

Guy David

I unbuttoned her shirt and kissed her neck slowly and softly, delighting in her sweet moans. She responded by nibbling softly at my ear. I took off my own shirt and rubbed my bare chest against her erect nipples. She reached out and unbuttoned my pants, sending her hand inside, grabbing my penis who reacted by stiffening and rising, meeting her hand half way. I shivered, waves of pleasure crawling up and down my spine, and grabbed her firm buttocks. She breathed harder as I started pulling her pants off. I was unprepared for the firm member I found there.

Anima

Unprepared? Me?
I am the epitome of preparedness. I have ready bags in the closet: red is for beach, blue for mountains and the duffel has arctic gear; my pantry is stocked with food for a year, and there is a sheet cake in the freezer in case company drops in. I’ve started my doctorate thesis, even though I have not been accepted to grad school yet. My car is current on all factory suggested maintenance, but I have a bicycle as backup. I even have a second bike as backup to my backup.
My pants? Of course I put…

Lynda

I came here totally unprepared. I had never been a human before. I had no idea what I was meant to do. Looking around me, I noticed I wasn’t alone. It didn’t make me feel any better.
Those around me taught me how to dress and how to think. I learned their language, ate their food and drank their drink. I felt safe.
Then one day the sun illuminated another path, and I wondered if I could be someone else in this lifetime.
I’m totally unprepared for what comes next. So is everyone else. I feel okay about it. Alive.

Norval Joe

I had a crappy week. It started on Saturday when Lawrence left my audio out of the podcast. But that’s ok. He said I didn’t have to pay the entry fee this week. This gives me enough money to take my wife to a movie tonight. Then Jeff left me out of the poll at Great Hites. I told Mick Bordet that I would write my 100 word story about two Scotsmen, imitatingIrishmen, telling limericks, but I was too unprepared to get that done. Well, I guess I better get into my story. No. Wait. Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred.

Elly

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on with her soft skin, and golden curls. He often wondered how he ever got so lucky as to have such a beauty in his life. Her baby blue eyes twinkled as they followed him across the darkened room. He haste-fully continued searching through his pant pockets. No, not there either. He smiled sheepishly at her and continued his search, finally finding one in the dresser drawer. Slowly sliding her undergarments down, he braced himself by placing the clothes pin on his nose, only to have forgotten the wipes.

Justin

Apparently when you die, there is a waiting area.
“Oh no you didn’t!”
You wait there for judgment until after the apocalypse.
“I taught you so much better!”
I died in a car accident.
“I told you to drive carefully!”
I wasn’t prepared for the long wait.
“You weren’t much prepared for a whole lot of things apparently!”
So I’m waiting here for who knows how long, listening to my late mother constantly berate me.
“Don’t talk that way to me boy! You’ve shamed our family. I can’t believe you died in a dirty pair of underpants! Lord have mercy!”

Jeffrey

I was prepared for the werewolf. I mean it was not like he was stealthy or anything. I had heard him howling every night for the last three weeks. So I went out and bought the silver bullets that I would need to stop him. What I was not prepared for was the toupee.
“You wear a toupee?” I asked as he bent down to pick it up.
“Well a wolf has to keep up appearances, and it was a mid life crisis thing you know.”
So now I prowl the streets and drink the blood of innocent bald men.

Planet X

Jimmy leafed through one set of photographs and compared them to another set for the hundredth time. Always with the same results, it had cost him his job, but was unmistakable proof of his quest of the last two years. He had thought at first that Lois was playing a joke when she told him during the big celebration party after Lex’s ultimate defeat.
Jimmy had spent weeks on end gathering all photographs, newspaper articles, and interview recordings until he had undeniable proof. But, even with all this Jimmy still was unprepared to acknowledge that Clark Kent was indeed, Superman.

Danny

Charlitok stood in line with the other veteran soldiers.
The commander is awarding accommodations.
Charlitok is proudly advancing to join an elite group who dawn the freshly killed head of a mighty grizzly bear.
Charlitok digs his heals into the soft earth, holds his head high, and tenses his muscles in attention.
As his commander lowers the head of the bear he feels a massive weight of responsibility, to protect his brethren soldiers and the tribe.
“Good job Charlie, next scout rank is Webelos right?” his Mom said.
The applause and screams from the tribe echo in Charlitok’s ears.

Planet Z

Yes, the motto of the Boy Scouts is “Be Prepared.”
My motto is “Get In, Get Out, Get Receipts.”
Planning just bogs you down in hand-wringing and debate while carrying tools for every occasion just gets in the way.
No plan survives battle anyway, right? Why bother planning?
Instead, you need to be free to maneuver, quick to think, and scrounge what you need on the spot.
So when the lady came up to the window asking for three Big Macs and fries, I sprang into action.
“BRING ME A COW, A SACK OF POTATOES, AND A SLEDGEHAMMER!” I shouted.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Sixty-Nine, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s That’s not thunder, it’s….
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Mick from http://someotherscotland.blogspot.com/
	TJ from http://tjaman.libsyn.com/
	Planet X-ray from http://planetxpodcast.com/
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Ellybean
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
	Daniel from http://dannymachal.com/
	Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Guy David

The rules are simple. For every time I touch her, I have to wash three dishes. For every time we kiss, I have to take out the trash free times. For every time I touch one of her nipples, the laundry have to be made three times. It’s a dangerous game, but I play, forever bewitched by my love. Tomorrow, we are going to make love. I can only guess what the consequences would be. If you don’t hear from me by this time tomorrow, please spread my remains across the river and send my undying love for my lady.

Mick Bordet

I have drifted across these prairies and wandered along this trail for so many long, lonely years to no avail, but now that I have found you and can hold you in my arms, I can’t resist falling for your deadly charms. And I wonder how long it will be ’til the day that our love is torn apart by the games that we play.
With your animal instinct and my steel forty five, I am waltzing with werewolves, in love to survive. The full moon will highlight the claws of my bride; waltzing with werewolves, silver by my side.

TJ

The clock on the mantlepiece struck midnight as Miss Scarlet entered the lounge through the secret passageway. She froze, her heart in her throat as heavy footsteps passed in the hallway. She knew what she’d seen – or rather, what she hadn’t. The missing candlestick in the conservatory, the body splayed out, dark blood pooling … it was too horrible. As she moved to settle her nerves with a brandy, the looming shadows in the room disclosed her assailant. She shrieked, too late, her suspicions confirmed: Mrs. White, in the Lounge now, poised to strike once more with her bloodied candlestick.

Planet X-Ray

Mike’s lips and tongue traced a moist path from one freckle to another along
Linda’s soft neck and shoulders. As he reached under her loose fitting
peasant blouse, he cupped each of her small but firm and perky breasts in
his hands, messaging them gently.
“How do you like that little girl? You want more?” Mike asked.
A moan of emitted from Linda’s lips as Mike brushed back her pigtails and
softly nibbled on her left ear.
Softly Mike spoke into her ear, “Maybe tomorrow night we can play nurse and
doctor?”
Linda just answered, “Ahhhh… The games we play”.

Lynda

I didn’t mind so much when my family put me in a home because I never liked those
selfish bastards, and once I discovered strip bingo night I was sorry I didn’t
commit myself sooner!
At first it was a little weird, watching my new neighbors struggle to get their
shirts off when their first numbers were called, and I regretted having my cataracts
removed when some of them got close to winning, but then I made a load of new
friends when I yelled that all I needed was an O69.
That old coot Harold Blonksy hasn’t stopped laughing.

Anima

White pawn to dee four.
“I noticed your van double parked– Looks like you could use a hand…”
The classic opening move; Does this sound sincere?
Black pawn to dee five.
“I do have two, but if you are offering assistance…”
Queen’s gambit! This one’s a little sharpie… I like that!
White pawn to cee four.
“I have to run down the street for a few minutes, but I’ve got time to help
you move the rest of those boxes if you can wait. You shouldn’t have to do
all this manual labor alone…”
Will the queen accept or decline?

Ellybean

The fact that there was more liveliness in this place than there had been
for years brought joy to the families of the community so Greta knew her
team was counting on her. This shot could make or break everything they
worked so hard for. Saying a little prayer, she swung by the sweat of her
brow. The ball glided down the smooth surface and strike, she had made the
shot!
Cheers were let out all around! Greta had proudly won. She passed the wii
remote to the next player and a boisterous man declared “Prune juice is on
me!”

Justin

Marcus turned and fled. He dodged a torrent of pulse laser blasts. Dirt
showered everywhere. A boulder exploded near him and red filled his vision.
More zombies rose and Marcus slowed as they grasped at his. Guts flew around
him as zombies were massacred by the hail of beams and rockets. An
increasing number of explosions tossed him clear of the zombies. He headed
towards a knee-high fence and tried to jump it several times unsuccessfully.
A rocket hit him exploding him into giblets.
Marcus shoved the keyboard away, shouting at the screen.
“Stupid game! Let me jump the fence!”

Daniel

I drove my silver 1932 Roadster down to the Boardwalk.
This car is a real panty dropper, but I prefer to pay for the good stuff.
I blew my wad on the hooker and hotel.
Didn’t matter.
Payday was right around the corner.
I cruised around town to Marvin Gardens to get some blow, the good stuff.
Not the third rate shit they cut with baking soda over on Baltic Ave.
Live fast, die young.
I drove the panty dropper toward my house on Pacific to get high and die.
Didn’t see that damn cop until it was too late.

Norval Joe

Kent was excited to be at a party attended by most of the freshman at his small high school.
He was chunky and had complexion problems that facial clensers didn’t begin to clear.
He sat quietly in a group of the most popular kids in his class.
Someone put an empty bottle on the table and gave it a spin. It stopped and pointed at the head cheerleader.
“Truth or dare”, the football captain said.
“Dare,” she replied.
“I dare you to kiss your true love,” he grinned smugly.
She turned and gave Kent the first kiss of his life.

Planet Z

There was only one comic book, and both Bobby and Joey wanted it.
“Noisehair duel,” they said together and nodded.
“First one to cry or bleed loses,” said Joey.
Bobby didn’t cry when he broke his arm. Or his leg.
Joey didn’t cry at his father’s funeral.
They were cold, heartless kids. Numb to the core, the world had destroyed their capacity for tears.
Bobby and Joey passed the tweezers back and forth, the tiny pile of nose hairs growing slowly on the kitchen table.
Joey drew first blood, a tiny trickle of red.
Bobby took the polyethylene bag, smiling.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Sixty-Nine, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s That’s not thunder, it’s….
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories this week?
	Jeffrey from http://GreatHites.blogspot.com
	Toni
	Dale from http://daleinnis.wordpress.com/
	Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Lewis from http://lewismoten.com/
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com
	TJ from http://tjaman.libsyn.com/
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Jeffrey

“I can’t there is just too much noise here, and if it does not stop, ill”
“You’ll what? Come on Jack, get me out,” said the harp “it is just thunder, which is a by product of the electrical discharge between the ground and the clouds you see. The electrical potential of one gets high while the other stays the same, then there is a discharge to even things out. The discharge is so hot it burns up the air and thunder is the sound of air rushing in to fill up the vacuum.”
“But that is not thunder it’s.”

Toni

The city commissioners of Valparaiso met with attorneys today in an executive session closed to the public that for once did not violate Florida’s Sunshine Law. Val-P resident Fred sat next to FWB resident Bob at a bar discussing Valparaiso’s Freedom of Information Act lawsuit against the Air Force regarding the BRAC decision to base F-35’s out of Eglin AFB, and the countersuit against Valparaiso by the city of Fort Walton Beach.
“That wasn’t thunder, was it?” Bob asked.
“No, that was just the Explosive Ordnance Disposal unit detonating a bomb. If it had been the F-35 Lightening II Joint Strike Fighter, Val-P wouldn’t have commissioners or lawyers anymore.” Fred replied.

Dale

That wasn’t thunder.
That was a barrel rumbling rough down a concrete ramp.
That was the surf, two blocks over.
It was march music playing on an old stereo,
the window half-open to the evening air.
It was an explosion, big and slow, off in the anonymous distance.
But it wasn’t thunder.
Thunder would mean rain,
and rain would drive them separately inside, out of the
big dim world, out of the lot beside the basketball court.
And that would mean another day gone, another week nearly gone,
the whole summer, impossibly, nearly gone.
And he still hasn’t kissed her.

Anima

“Bidoc Jackley, you’ve outdone yourself with this roast tapuc. This whole campsite really…. I was dreading trekking with you, you’re normally quite hopeless at roughing it.”
“Thankye, thankye, Dregrin; I’ve decided to improve myself. I’ve been reading this book – It’s called a Boy Scout Manual… I wonder what a boy scout is… I bought it from that crazy wizard Saruman of Isengard. I also picked up cheap this multicolored robe, for Midsummer’s Feast.”
“Aren’t you the Kali hobbit– you’d wear that frilly thing?”
“Did you hear that? I think it’s going to rain…”
“That’s not thunder~ THAT’S A DRAGON!”

Norval Joe

Keith sat behind his mother as she drove the family to the next town.
The rest of the family slept.
Keith said, “Mom. I want to leave the group. I know were a family, but I need to explore what I can do on my own.”
Shirley sighed, “I know Lori has become schizophrenic and Danny is using Meth, but these are all things we can work out.
The was a rumble from the back of the Partridge families patchwork bus.
“Was that thunder?” Shirley asked.
“No, I’m sure it was just Chris again,” Keith said and opened a window.

Lewis

A large rumbling sounded in the corner of the room
Jenny poked her head up and looked around
“What was that?” she asked
Her father turned to her. “It was thunder!”
“That wasn’t thunder;” her mom said from the other room.
She came into the room and gave Jenny’s dad a bad look.
“It was your father farting!”
Jenny went back to drawing with crayons under the end table
Later that night, Jenny’s parents found the paper and put it on the fridge.
Drawn on the paper was Jenny, her mother, and a scribbled brown cloud
of gas named Dad.

Guy David

That wasn’t thunder, that was Thor’s hummer coming down on the bus. The bus, being a patchwork bus just fell apart. “Oh well, last station” said Elvis. The passengers got off what was left of the bus and looked around them, bewildered. Hacker picked his computer and got ready to go. The tin man, being at last free after being embedded in the bus swung his ax and neatly separated each passenger into two parts. “Guess I can finish my coffee now” Said Goergy Ghost. As he drank, the coffee poured through his missing half and stained the concrete floor.

TJ

A thunderstorm had been in the forecast all week. The dusty town of Rugby, North Dakota, had almost stopped daring to hope. Two months into a drought, Jim’s garden was suffering, his grass was yellowed and crunched underfoot. Sure enough, Friday’s sky changed, lowering clouds scudding ahead of the stormfront.
In bed that night, Jim reveled in rain against his window, lightning flash and a satisfying crash. At daybreak, however, he saw twisted wreckage of a nearby grain elevator explosion, a pile of grain outside his house. The storm had moved to the south. They’d only caught destructive, galeforce winds.

Justin

The moon barely lit the misty landscape as Marcus drove. *
These country roads wind too much!*
He cranked the wheel to avoid, what, a giant dog? He hit his head when he
ran into the ditch. Groggy, he climbed from the car to see a miniature pony
near a broken fence. Dogs barked, a farmhouse loomed silently. Moans drifted
from the fields. Marcus saw Hungry Dead rising up. He scrambled into the car
and spun wheels uselessly. A zombie bit the pony. It kicked, shattering the
drivers window. The dead cut themselves on shards of glass as they climbed
in.
—
Marcus fumbled with the passenger handle and fell out despite zombies
grabbing at his legs. He ran into the fields. A flash of light lit the sky
and a second later the night boomed. He thought it thunder, but a glance
behind proved him wrong. Plumes of smoke rose from his smoldering car. Half
of a bumper landed beside him as his speed slowed. A few zombies shambled to
their feet near the wreckage. Traces of light punched through them and they
fell into several bleeding chunks. Metal glinted in moonlight as a towering
destroyer bot emerged from the mist.

Lynda

My father loved to tell me bullshit stories during thunderstorms.
His favorite involved dinosaurs stampeding out of a crack in the earth. I guess it was one he’d been told. He was struck by lightning three times.
Years later my uncle explained that the rumble I was freaking out over was from static electricity in the clouds. I calmed down, enjoyed the rest of the barbecue, and fell in love with science.
I told this story to the Dr. Wu when the power went out, and he laughed.
He said, “That wasn’t thunder, that was the dinosaur we cloned, escaping.”

Danny Machal

Little Jacob took cover under his Blankey to hide from the scary noise.
“Dad?” he squeaked out.
Nothing.
A massive boom and crackle forced him to put his hands over his little ears.
‘Just a bad dream. Mom says they can hurt me,’ he thought.
His eyes began to burn and water. Was something on fire?
He left Blankey’s protection and crawled on his knees to see if the
door was hot.
He dropped to the floor at the sound again and wept.
Jacob heard Mommy’s muffled voice, “Go sleep downstairs, that is
disgusting. No more chili night.”

Planet Z

That’s not thunder, it’s just the ambassador smashing his tentacles against the ship’s hull.
I wish he’d use the intercom, but his species isn’t known for tact or sleeping soundly.
I hope the reinforcement patches hold. The hull breach alarm is really loud.
It’ll be the third ambassador we’ve lost this year.
He really should be transported in a water tanker, but he insisted on our cruiser as befitting his rank.
Just like the last two.
We can’t sleep-freeze the squid, so the best we can do is seal things up and…
Red light. Alarm.
This time, you call Earth.

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

Which were your favorite stories this week?
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com
	TJ from http://tjaman.libsyn.com/
	Lewis from http://lewismoten.com
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com/
	Mick from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Justin

The sliver of moon shone onto the obscuring mists. A lone car traveled slowly along the road that wove amongst the fields. It swerved, narrowly missing an escaped miniature pony and ran into a ditch. Dogs barked, but no one came from the farmhouse. The driver climbed out. From the fields of mist arose the hungry dead. The driver unawares until one grasped his shoulder. Scrambling back into the car, the driver spun his wheels, getting nowhere. The horse spooked and kicked, breaking the driver’s window. The dead cut themselves on shards of glass as they climbed in to feast.

TJ

Tiny flecks of dew sparkled on the fine hairs of her forearms, adding to the illusion of sinful gaudy display in the encumbered moonlight. A fine night for a walk, Goody Williams thought, luxuriating in the sensation of her lustrous auburn hair, gathered by day into a proper bun, now flowing freely about her naked shoulders. Any other night the city fathers would surely flog her in stocks but not this night, she mused. Shrouded as she was in night, the deep Salem mists wrapped about her skin, she was free as Godiva and yet modest as her puritanical mother.

Lewis

I heard stories of a wise person once that lived on a mountain.
The path to wisdom was said to be shrouded in mist.
The guru’s sight was able to pierce through the depths of your own.
Your life is an open book without words.
I decided to take the trek to find the man.
I found a village where many people spoke of the same story.
They pointed to the mountain above the town; its peak was hidden by clouds.
The journey up the mountain took two days.
At the top, I found a shack with only a mirror.

Guy David

Heavy mist lifted above the graveyard. Georgy Ghost has risen above his grave, stretched and yawned, then got ready for his morning exercises. “Have to keep in shape” he told Jenny Ghost who’s also been rising. “You don’t say” she said. Her chin had fallen and she had to pick it up and reconnect it to the rest of her face. “You see what I mean?” said Georgy. He made himself ghost coffee, then they heard a loud noise and the patchwork bus came out of Georgy’s grave and made him the bus’s ghost, morning coffee still in one hand.

Mick

The old man walked along the beach, waves lapping over his feet. He had hidden what they were looking for, buried it deep in the sand, awaiting the next generation to take up the cause. His work was done and he was ready for them, no will left to run.
He felt the knife push against his back, but the pain as it pierced his heart was dulled by the pain he already felt at leaving his family alone.
They searched for their prize, but left empty-handed and angry.
Lifeless, his body crumpled to the ground, shrouded in mist.

Norval Joe

Chad stepped forward blindly, the small black box held out before him.
A red pinpoint of light flashed on the screen, and the box vibrated with warmth if he followed its direction, instantly cold if he diverged from its guidance.
He had only a few minutes to cross over and now that he was here, he had no idea where to go.
After hours of wandering, he sat, shrouded in the mist.
A short haired cat, slate grey with silver tipped ears and tail, sat by him.
Chad stared into its copper eyes.
“You’re lost, aren’t you?” The cat said.

Jeff 1

“I thought you said this island was always shrouded in mist.”
“It is.”
“What are you crazy, it is clear as a bell, can can see all the way to New York City from here.”
“Really, that’s an awful long way off.”
“No you Idiot, it is turn of phrase. What I was trying to say is that there is no mist.”
“Oh, I see then.”
“But this place is supposed to be hidden.”
“Why?”
“Because it is Avalon.”
“And?”
“People would start expecting King Arthur to come back.”
“Is he one of the Queens sons?”
“No, he’s king of the Britons.”

Jeff 2

Henry stood alone on the plain and waited. He had been waiting for most of his life, but this was a new one. He had waited to be born, he had waited in line in school, he had waited at the bank and the grocery store. It had really gotten to be a habit for him, he even waited while his mother had died last year and the doctors said there was nothing to be done. His whole life had been waiting. Now he waited for death. When it came it was shrouded in mist.
“Can I help you Henry?”

Lynda

Ven night falls and ze vild volf howls, look to ze full moon high in ze southvestern skies. Zere, upon ze hill, shrouded in mist, you may see it. Follow ze forest road, taking ze first left after ze graveyard. Pass ze vaterfall where ze fallen oak tree rests and continue until you reach ze fork. If you see a man vith a shovel, proceed with caution to ze right. Ven you spy a vooman selling flowers, bid her good evening and ride on until ze road ends.
Zere you will find ze Best Vestern. Tell zem Maleva sent you.

Danny

Sunset – two children play in an overgrown meadow far from home.
“Do you see that Danny?” Katrina stared ahead and quivered at the approaching wall of mist.
“I see it. It’s coming at us fast,” Danny took Katrina’s hand. She squeezed hard and inched herself close to him.
A torrent of wind propelled the thick white blinding mist, engulfing the two kids. Katrina shut her eyes burying her face in Danny’s chest.
“Danny I’m scared,” she shouted, crying.
The screaming wind died. Katrina opened her tear blurred eyes.
She stood alone, sobbing.
The mist had taken Danny away from her.

Anima

Hey – did you see that? I thought I saw…
There’s nothing in there – you’re such a scaredy pants. Every time you go camping it’s the same thing. Remember the “Bear”? I don’t think that old man will ever be the same. And in California you almost broke my leg with your booby traps for Bigfoot. Why do you even leave the house? Just go take a shower already.
I’ve changed my mind – We’re only out here a few more days…
Shrouded in the mist, the giant praying mantis munches on the head of a hapless camper who wasn’t so paranoid.

Planet Z

Wolfram stared at the castle on the hill and argued with his traveling companion Foster.
“I say it’s shrouded in mist,” said Wolfram.
“No, there’s too much mist there for a simple shroud,” said Foster. “Maybe blanketed, perhaps?”
“Why not just say it’s enveloped and be done with it?” snarled Wolfram.
They kept up the argument for a few minutes, not noticing the werewolf approaching.
Foster fumbled the silver bullet and fired far too late to save Wolfram.
“Okay, you’re right,” said Foster. “The castle is shrouded in mist. But you’re enveloped in blood.”
“Fuck you,” said Wolfram, and died.

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

Which were the best stories this week?
	Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com
	Houston Keys from http://tatertotsforthemasses.blogspot.com
	Jeffrey from http://GreatHites.blogspot.com
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com
	Platinum Lightning from http://sites.google.com/site/platinumlightningshow/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Lynda from http://sisterpeppersray.blogspot.com
	Laurie from http://www.myspace.com/sufferingraven
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com
	Mike P. from http://mjpaxton.com/
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Norval Joe

It was the morning of their final day on the face of El Capitan, in Yosemite National Park.
He sat on the edge of his port-o-ledge and adjusted his climbing harness.
He felt the layer of fat on his teeth and tongue and regretted eating the ‘Slim Jim’ the night before.
All their supplies were in the large pack they hauled up after each pitch they climbed. Water was limited on a multi-day climb, but he needed to brush his teeth.
As he spread hydrocortizone cream on his toothbrush, he suddenly realized why his jock itch wasn’t getting any better.

Danny Machal

Shakespeare leaned against a brick wall contemplating ancient prose.
‘Let’s face it, this stuff was drudging to read and made even the most poor pauper wish for the guillotine,’ he thought.
There was an explosion of brick and a brightly dressed man appeared.
“Art thou bored?!” the man shouted.
“Is this entirely appropriate? You can’t just…” but he was interrupted.
“Step into a SLIM JIM!” the rough looking man was forceful.
He proceeded to bite vigorously on a stick of meat. A snap was heard and the nearby grain mill exploded, showering them with bits of debris.

Houston Keys

OK, Macho Man, you ready to go buddy.
Yeah brother, I’m ready to go.
OK, here’s your line. “Step into a Slim Jim!” Anytime you’re ready.
What?
“Step. Into. A. Slim. Jim.” Whenever you feel it babe.
I thought it was “Snap into a Slim Jim.” That’s what we’ve been
saying for years.
Well Babe, change of plans. This is a new strategy, a new look.
How exactly do you “Step” into a Slim Jim? That doesn’t even make
sense. What kind of moron made this campaign up?
Do you want your paycheck or not?
“STEP INTO A SLIM JIM!”

Jeffrey Hite

It was not until he stood that he realized that his legs didn’t work. He fell painfully to his knees, or at least he believed it should be painful, because he could not feel his legs. Somewhere between sitting and standing he had been hit in the back, just below his ribs.
“You stole my car,” said a very angry woman now standing before him .
“What?”
“You stole my car you bastard, on my wedding day. He thought I stood him up.” Dumb founded he looked at her. “But we found your finger prints on your dropped slim jim.”

Guy David

Slim Jim stepped into the jungle gym. The metal rods expended around him. He started climbing, forever reaching upwards. As the ground disappeared below him a bus appeared, flying between the rods. Slim Jim advanced towards the bus, then he made a jump for it. Unfortunately, he missed it. As he fell down he could see the face of Elvis, the bus driver staring at him, then the bus dove for him, trying to catch him. Sadly, Elvis couldn’t fly as well as he could drive. Slim Jim ended as a squashed mess on the floor of the jungle gym.

Platinum Lightning

“Hey, look what I just invented. It’s a round stick of dehydrated meat.”
“Cool! It can be a snack or a dowel!”
“Looks marketable to me.”
“That’s not all. It’s magical. Take a bite.”
“Is that a portal?”
“Yep.”
“Is it safe to go inside?
“Probably. I haven’t tried it myself.”
“Here I go.”
“Ugh, what’s happening to him?”
“He’s being eaten by cactus people.”
“There go his arms. Ew. I think these are marketable enough without the portal.”
“I was thinking the exact same thing.”

Anima

Howdy Pardner! Put some spaghetti in your western role-play – Step right into a Slim Jim today!
If you need to cowboy up, but don’t have a clue, then put on the white hat that gives you the Sergio Leone backdrop you’ve been searching for. Swagger like you’ve spent a month on the Chisholm Trail, smile a gap toothed grin that shows you floss with barbed wire, and use a ten gallon vocabulary that consists of “yep”, “nope”, and “ ‘nother whiskey for me and my horse.”
Don’t be fooled by other inferior white hats – Accept only genuine Slim Jim’s.

Lynda

“What’ve we got?”
“Macho Man Randy Savage. Looks like he blew through the wall of that skyscraper, did the big diving elbow drop.”
“Ew.”
“Yeah.”
“Find any tire tracks?”
“Nah, if it was that bus his body wouldn’t be here.”
“True. Think it’s the same perp that lured the Kool-Aid man out of the Space Needle?”
“Beats me.”
A Slim Jim crunched under the coroner’s foot. He picked it off the ground and bit into it. I cringed.
“What? It’s not like he’s gonna eat it.”
High above, the leader of the mechanically separated chicken justice league clucked contentedly.

Laurie

She was ready…her hair done up tight in a blue bandana. Her body was tense and she could smell the fear in the air. . every time she raised her fist in the air the girls behind her would chant …the tears would fade and the anger surfaced. her opponent looked to be at least four years her elder. the skanky Cholo pulled her knife and her smile angered Shovay. Shovay swung
immediately knocking the knife to the ground. As the girl knelt to retrieve the knife she delivered a fatal blow, the carcass fell and brain matter spilled into the cracks in the sidewalk. The Cholo’s baby sister started screaming at Shovay
and came at her…she held up the slim-jim just to push the young one away…forgetting she had sharpened the end…as the lil one stepped into it running its point between her ribs and deep within her lung….shovay withdrew the slim jim and the city fell silent …the only sound was a faint whistle of air escaping from Jelli’s Wound. It wasn’t suppose to go down like that.

Justin

“Jim, you home? Vacation was a blast!”
He rolled in his suitcase and dropped his keys on an end table right next to Jim’s. The suitcase he leaned against a wall.
“Hey, Jim?”
The TV was on. A game waited on the screen, paused. No Jim in sight.
A look in the kitchen and the bathroom also revealed no Jim.
Jim’s bedroom was dark. On the way to the lamp, Matthew stepped into something squishy.
When he flipped in the light, he found that he had stepped into his roomate’s decayed remains.
In the background, The Who began to play.

Mike P

At Donovan’s Institute for Personal Control, we believe in your
freedom to choose. You may have been born in just one specific body,
but thanks to modern technology you don’t have to stay there. Our
revolutionary External Control System makes stepping in to a different
body as easy as walking through a door. In seconds you can be taller,
shorter, more athletic, blonde, brunette, younger, or older. Some of
our clients have even stepped into bodies of the opposite gender.
Whether you want to be a Fat Matt or step into a Slim Jim, we’d love
to help you out.

Planet Z

There’s this Broadway show called “Snap” that’s getting rave reviews.
No, not “Stomp.” These people don’t stomp. They snap.
Their fingers snap like firecrackers, gunfire, or as light as a kiss on the back of the neck.
Their big star is named Jim Slim. Each of his fingers are worth a million bucks.
Insured by the Mob, it turns out.
One evening, he’s going through his routine, and he slips and falls.
But the snapping doesn’t stop. It’s a recorded track.
He’s been doing hand-sync all along.
What did Jim Slim step in?
The Mafia snapped his legs.

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

Which were the best stories this week?
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com
	Jeffrey from http://GreatHites.blogspot.com
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com
	Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Mick from http://mickbordet.blogspot.com/
	Laurie from http://www.myspace.com/sufferingraven
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Danny

“Next!”
They shaved our heads and stripped us of our possessions.
We’re forced into uniforms and our identities raped into numbers, some have forgotten their own names.
My steady surgeon’s hand used scalpels to save people’s lives once. Now it holds hard plastic and is weighted down with chains.
“Next!” the voice ordered everyone to shuffle forward.
It was her fault for making me teach him a lesson. She was the unfaithful demon, I was the angel of justice, of love.
“Next!”
A ladle scrapped the steel drum as the last bit of prison gruel was served on my tray.

Justin

Oliver stared down mournfully. His tummy rumbled with despair. He clinked his spoon into the empty bowl, picked it up and stood. Even though what passed for food around here made his mouth numb, likely to keep the boys quiet, he wanted more. He walked up to the kitchen master.
“Pleath thir, Mah I have thum moa?”
The master leaned over, squinting.
“More what?”
“Fewd, pwease.”
The master crossed his arms.
“What kind of ‘fewd’?”
“Grue, thir.”
The master grinned, picked up a bucket, and dropped it on Oliver’s head. The bucket fell from his empty shoulders. Inside, only darkness.

Lynda

For sale: One lightly used bucket of gruel. My children don’t appreciate the healing properties of my fine millet and honey recipe, so I’m selling it along with their video games to teach them a lesson.
What makes this bucket of gruel so special is that after my son vomited in it last Thursday, the spirit of a Mayan priest emerged from the swirling chowder and summoned a delightful goblin who cleaned our house top to bottom before playing many amusing tricks on us.
Don’t miss out on this one of a kind delicacy with bonus goblin! Local pickup only.

Jeffrey

“It is always about this line with you. You can never be happy.”
“Well what do you expect. I mean this is the longest line in town and you always want to come here for lunch.”
“Their food is good and they are cheap.”
“Good, it may taste good but it is not good for you.”
“I like it and that is what matters.”
“if you say so, but I think we should find a better place to eat.”
“What would you like better?”
“I don’t know, but even the name is, well wrong.”
“You don’t like Bucket of gruel?”

Anima

Buckets of grueling tension and flop sweats wash over me. The plane has finally landed; I’m reviewing my continuation to Calgary. CHECK INTERNATIONAL DOCUMENTS. Shit. I “see” my passport. At home. A thousand miles away.
This morning, the car wouldn’t start. Once jumped, the fuel filter failed. Change plans: cancel appointments, call mechanic, hastily pack.
On the flight there’s no diet soda. I overhear, “Think this is contagious?” A child screams, “We’re landing in the river!”
Teenage ninja mutant terrorists are taking over the terminal. Is Mars in retrograde? Note to self: Fire travel planner. And find overnight express office.

Guy David

The bucket of gruel looked like a thimble at the hands of the oversized baby. The servants running around it looked like midgets, though in regular perspective they looked massive. The baby was ancient. No one knew how ancient it was, they just knew it was there long before the empire was founded, long before the wars, long before civilization came and fell. Suddenly, a bus came out of the porridge, taking the baby with it. “Thanks for taking me from that place” said the baby, his voice deep and resonant, “I was getting tired from playacting the baby part.”

Norval Joe

The orc guards were distracted from their watch by their nagging hunger. “What’s for dinner?” One orc said. They both eyed the bucket of gruel.
Silently a hobbit slipped past, making his way into the stockade. Rumors of the rich treasury inside the stronghold was adequate motivation for the diminutive thief.
He noticed the bag of gold hanging from the guards belt and thought to add it to his stash.
Suddenly the guard sat.
The two orcs stood looking at the dead hobbit. “Not much to eat there.”
“Nope. That and a bucket of gruel would almost make a meal.”

Mick Bordet

Shug sat, staring at the burger between his calloused hands.
His wife left after they lost the farm, his faithful dog died and the welfare cheque didn’t cover his rent. He was living a classic country and western song.
He blamed the scientists; they eventually spotted the pattern – mad cow disease, bird flu, swine flu, sheep lurgi – but it was too late. Mother Nature’s course correction was in place. Contaminated meat stocks led to Government restrictions: “Families can thrive on a bucket of gruel per week.”
“Bunch of damned hippies,” he muttered and sank his teeth into the delicious beef.

Laurie

When the Congee finished cooking I poured two bowls. I ache for my retired General to be young again. As I spoon fed, I began to daymare of my General pushing me to the floor. Barking elicit commands through clenched teeth. Seething with lust. Violating me repeatedly until satisfied. The General begins to aspirate pulling me from my fantasy. He spews the milky rice all over my face and breasts. I smile at the irony of my twisted thoughts and reality. Once fierce, now he is nothing more than a puny, diseased invalid. I scrape the leftovers into a bucket and draw the steaming bubble bath. I disrobe and lift him ever so gently into my arms. I wrap his gnarled fingers around the sweet scented bar of soap and guide his hand slowly over my tan skin. I search under the bubbles and confirm his eagerness for me to begin cleaning him.

Planet Z

He was The King.
He always would be, and this made him sick.
Since he was a child, the spotlight blinded and burned him.
His sullen, manipulative family withered in his shadow.
A brother, his name lost in a prescription haze, subjected to continuous disfiguring surgeries…
Snip this.
Slice that.
Shift it around.
Smooth it out.
I swear, it’s as if they were twins.
The day came to fake his death, but the dosage was wrong.
Dead.
Maybe, just maybe…
No. The doppleganger in the basement, face down in a bucket of gruel.
Also dead.
They both were finally free.