Weekly Challenge – Page 93 – The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Weekly Challenge #135 – Hey These Aren’t My Pants!

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty-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 Hey These Aren’t My Pants!
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):

Eva Moon

“Hey these aren’t my pants!”
If you had asked me what my feelings might be, were I in a situation to utter those words, I would never have guessed “delighted.”
But that turned out to be exactly the case. After weeks of stringent dieting, self-denial and exhausting exercise, I was ready to meet my old college boyfriend. But when I went to put on the pencil-thin pants I’d bought just for the occasion, I couldn’t get them over my hips, much less, zipped.
I stood with tears in my eyes until I noticed I’d grabbed my son’s pants by mistake.

Anima

Oi!, these ain’t me trousers!
They’re mine.
You realize, it’s been six weeks since we returned from Scotland.
Think you can start talking normal again?
Lassie, I’m a MacShillysheigh~ a verra proud Highland clan, not to be
trifled with. ‘Ose pants are they?
Whatever.
When I married you, you were Jack Shay. Just because you found some
distant fourth cousins, all of the sudden you’re Braveheart.
Must you wear that ugly orange and purple plaid skirt and fur purse?
IT’S A KILT, SASSENACH!, AND SPORRAN!
Fine, kilt… Just so long as we agree who wears the pants in this family.

Sougent

It was hot in the laundry room, sweat dripped down the face of James
Robert as he labored over the mounds of laundry.
Oh, the indignities he suffered for the cause, he thought, as he surreptitiously made the exchange and left unnoticed.
The next day a man wakes up, puts on his pants but notices something is terribly wrong.
“Hey, these aren’t my pants!”
A confused President Lincoln wanders down the hallway mumbling.
For you see, James Robert, Jim Bob to his friends, was a special agent from the Confederate Psychological Warfare Department.
And that’s….. the rest of the story.

Justin

Sargent Slaughter slammed the magazine into his automatic rifle.
“Corporal Simon, bring my red vest!”
“Yes, Sir!”
The Corporal got the vest then gave it to the Sargent.
“Why do you wear a red vest into battle, sir?”
“So if I get shot, the red will hide the blood, and the soldiers wont lose
morale.”
The Sargent slung the rifle over his shoulder then walked out of the bunker.
The Corporal pointed.
“Private, bring me those pants!”
“Yes, Sir.”
The private brought them over.
“Here you go Corporal Simon, Sir.”
“Hey, these aren’t my pants, I need the brown ones!”

Jeffrey

This morning there was a war between myself and my body. You see my
body didn’t want to get out of bed, I was relentless. In the end I
won the war. However, my body did win some key battles and the loss
inflicted on both sides were severe. There were the normal ones of
course: the cold toes and eyes that will not open, legs that don’t
want to move and fumbling fingers. Then there were the usual ones,
the headache and backaches are new, the razor nicked face. But I did
win, hey wait these aren’t my pants.

Norval Joe

API, New York City
A newly found archive of recordings was found at the former recording site of
Folkway Records. An untitled excerp was found that is beleived to have been recorded
by folk singing legend, Bob Dillon. All that remained of what may have been a
complete, but unreleased song, is:
We laughed a lot, and then we cried,
our love was strong, but then it died,
So, she turned to me like she was in a trance,
and I said to her, “Hey, these aren’t my pants.”
It makes you wonder, what did we really miss out on?

Mary Elizabeth

A week had passed since Krista learned of her husband’s affair, and she
still hadn’t figured out how to confront him. She was hurt and angry, but
wasn’t sure she wanted her marriage to end.
Then out of the blue, a package arrived in the mail. The hotel where Scott
stayed on his last business trip was returning some items he had left
behind. Krista opened the small box and choked back a sob.
“How long has it been going on?” she demanded. Scott didn’t seem to
understand.
A scrap of lace landed in his lap. “These aren’t my panties.”

Ashley

Jeremy stumbled across the road and into a large camellia bush. Once
there, he began to dress in a rush.
Even though he was to marry Maragaret in two weeks, certain decorum was
expected in this small southern town. Her father’s big gun also helped.
Jeremy snatched his pants about half-way up before they stuck. “Hey,
these aren’t my pants,” he exclaimed and snatched them back off. Just
inside the liner was a clearly printed name, Jack Simpson, Margaret’s
first love.
Wondering about his future, Jeremy gazed up at Margaret’s window as a
cold breeze silently began to waft by.

Guy

Dwardlwuff The Troll looked around him in disgust. Those elves sure left their mess around. Ever since the mags had them sign those peace treaties, the trolls had to treat those darn elves nicely and even (oh – the horror), with respect. Dwardlwuff sure missed that amazingly delicious Elves Soup, and those Elves Snacks, oh… those Elves Snacks. Still, those elven maidens where nice, soft and friendly and inter-species copulation was looked at by the mags with enthusiastic approval. The troll started putting back his pants, then shrieked in pain, shock and horror. “Hey, these aren’t my pants!” he exclaimed.

Tom

I heard of this competition in Texas, think it was called the Infidelity Olympics or whatever. The contest I remember was the Jump out of bed, pull on your pants, dive out the window. So I headed down to Amarillo and sign up in the novice category. I was doing pretty well until I discover the pants I grabbed had the zipper on the side. “Hey, these aren’t my pants!” I yelled just as the judge kicked open the door with a shotgun loaded with rock salt. Out the window I went in my Gloria Vanderbilt’s. Swan to the salt.

Planet Z

It is a tradition to announce promotions by running a soldier’s pants up the flagpole and making them climb the pole to get them back down.
I passed the sergeant’s exam with flying colors and I knew I was getting three bars soon. So when I was shaken awake at 5AM and told GO GET YOUR PANTS I jumped out of bed and ran for the flagpole.
As I climbed, I heard laughter instead of applauds as I reached… the skirt?
My promotion was coming tomorrow. The Commanding Officer’s secretary was getting hers today.
I slid down, angry as hell.

Weekly Challenge #134 – That One

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty-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 That One.
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):

Justin

Sad Betty crawled down the shelf. She walked across the aisle and stole a knife from a commando. He never paid any attention to her. She slunk back to her spot on the shelf. Beside her was Smiling Sarah. She giggled as the commando waved to her. When no one was looking, Betty pulled Sarah into the shadows.
“OK honey, you wanted a Sarah doll?”
“No mommy, I want that one!”
She pointed to a doll with a face that was slightly crooked. The doll was smiling. Behind, where no one could see, a doll with no face silently cried.

Norval Joe

The retirement home.
The old people sat in the dark and musty recreation room at the retirement home; the only modern thing in there was a wide-screen TV.
“Lets watch ‘I love Lucy’.”
“D’ya think they’ll give us mashed potatoes today?”
“Shuddup, I can’t hear”
“Turn the channel”
“No, I wanna watch this Chirapa thing.”
“It’s been canceled, turn on ‘I love Lucy'”
“Who’s got the remote, go back.”
“Shuddup, I can’t hear.”
“Go back to that Chirapa one.”
“What one?”
“Not that one, turn on ‘I love Lucy’.”
“The Lucy show was canceled, too.”
“I hope they give us mashed potatoes today!”.

Guy David

Chaketo Chirapa wandered amongst the corpses. None survived. That one was contemplative, this one hilarious, that other one his closest friend. He remembered the words of his mother:
“Eat your cereal, little Chaketo. You have a whole world to conquer”
He knew what he had to do. He turned on his communicator. He knew it would take many years for the massage to reach The Chirapa planet, but he could wait. He turned to leave, then hesitated. He turned dials, then he left. Behind him, the song of The Chirapa played one last time, before the underground tunnels sealed forever.

Tom

He kicked the tires, checked the cigarette lighter, adjusted the rearview mirror. The sale staff were unimpressed, that was until the Black Carbon American Express hit the counter, then two guys from the four floor race down to the showroom. “I’ll take that one.” Said the man glancing at the little red corvette. The model was from the year he was born. He was going to drive that car as fast and far as he could. It had always been time = money, now it was money = time. Hodgkin’s lymphoma = fast times fast cars and fast women.

Almo

George drove his truck toward Tom’s Turkey Farm and he thought about how different Thanksgiving was now that Congress had taken the restraints off the food industry. Hormones got the OK. Radiation, no problem.
George parked in the delivery area and wandered the yard. He paused occasionally to pet a bird. A young man came up and asked if George had decided. “Yes,” George said, “That one.”
The man took the bird away to be prepared. Soon after, the heavy steel crane lifted the turkey and the workers just managed to squeeze it into the bed of George’s pickup truck.

Eva Moon

Alma found herself unexpectedly perched atop the cabinet, panting wildly and clinging to the overhead light fixture. Bits of crumbled plaster and acoustic tile littered the floor. She glared down at the doctor.
She’d whacked her toe that morning and the pain had been getting worse all day. She finally made an appointment to have it checked. She told the doctor it was sore, but neither of them had realized quite how sore it was… Until he grasped her right big toe and flexed it.
Now he stood looking up at her in surprise. “Was it that one?” he asked.

Ashley

The transportation onto the pleasure planet Risa came unexpectedly.
Before either of the startled natives could react, he said, “I am James T. Kirk, captain of the Federation Starship Enterprise. Where are the green women? I need one for … recreation. There,” Kirk said, “I’ll take that one.”
Again, before either of the Risians could speak he stalked over, grasped a tall green hominid and left the room.
“Wasn’t that a self-motile squash that the captain just took,” said the first Risian to the other.
“Yes,” responded his companion, “apparently, great intelligence is not required to captain a Federation Starship.”

Jeffrey

Well it is that time of year a again folks. There is a nip in the air, time to put all the summer equipment away if you have not already. And then there is this.
“So sweetie what did you want?”
“Daddy, I found the one I wanted.”
“Really, which one is that.”
“The one with the red stripes and the pink horn.”
“Really? Don’t you think that one is a bit big for you?”
“Maybe, then how about this one?”
“Well that one is ok I guess.”
“Good, then that is the one I want. I want that one.”

Anima Zabaleta

Yesterday, Bob laughed in the wine shop –
“That one,” the clerk pointed to a Chardonnay/Semillon blend, “goes great with fish.”
“And Chirapa,” giggled Bob.
“How delicious,” he thought, ” Barbeque Chaketo, and a pyre of Chirapa in the tunnels… Chirapa had stolen his beloved Harriet; revenge would be his.
…
Now, Bob quaffed wine contentedly, listening to the sizzle of roasting flesh…
Was the fire buzzing?
Bob didn’t know, that, like the longleaf pine, Chirapa need fire to begin their alternate form of life.
Chirapa song filled his ears: thousands of alien sporazoa flew from the flames, craving blood…

Mary Elizabeth

“What do you think?”
“I’ve narrowed it down to two.”
“Are you going to decide today?”
“Very funny. I’m still not sure what I want.”
“Just choose one.”
“What if I choose wrong?”
“The world won’t end. How about this one?
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“You need to make a decision.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.”
“Flip a coin already. We don’t have all day.”
“Let me think.”
“Do you want me to decide for you?”
“You can’t do that.”
“Oh, yes I can. The waitress is getting annoyed, and I’m hungry. Excuse me, miss. He’ll take that one.”

Planet Z

I stood there, watching the lobsters crawl around the tank, their claws bound with rubber bands to keep them from fighting.
They were oblivious to my presence.
My Blackberry rang and crashed. It’s been having problems dropped calls and lockups.
One lobster was staring at me, tapping the glass with a claw.
It was as if… it was trying to tell me something.
“That one,” I said, pointing at it.
They took it out, and I put the phone by it.
With a few taps of its claw, the phone worked.
No dinner – I hired it as my assistant.

Weekly Challenge #133 – Omission

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty-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 Omission.
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

“Cindy, this is Jason from work and his wife Megan.” Dan ushered the
two into the kitchen, away from the noises of the party.
“Cindy,” Megan said, “I saw your daughter today. She’s so adorable!”
“Yes, Dan,” Jason said, “She looked wonderful in that dress. Did you
say you had a son, too? Where’s he?”
Dan and Cindy glanced at each other, at the basement door, then to their guests.
“He’s visiting his grandparents,” Cindy said quickly. “Let’s go join
the others back in the den.”
Neither Dan nor Cindy glanced at the door for the rest of the evening.

MARY

Overwhelmed by her own bliss, she barely noticed him dressing to leave. As he softly caressed her face to kiss her goodbye, she was startled by the cool chill of metal on her cheek.
Her eyes widened in shock as she stared at his wedding band.
How could this have happened? Their whirlwind romance seemed so perfect.
Never before had she become intimate with someone so quickly, but they were in love.
He turned and walked away without waiting for her to form a question. “You never asked.”
Rather than love, their relationship was based on a lie of omission.

JUSTIN

Ollie ordered an ostrich omelet but asked they omit the onions. Oliver the waiter gave the order to Otto the chef. Ollie ogled at the opulent onyx ornaments adorning Lady Olivia’s ornate outfit. From outside entered an overly obese officer of the order. It seemed that Lady Olivia obviously overstepped her bounds in not obeying the parking lot ordinance. She objected to the order to off-load her over-sized and orange Oldsmobile out of the compact zone. After an occasion, she obliged the officer, offended. Ollie obtained his order. It was out of line! Onion loving Otto made Ollie olive loaf!

GUY

As bob crawled through underground tunnels, he thought about his omissions. He giggled as he remembered how he omitted Harriet, the apple falling from her head after he blew it up. He smiled as he remembered how he curved Dave The Hacker into omission, starting with his ass, using his army knife. Now it was time to omit those Chirapa into oblivion. He could hear them in the distance. They where singing. Those fuckers where singing Chirapa songs. Then he could see them. He charged, spraying them with bullets from his automatic, and the song of The Chirapa was silenced.

ALMO

Robert snatched the envelope from the FedEx man. It was bulky, solid, the way realized dreams are supposed to feel.
Robert had spent three months assembling his proposal for the city architectural contest. It was edgy but not so much that it would horrify the council. It would create a three-word landmark for the city, like Seattle Space Needle or Sydney Opera House. He had a source who said the judges were absolutely wowed.
He pulled the rip strip. Stamped in on the first page Robert read: “Rejected for omission:” and the line checked below said “Missing applicant signature.”

TOM

M called in 008. It had been a busy week at MI5. 006 had been dispatch on M mission, 007 on N mission and 008 on the most pressing of the three O mission was now reporting. At one point in the debriefing M raise on eyebrow at one salient point of contention. As 008 smiled confidently M raise her Walther PPK clocked 008 in the forehead. “actus non facit reum nisi mens sit rea” she quietly quoted Sir Edward Coke. In British intelligence many sins are overlooked, but the sin of omission, never. 008 prove to be a Chalabi mole.

EVAMOON

Alma shifted her weight on the soft surface and tried not to look at the figure before her. The wait seemed eternal as he perused her record and she found her attention wandering. It really did look just like she’d always imagined it. The imposing gates, the light.
“Ahem”
Her attention was immediately drawn back to the judge.
“Overall, the balance ought to be in your favor.”
She held her breath.
“Except for one glaring sin. One of omission. You didn’t send in your 100 word story this week. That’s gonna cost you.”
Saint Peter picked up the red phone.

NORVAL JOE

What had he misunderstood from the enticing advertisement?
He read the beautifully illustrated pamphlet again.
“All expenses paid
Two weeks in Hawaii
Ocean front condo on Maui
First class seating from any mainland airport
All at no cost. All we require is you.*”
The asterisk on the word ‘you’. There was always an asterisk and you could never find it at the bottom of the page. He searched the advertisement again, realizing with horror that the bottom third of the advertisement had been torn away.
The omission of “*your soul” was what left him standing at the gates of hell.

PLANET X

Dr Odd plugged in the final connection of his latest robot creation and its head slowly rotated, scanning and logging each item it saw into its memory.
Coming to the Doctor’s monkey writing staff, the robot stopped and moved toward Guy and Laieanna,
The robot spoke, “What is your designation and purpose?”
Guy just gestured rudely at the robot, while Laieanna offered a ripe banana to it.
“I would like you” the robot said to Guy.
It was then that the Doctor silently thought, “I made an omission of not telling them that the robot ran on meat and blood”

ASHLEY

John looked across the living room into his wife’s weary eyes and said, “I think the adoption agency may have omitted something.”
Jessica simply stared and continued to chew on her gnawed finger nails.
Suddenly, a gout of flame shot upward from the crib in the next room.
“I think it’s time to feed the baby,” said Jessica.
Both husband and wife sat in silence.
Inside the crib, little Johnny purred as he slowly clawed the eyes out of his new doll.

ANIMA

Are you the next of kin?
Yea… William Tipton. I called when Dad collapsed.
You his son?
Adopted. Kitty should be here… Bill’s gone, huh?
Yes son, gone.
Bill was famous in the day… played piano in jazz clubs all over … You should see the pictures… Always dressed sharp, always with pretty girls…
Later, he and mom hooked up, settled down…
Jeez I loved him… treated me and my brothers like blood.
We tried everything we could, son; I feel for your loss; Look, there’s something you should know… I don’t think your father was the person you think…

PLANET Z

The previous administration’s omission of a Cabinet-level science policy advisor led to a decline in the country’s standing in the fields of science and technology.
As his victory celebration wound to a close, the president-elect was assembling his final choices to lead the country with him.
But the selection of a well-known science advisor was downright difficult.
Just then, a bald, scarfaced pudgy man in a grey suit appeared on the Jumbotron, demanding one billion dollars or he’d destroy the world.
The new president smiled.
“Hello, Doctor Evil,” he said. “You’re just the man I’m looking for.”

Weekly Challenge #132 – Clowns vs. Ninja

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty-Twowhere 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 Clowns vs. Ninja.
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):

ALMO

The couple sat on opposite sides of mahogany table. She with her lawyer, he with his.
She glared at him. He studied his nails.
He thought, “I should have known this marriage would never work. We were always so different. But there was a burning passion there.”
He sighed.
She sat perfectly still. She looked good in black although you could only see her eyes. They made her leave her sword at the court entrance.
He felt suddenly sad and blew his bulbous red nose, dabbed at his painted-on tear.
“Divorce proceedings can begin,” said the judge. “Clown vs. Ninja.”

LAIEANNA

Korzo the psychotic clown barreled into the fight between clowns and ninjas.
His rage rang out in a deep yell and constant squeaking of his bicycle horn.
Hariku the feather ninja, so light on his feet no one believed he truly
touched the ground, somersaulted before the clown, his sword drawn, edge
out. Korzo stopped just five feet short of bursting through the ninjas gut.
The front of his near empty shoes still jiggled from the speed of his
run. Hariku
bowed, eyes remaining on the clown, and whispered, “Prepare to Fight.”
This is awful. I’m going back nanowrimo. Bye!

JEFF

“Are you the clown or the Ninja?” The director said looking at his clip board.
“You can’t tell man?” I answered.
“Well, you have the black on so I could assume you are the ninja, but what is with the big floppy shoes?” He stifled a yawn.
“Come on man, I am a ninja clown.” I couched in my most menacing ninja stance, then worked the squirt flower.
“A what?”
“A ninja-clown, maybe I should go with clown-ninja, I don’t know what do you think?” I asked.
“Personally I think you need to find a new line of work. Next!”

ASHLEY

To one side he stands slightly hunched and a spectacle for all to see. He wears his bulbous shoes, puffy stripped gloves and a perfectly round bright red nose with pride. In his hands, he wields a seltzer bottle cocked and ready.
Opposite from him she stands, resplendent in her matte black attire. Weapons bristling from every unseen pouch and strapped gaudily across her back. Proudly wearing the black mask of the assassin she stands erect, proud and full of potential lethality.
Soon the war will begin in earnest.
Afterwards, the only winner will be the divorce court lawyer avatars.

JUSTIN

“OK kids, who wants a balloon hat!”
“This clown is lame and scary!”
“How about you Timmy, it is your birthday after all!”
The clown twisted together some balloons. Little did the children know that the balloons would be twisted into an evil shape that would eat the mind of Timmy, feeding the clown.
The clown raised the diabolical balloon hat to Timmy’s head. Two bright glints of metal flew through the air, slicing through the balloons, popping them, then burying into the clowns chest.
The clown toppled over, dead.
The children cheered.
“This is the best party ever, Timmy!”

TOM

The Clown acknowledged the ninja’s indiscretion and so Pie Kata was chosen as the means to maintain honor. Through analysis of thousands of recorded piefights, the Clowns have determined that the geometric distribution of antagonists in any pie battle is a statistically-predictable element. The pie Kata treats the pie as a total weapon, each fluid position representing a maximum kill zone, inflicting maximum damage on the maximum number of opponents, while keeping the defender clear of the statistically-traditional trajectories of return pies. In 20 seconds a 12in pie tin was complete drive down the ninja’s throat. Clown vs Ninja. Ha!

STEVEN

The antiseptic hospital stink makes it through the red rubber nose.
He shuffles faster, seeing her outside his son’s room. His ex-wife’s
distinctive braid swings over a black clad shoulder, a katana across
her back.
He yells over the flapping of his oversize shoes. “A ninja? In a hospital?”
“He likes ninjas!”
“That was a year ago! Clowns make everyone happy!”
He realized that wasn’t true as she hit him.
Later, the police handcuffed them outside the room. Bobby beamed out,
cancer forgotten at the spectacle of clowns fighting ninjas.
His real smile was far bigger than the painted one.

PHILIP

Black. The assassin struck in the darkest hour of the night.
Red. The mark lay in a pool of his own blood.
Black. His clothes, to match the night, shrouded the assassin’s entire body in black, except for his eyes.
Red. His hair, soaked in the blood where it pooled around his head, blood red.
Black. Yellow lights reflected in the assassins black eyes.
Red. Shiny, patent leather boots, not black, but red, below red and white striped stockings, on the lifeless feet.
Black. The black blade, invisible in the night, took down the mark. Ronald didn’t stand a chance.

ANIMA

The Clown: A fuschia ’72 Volkswagen, fueled on 95% personality, 5% luck. Push starts were the norm, and there was always room in the back for more kids and dogs. The Clown had the last laugh, leaving me stranded in Atlanta.
The Ninja: A 280Z in stealth black, with red interior. I was fast, but the Ninja was faster. We would race serpentine mountain roads. It took them 4 hours to free me, the night she tried out Kung Fu moves on the switchbacks.
And now I have Mom. My handicap converted Caravan chaperone… At least I still drive, right?

PLANET XRAY

The promoters were calling it Clown versus Ninja, the match that would set the standard of wrestling for years.
The Clown, Leonard Crapalotski, had just finished an unsuccessful low budget movie and was in the need of a job. Standing at 6′ 3″, and only weighing 125 pounds dripping wet, Leonard was the perfect Clown.
The Ninja, Lo Hung Wang, had just arrived in the country to continue his occupation of loan enforcement. Weighing 200 pounds with quick reflexes, Mr. Wang was the perfect Ninja.
Now, what the promoters really needed was writers and a great script for the match.

TERRY TEE

Only a few days left until the elections, and in the last couple of weeks my home phone has been ringing off the hook with messages from both parties.
They ask questions like; what is more important to you? Health Care? The Economy?
What they really should be asking is, do you think that people are dumb enough to believe the crap that each of the parties is saying about the other?
When it comes down to it, they are politicians after all, and for my money, it’s the Clown versus Ninja, what I ask is which one is which?

GUY DAVID

The plane was crowded with people in Halloween costumes. Chaketo Chirapa stayed hidden under his cloaking device and watched in horror as a man dressed in a clown costume assaulted a woman dressed up as a ninja. He couldn’t hear what they where arguing about from his hiding place, but when the man pulled out a gun he was sure he wouldn’t make it back. Thankfully, the clown was nailed down and arrested by a mean looking stewardess before the actual takeoff. As the plane took off, Chaketo Chirapa wondered what his Chirapa where doing back at their underground alcove.

PLANET Z

They were identical only in appearance. The twins were like night and day for everything else.
Especially when it came to birthdays.
Billy wanted a clown, but Bobby wanted a ninja.
“What that?” their mother asked.
“He’s quiet and deadly and all dressed in black,” said Bobby.
“We’ll have to ask your father,” said mom.
Bobby’s heart sank as he watched the clown make balloon animals for Billy.
All the kids were laughing and cheering.
Until… a flash of steel from the shadows.
The clown’s head fell from his shoulders.
“Happy birthday,” whispered a fluttering blur, and it was gone.

Weekly Challenge #131 – Asylum

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty-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 Asylum.
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):

Justin

*
What are you in for?
I didn’t do it, I didn’t make the flames. They say I did! Criminally insane? I am harmless as a baby kitten, yes, a baby kitten! Mew mew!
*
Well, I know for a fact you’re not a baby kitten.
Mew?
*
No, you are not.
Why are you here?
*
Same reason as you, buddy.
You mean you didn’t do anything? Are you a kitty too?
*
Oh no, I’m innocent, but you aren’t, and it is your fault I’m here!
Mew? My fault?
*
Because I’m stuck in your silly head! I didn’t think you’d actually do it!

Ashley

So…I’m going to visit the asylum again.
At least they asked nicely this time, otherwise I may have decided to vacation somewhere else this year. Besides, I really like the asylum. After all, this is where the well-adjusted people are. Of course all those sheep and ants scurrying to and fro out in the so called real world think that they are balanced, but myself and a few select others know differently. Hopefully the service and hospitality will be as good as my earlier visits.
It will be nice to intermingle again with people who are fully sane…just like me.

Kolek

Mmmmmm. I’m back. I’m livin the good life. -8
Cruising with my boyz. Sportin a fresh brown Armani with matching Gucchi shades. Getting into fights. People turnin their heads. Later each night, getting head. -33
Pushin on 24 sumitomos, my SUV thumps the ground with 15 subs. Alternating ‘tween Yokes and Zanzibar, O-lounge and all those other clubs. -56
Well… not exactly. The rolex wasn’t real, the armani was “borrowed,” and my SUV is 12 years old. Still better than two years ago. Still Fly. My homeys got my back; my boss cashin the bank. -92
Yah I’m called “Kolek.” And I’m back bitches.

Eva Moon

“Joe, I swear it was the strangest thing. I was in the middle of a lecture and suddenly a wild-eyed woman in a straightjacket materialized out of thin air.”
“Quite a few ghosts haunt this university.”
“Ghosts?”
“It’s true . This place used to be a state mental hospital. Didn’t you know? The Eagles wrote ‘Hotel California’ about it.”
“Huh. I didn’t know that.”
“So many of the inmates who died here hang around that the university even has an admissions policy for them.”
“Admissions policies for ghosts?”
“Yeah: you can audit any class you like but you can never leave.”

Almo

They came on a moonless night, by luck not design. The waves lapped gently against the shore but the boaters could hear it from a distance.
It whispered asylum.
The roar of a Coast Guard engine startled them. They hunkered down as the searchlight swept over their craft. They were tempted to swim. Wet foot, you go home. Dry foot, you can stay.
They trusted luck.
In the morning, immigration agents found a boat on the beach. A dozen Styrofoam coolers lashed together with twine. An agent kicked at the boat and piece broke off. “They earned it,” he said.

Mike

The newscast had reported the utter devastation of the towns of Asylum in California and Pennsylvania as a macabre coincidence. He’d spotted the telltale signs, though, and had been horrified, knowing he was to blame.
He had left a message, denouncing the regime and declaring his intention to cross over and seek asylum. Apparently, his intention had been mistaken for a literal destination, and the Enforcement Fleet had been dispatched through the portal with orders to destroy him and his hiding place. Overcome with guilt, he knew he must act; unfortunately, his suicide wasn’t in time to save Sanctuary, Texas.

Philip

Ulnar Styloid, clan chief of the Olecranon Process, glanced up from his desk. A harried guard informed him, “The distal Interphalangeal Epyphases have entered our system. Their vessels are forming up in the Glenoid Fossa.”
“Attack on the the Dorsal Interosii will be next.” Ulnar concluded, “Naturally, they will come to us for asylum.” He pondered the back of his hand, then cracked his knuckles. He spoke to the guard, “Tell the Interosii they may land their vessels on Tibial Plateau and inhabit the length of the Vastus Lateralis.”
Ulnar Styloid smiled grimly; his nemesis, Vas Deferens, would arrive soon.

Jeffrey

Some wild things happen at the asylum for the criminally insane. But what I like is the asylum for the criminally sane, those people are crazy. Not crazy insane, but crazy as in they are in complete control of all their faculties, but still totally out there. There is nothing like that place. I go and just listen to the people. In the insane asylum you get the screams and crying, at the sane asylum all you hear is whispering and the gentle scratch of chalk on a blackboard as they figure out the meaning of the universe.

Guy

Dave the hacker was sure now that Bob belonged in an asylum. When he came with this crazy idea that The Chirapa where real aliens, he just shrugged and started working on tracking them. Harriet was his best friend and the least he could do was to help that crazy husband of hers. He was an avid listener of The Chirapa podcast since Harriet turned him into that, but he knew it was fiction. He was surprised when he actually found something, so he pinpointed it for Bob on his Google Map. Bob smiled and puled out an army knife.

Anima

It was late, but Isabela had made it to the church.
In a panic, she pounded on the door.
Soccoro, padre, please help, the federales are after me…
How could he not let her in?
You will have to stay here in the church…
Please, sleep quickly; do not open your eyes until I come for you in the morning.
Brother Theodore was bound by church law to provide asylum, but he was not sure that a night here was better than facing the federales
Slowly he walked down the center aisle, preparing to snuff the candles for the night./blockquote>
Steven

I slam against the gate of the American embassy. The Marines watch,
ordered to keep the gate closed. I plead, beg, but they raise their
M16s at me… and at the policemen chasing me. One pursuer, groaning,
loses a rotting finger.
I recognize the female Marine. I had begged her for safety for my
merely political crimes, back when the police just wanted to torture
my flesh.
She slides a revolver with a single bullet through the bars. A tear
slips down her dusty, expressionless face. The hungry police shamble
down the street. I salute her and raise the pistol.

Tom

The gates at Bellevue lay their shadow across room 412. Within the man who would be president sat very still strapped to the wall. The winter of 2020 was the coldest on record when the patient in 412 stopped responding to his name. From then on he would only reacted when someone said “Hey Joe.” “That’s Joe the Plumber to you.” The asylum was the home to a number of other great American politicians like John Mc Cain, Dan Quail and someone named Rudy. Who would have thought a Libertarian named Wurzelbacher could have taken out B. O. in 2012.

Planet Z

Little Bobby is crazy.
He gathered up bricks from a construction site and made a prison for his sister’s dollies.
No. Not a prison. These dollies weren’t just criminals.
They were criminally insane.
An insane asylum.
Mr. Potatohead had identity issues. GI Joe’s post-traumatic stress disorder left him with incurable rage.
Stretch Armstrong? Far, far too accommodating to survive in society. A pushover.
That left Barbie to diagnose. What was it she did to get locked up in here.
Like clockwork, Ken visited every week. Through the glass, Barbie would scream I WILL CUT YOUR TONGUE OUT!
Poor girl.

Weekly Challenge #130 – And then you put it in the blender…

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty 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 And then you put it in the blender….
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):

Fricker

Back in 1868, Jose and myself were about to rob the 801 coming out of
Barstow. It was hot and dry day and we were getting mighty thirsty. The 801
was late as usual and all we had to drink was tequila, We were getting drunk
on all that harsh tequila until Jose informed us that he was from the future
and pulled out this fancy thing called a blender and he had an automatic ice
machine.
He sliced up some limes and put it all in this futuristic contraption and
then he gives us this juice. He called it.. the Margarita!
I’m glad that Jose Cuervo was a friend of mine

Anima

Is that a Terran artifact?
Yes, an ancient torture book I think…
This Fannie Farmer was a cruel Enforcer…
No mercy for dissidents… listen…
Beat the whites until frothy…
Quarter the chicken, cutting along the backbone…
Grill over low flame, until skin is crisp…
Or this…
Take the fruits, put them in the blender, pulse until smooth…
Can you imagine the mess?
If that’s the treatment for proclivities, I wonder what Farmer did to anarchists?
Life is more civilized now…
If there is weakness in the gene pool, it’s eliminated before emergence from the test tube.
Homogeny equals peace, brother.

Mike

No standard diet products had worked, and all were expensive. Then he’d caught the end of that infomercial promising amazing results using simple veggies and water; before the theme music had ended, he’d placed his order. When the instructions and blender arrived, he couldn’t wait to try it.
Now, he looked at the booklet in disgust. He had spent thirty minutes cubing ten carrots and cucumbers. He read the last sentence again: “Then you put it in the blender. This recipe depends on fresh veggies; ensure you have enough for each batch.”
The blender made quick work of the booklet.

Wilma

Everybody must have at least two doses of nonsense with one serving of silly each day. To get your daily dose slowly skip into the kitchen, while tempting a thought tornado to twist. Let visions of chickens in pink, polka dot underwear yelling, “I’m free!” dance across your mind’s screen. For pizzaz toss in a chartreuse platypus singing “Higgely, Wiggely Aye. Where’s my opera pie?” And let these pictures, songs and scents whizz together into a marvelous mind mousse. Then tilt your head and let the mousse slide out of your ear and into the blender. Add ice and puree.

Nika

Eyes closed. She was dreaming.
She was sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter. Perched there with the backs of her heels drumming gently against the cupboard doors. They were talking.
He dumped a handful of raspberries into the blender and switched it on high, before casting a crooked grin her way. Her nose crinkled in distaste as she watched the mixture churning together. He was saying something to her. But the words slipped away like smoke before she could quite hear. Nightfall was once again approaching, pulling her from the deep sleep.
Her eyes opened. She was alone.

Keeme

Edie, a forgiving woman, had been married to “Chef” for years. She caught him cheating again and made a deal, allowing “desserts”.
[In walks a redhead; Chef’s favorite]
“Hi, I’m Mary”
[A brief tour, then the kitchen].
Edie “you’ll be making lobster with crab-dip stuffing”.
[Hands Mary Chef’s recipe]
“When it’s done you can…”
[Mary, confused, interrupts]
“I’m here for a patient”
“I know, follow me”.
[Horrified, Mary stares]
“He must be fed and cared for by a nurse. Take his meal, then you put it in the blender”
A faceless man, alone, unable to taste his favorite dishes anymore.

Guy

Chaketo Chirapa was stuck at the airport. His plane was cancelled,
and there wasn’t another one until tomorrow. He avoided The Humans
and stayed hidden under his cloaking device, catching fragments of
Human speech.
– Had to send it beck…
– Is she really going out with that guy? Is she crazy?…
– Then you put it in the blender…
– I don’t think you should be telling her that…
– Then, I turned her into a frog…
As he listened more and more, he was less and less sure of his way.
Should he really try to gain the trust of those strange Humans?

Philip

When he entered the dimly lit store the clerk was a statue; his ancient skin, pale grey as cement; chin on chest in apparent slumber.
The clerk hadn’t moved when the young man passed him and ambled down the aisle to the frozen food.
A voice started him from his stasis, ” …then you put it in the blender…”, and it trailed off down the aisle to his right.
He turned to the direction of the receding voice and in his minds’ eye, followed it to the door, where it left him behind.
“Take me!” he screamed, but without sound.

Tom

Laura was concerned about her kitten Ralph. He had been left outside in the rain and he was drenched to the bone. Carefully she wrap him in a towel and popped him into the micro wave. After a few minutes Laura thought Ralph’s fur looked a bit matting so she set the hair dry on high and ran it over the cat for a bit. Not totally pleased with the outcome a tiny voice within said “Then you put it in the blender…” Thank God for Mom who finally rescued Ralph from baby Laura and thank God for Fisher – Price Appliances.

Justin

Should I try selling the blender, or the lighters? No ashtrays, blender.
Yes?
Hello ma’am! Can I interest you in a state of the art blender?
Come in! Show me in the kitchen.
She opened the kitchen door and I set up my presentation on the island. The old woman seemed nice. I don’t take advantage, mind you.
So, this blender can cut through… blend this newt, bat wings, and octopus eye? Wait a minute!
I tossed the lighters in the blender, hit On, slammed the door behind me, and dove out the front door.
I hate selling in Salem.

Steven

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The guests praise the drinks, my
bartending skills. It is part of why Vinnie’s parties are popular.
I used to be the bad child, “not gonna amount to nothing”; a stark
contrast to my sister’s channeled angel… until Vinnie took me in. A
foot soldier, then lieutenant, now barkeep and “cleaner”. I’d
straightened up even as gambling devoured my sister’s bank account,
house, marriage. Her debts got out of hand. Her assets
were…liquidated.
“Howdja get your Bloody Marys so good?” a mobster calls at me.
“Family secret,” I say, heading towards the kitchen.

Almo

The photo showed two people completely in love. You could tell from her eyes and her smile.
Roger put the picture in a stack with the others, next to his cell phone. He had just called her in the middle of the night to hear her voice. It was their first time apart. A man had answered; Roger hung up when he heard the sleepy feminine voice in the background.
He straightened the stack and then put it into the blender. He switched it on, then blindly switched off the phone with the wrong number still backlit on the screen.

Brad Z

“It’s simple.” Fred’s boss had explained, “Put them in the Blender. Check the restraints. The blue button engages the restraints. The yellow button unlocks the braking mechanism. The green button starts the Blender up and finally the red button will stop the the Blender when the time is up. It’s not that hard”
Fred’s boss wasn’t pleased with him at all. This was the second time he had forgotten to engage the restraints. That was very bad for business. Cleanup and body disposal took an hour.
Still, they waited in line. It was more exciting than the Tilt-A-Whirl.

Jeff

Hello
Seti Inbox message:
Hello Seti user 91b235f59a396d54g0c5f27cd5b8d168
We are very amused by your search for us. We are touched by the fact that you care so much, to spend your time looking for us, but we are not lost. We picked up a map at the Texico station, it has been quite useful. But we are not sure what a NEW JERSEY or TURN PIKE are.
We do appreciate all of the things that you have been sending us, especially the Beagle craft, it was a little tough at first but then we put it in the blender. Once softened up it was Yummy

Planet Z

I bought a couch, table, and blender at that church sale.
The couch reeked of cat piss, the table wobbled and the blender’s motor was dead.
I should have tested it before the party.
The couch and table, thrown out. The blender, I kept. Held a goldfish.
Chicks came by my place, I showed them the fish and pushed a button.
Some laughed, some called me evil and left.
Eighty years since I put that fish in the blender. Goldfish aren’t supposed to live that long.
What are you? I ask it.
No answer. It’s just a fish, right?

Weekly Challenge #129 – Light

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Twenty-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 Cenedra, and we went with Light.
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):

Anima

Ai! Mama, I am afraid!
What is it, hijo?
I saw the chupacabra! That is his shadow on the wall… he is outside!
You saw what? Your grandmother has been telling you
stories…She would have to talk to Abuela about frightening the boy.
I only see your cousin Lupito, coming home late… Go to sleep now, hijo mio.
Can I have a light, mama? The chupacabra might come back….
Just for a while…
Luz knew that soon, she would have to tell her son about the
family history, that there were real monsters, much much more frightening than some
village myth.

Nika

She sat on the hillside, shrouded by the shadows from a cluster of bushes. Gazing out over the city that had been her home for the past two years, the Hollywood sign loomed behind her. The lights of the city sparkled in the darkness, reflecting upward to paint the horizon a rusty shade of red. It had taken her months to resolve her decision on what to do next, but she had decided.
The breeze stirred, awaking her from her reverie as it whispered across her fur. Amber eyes turned upward to find the moon. It was time to leave.

Philip

Grimey black and grey tiles invited him down grocery store ailes of increasing gloom and darkened potential. Shadowed boxes and cans in layered dust offered hidden rewards.
Overhead the yellowed and brown stained palstic filtered the weak florescence, illuminating nothing.
He turned to look back and saw, far off, down a tunnel, or in a dream, a memory: the door.
When had he come in through the door?
Beyond the door was the city with its cars, and people, and places; and life.
Here was dark, an aisle, dust, and the door.
In the door was a window and light.

Tom

Fred woke up in hell. The light was dim but not dark. He looked around and saw this pleasant green glow he remembered from his childhood. His grandma’s round green
nightlight.
“That the devil’s nightlight” said Larry the demon.
“I thought hell was supposed to be full of torments. Why a night light?”
“Oh Heavens, there aren’t any torments here. The light is there so you don’t bump
your knee.”
“What about punishment?”
“Absence of God.”
“Hell that’s you so bad.”
Larry tucked Fred into bed and kissed him good night. Fred remembered just how much
he missed his grandma.

Steven

Harsh morning sunlight woke me in the field. I was beside the
gnawed-on corpse of Vinnie. Bits of shredded clothes and shredded
Vinnie slid off me when I stood up. Damn. Three weeks of undercover
work ruined because I was hungry and couldn’t remember wolfsbane.
I gave Vinnie’s corpse a once-over, not expecting anything left.
Chewed tendon, maybe, but not a… pre-paid cell phone. With an
incoming call on it.
My smile scared the desk cop when he traced the call, when he gave me
a name. Tonight, I will solve the case. Tonight, I will hunt by
moonlight.

Mike

He labored under the heavy burden, almost more than even he could lift, and began the trek home. The sun’s rays beat mercilessly from the cloudless sky, reflecting up at him from the white surface. The heat was intense, but he couldn’t stop. He had a task to complete – others depended on him.
Suddenly, just as pounding vibrations warned of approaching danger, a shadow passed over him and then a light brighter than the sun itself appeared, immobilising, searing him, until –
In the magnifying glass’s focused beam, the ant popped. The boy laughed, then went in search of more prey.

Almo

There is a time when a man has to choose. He sits at the bar, fingers
playing over the mahogany, thinking done. He stares into space for a
moment, reviewing once again the mental calculations, the logical steps, the
intuition that has brought him to this point.
He breathes and holds. He exhales long and hard.
His mind and conscience are clear.
The time for thought has been shoved aside by the time for action.
He glances up at the woman’s expectant face on the other side of the
bar, her body partially hidden by beer taps.
“Light,” he says.

Eva Moon

She noticed it as soon as she got up: she was lighter. Not thinner,
but somehow less affected by gravity. Her feet hardly touched the
carpet as she drifted downstairs. TV Newscasters were grim: global
warming, pollution, the end of the world.
She grew lighter as the day went on. By evening she had to hook her
toes under the edge of the cabinet to stay low enough to cook dinner.
Later, the moon shone bright in the window. She opened it and floated
up into the icy night. Around her countless other shapes were rising.
Spores seeking fertile soil.

Justin

Now dead, I’m not surprised by the tunnel or the light at one end. I am surprised that the light is a zippo. While I didn’t particularly believe in an afterlife until now, I’d seen enough movies to not be too surprised. I am a bit concerned, though. I never listened to anyone when they tried to tell me about God, Jesus loves me, all that stuff. The fact I was shot by cops after murdering has me on edge, too. I’m grabbing the zippo, nothing bad is happening. I guess I’ll travel the tunnel.
“Hey buddy, got a light?”

Fricker

I had a dream last night … a dream of my little girl swinging at the local
playground, laughing, smiling… enjoying life
A dream of her going off to school in cute little pigtails… carrying her
My Little Pony lunch box… enjoying life
A dream of teaching her how to drive and how not to drive like her father.
Being scared out of my wits when I gave her the keys for the first time, but
not showing it.
I awoke from my dream when she turned on the living room light. “Daddy,
it’s time to walk me down the isle.”
She is my light.

Planet X

The forces of light began gathering their troops for the battle against dark ones.
Billy Bob was one of the first to enlist into the legions of light, hoping to be amongst those who would make the assault.
The day Billy Bob was issued his Star Trooper uniform; he was so proud, parading around, showing off the power of it to his family and friends.
He trained day and night to be a Star Trooper of the mighty fleet of starships.
Billy Bob was more than puzzled when he was given his job classification, just what was a “Head” Orderly?

Jeffrey

“MIS, Jeff.”
“Hi Jeff, this is vendor Bill”
“Hi Bill.”
“Jeff, what’s the Joke?”
“Huh?”
“I got your package.”
“Help me out. I didn’t send a package.”
“It has a Polaroid of a computer screen.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Nope!”
“I told you know who to get a screen shot of the error.”
“The one with the typewriter?
“The same.”
“Maybe If the light from the flash didn’t obscure the screen.”

Guy David

Back in their hotel room, Bob was looking at his now drunken Harriet with distaste. She was completely oblivious. Bob sighed. He remembered Mike the hacker’s ass, rising and falling rhythmically above his Harriet, both of them so deep in ecstasy that they didn’t noticed the light in the hallway or the fact that he was standing there, staring at them before he went back out into the street. He looked at that Burroughs book Harriet brought with her. He stared at the apple he just took a bite off. “Let’s play a little game of William Tell” he said.

Wilma

Planet Z

Brother Theodore closes the door to the church and goes from candle to candle, gently snuffing each with a brass implement caked in ancient wax and soot.
“We will not clean it until Christ’s return,” said his predecessor, just as he has taught his own eventual replacement.
“When do I light them?” asked Theodore.
“You don’t,” said the old priest hastily. “They light themselves. And don’t get curious about it. Just… believe.”
Theodore stayed up to watch. Every rector of the church did it. And every rector regretted it afterward, the sight of a smiling demon licking each wick aflame

Weekly Challenge #128 – Airplane

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Twenty-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 Brad Z, and we went with Airplane.
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):

GUY DAVID

Meeting Harriet and Bob left Chaketo Chirapa a little shaken. Harriet
was friendly enough, though a little too friendly, but Bob, that was
another matter altogether. There was a look in his eyes Chaketo
Chirapa didn’t like at all. He though about his Chirapa, left alone
without a leader while he was out meeting podcasters, actors and
people in strange alien suits that looked nothing like the real
aliens he had seen in pictures back home. Home. He could almost see
the underground tunnels. A sudden wave of yearning washed over him.
He decided to catch the next airplane home.

JEFF HITE

“Look, up in the sky.”
“Hey, is that the Flashback?”
“Come on, you know the Flashback doesn’t fly. It must Superguy!”
“Are you crazy? Superguy’s costume doesn’t look anything like that. Maybe it is one of the of league of bad guys.”
“Do they even have anyone that can fly like that? I thought they all had machines to help them fly.”
“True, true. Then who could it be?”
“What are you guys doing?”
“Oh Hi, we are trying to figure out what super hero that is up there.”
“Really? Where?”
“Right up there.”
“That thing?”
“Yup that one.”
“Dudes that’s and airplane.”

Justin

The Kamikaze pilot drank and began trying to impress the girl next to him with a war story.
My Zero lifted from the runway and I flew high into the air. It was my sole duty and honor to die that day. I flew in with the sun at my back so the enemy could not easily see me. But there were already enemy airplanes flying, and from the side, they spotted me! I dodged their fire, shooting one plane down, then flew my Zero into the side of a destroyer, leaving a deadly wound.
When did this happen?
Tomorrow.

Tom

They gather about the bamboo frame representation of the sky god. They had been gathering since 1937. When the oxford anthropologist inquire to the deity’s name a older Micronesian told her they called the god Amelia. Some what rattled by the revelation she asked if the old woman had actually talked to the aviator. “Sure, want to meet her?” After climbing to the top of Myamypoa the anthropologist spied the Lockheed Electra 10E. There in the cockpit was Earhart speaking calmly into a radio set who’s battery had long been dead. Her battery however was good for another 1000 years.

Steven the Nuclear Man

College-ruled paper had never looked so violent before.
“Rat-a-tat-tat!” Sam maneuvered the folded remains of the notepad
into familiar twisting dogfights. “K-pow!” One, then two paper
planes went down in imaginary flames.
My old injuries ached, and I shifted against the smooth leather of my
chair. Who had told my grandson? Who had let him watch the video?
“Then,” the boy narrated, “the bastards snuck up from behind and …
boom!” The last plane – my plane – spiraled to the green carpet.
“That’s how it happened, right grandpa?”
I rose, balanced on my prosthetic legs, and left the house in silence.

Brad Z

Yellow wands taxi the aircraft into place. A grateful Tomcat kneels in
gratitude and prepares for flight once again. Maintenance personal
scurry around the aircraft in a well choreographed dance that
completes the final check. Raw power illuminates the night as fire
erupts from the exhaust. Vibration rattles to your bones as full power
is reached. Personal signal everything is go. Salutes are given. The
catapult speeds down the deck with the aircraft in tow and the Tomcat
becomes airborne once again. Jet blast deflectors are lowered. The
dancers await their next partner as she taxis up to the catapult.

Wilma

What’s a lovely like you doing at Sid’s?
I love the romantic atmosphere scented with sweat and grease, a real ladies’
place. What’s your story cowboy?
Name’s Airplane. I ride with the Angels.
Why Airplane?
I have powerful legs. I propel myself off my bike and fly with my arms out
to the side, like an airplane.
Do you do that for shits and giggles?
Nah. For the biker bros. I fly over them I tap them on their third eye
giving them a vision they need to see.
And you roll with the Hell’s Angels?
No, not those angels.

Laieanna

“Welcome to Angel Planes where we take you beyond the sky.”
“Angel. You mean I’m…”
“How else would you come to the halfway point?”
“But mankind has planes.”
“Thank the muses. Name?”
“I remember driving but…what was that?”
“Realization. Let’s move on. Name?”
“Edward Nelson.”
“Oh dear. I’m afraid you’re not booked for a flight, sir.”
“Why not? Are you saying I’m going down there?”
“Unfortunately. Just take that hall to your left and when you reach..”
“I’m flying to damnation?”
“Not at all. When you reach the end of the hall, take the helevator. It
goes straight to ground floor.”

Anima

Uncle Louie is magical when he makes airplanes.
A crease here, a fold there, and then he blows a little fairy dust under the
wings to make them fly right.
He’s so good, he even gives his planes windows.
“Why windows?” I asked
“So people can look out, silly.”
A few puffs, and I have a fleet!
Evening settles in, I want something more.
“Do planes fly when they’re on fire?”
“Hmmm…Let’s walk down to the lake and find out….”
I light wings and launch the planes over the water.
“Ooooo! Look! you can see the people panicking inside!”

Mike

(text missing)

Planet Z

Back in WW2, I worked on decoys.
Inflatable tanks. Rubber soldiers. Balsawood airplanes.
One night, while manning the lights at a fake airfield, a colonel arrives on a motorcycle and yells for a plane.
The Red Baron is on the loose! He shouts.
Drunk as a skunk.
Before I can stop him, he’s hopped in a decoy fighter and yelling for the
crew to arm him and taxi him to the runway.
My laughter stopped when the rubber men began to stir.
I didn’t come out of the tower until after he landed, hoisted shoulders-high to the empty Officers Club.

Weekly Challenge #127 – Ikea

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Twenty-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 Justin NWAAAAAAAAAAARRRRMMMM Space Turtle, and we went with IKEA.
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):

Brad Z

Management is always sending us overseas to keep a eye on sales. It’s ridiculous. Sales are always great. Need something to spice up your pad? Then you shop our stores like everyone else. I’m starting to hate these trips. I want hazard duty pay. Last month Fred was stepped on by some giant lizard. Two others got it by a giant moth. Then there was ………… what was that. IKEA! Hey that’s trademarked! Crap, marketing is going to hate this. Wonder what you would call a giant space turtle anyhow? Ouch, Justin just got stepped on. That’s gonna leave a mark.

Mike

The news helicopter hovered over the neighborhood, recording images of the storm’s devastation. Everywhere, the broken shells of single story homes were visible among the piles of debris. Suddenly, the camera zoomed in on a man clearing the yard in front of an apparently undamaged home. A news crew was dispatched.
Upon arriving, the reporter noted the house’s odd composition and asked the man what it was, and how it had helped the house survive.
“38 premium wall units from Ikea,” he replied. “That building permit guy pitched a fit, when he first saw it. This oughta shut him up.

Tom

Grandma kicked the bucket yesterday. We really didn’t like her that much she was grandmama from hell. Jack wanted to stuff her in a glad lawn bag, but Cindy Lou thought that was a bit extreme. After rolling some change we had sitting around in pint glasses we headed down to the local Ikea. It seems they just opened a interment department. We got a nice simulated oak patterned coffin with simulated brass fittings. Everything fit in the back of the Subaru. Now all we got to do is put it together. Lets see Peg A goes in slot B.

Justin

Thor and Loki gathered a pencil and a store map. In the Ikea showroom, Thor wrote down row and bin numbers for the desired items, asking Loki for advice. Ikea was the best place to get magical weapons and armor in Asgard. Down in the self-serve warehouse, Thor gathered up his items. Mjöllnir, a mighty hammer, Megingjord, a strength boosting belt, and Járngreipr, special iron gloves to wield the hammer. At the checkout, Thor got some meatballs for the dinner he’d want after fighting giants. Ikea no longer sells mythic weapons, but the item naming system is still in use.

Patti

Ikea?
yes; of course l remember, all those years ago.
We met, and l fell in love. Strong and beautiful, smooth, sensual.
Looking sleek and suave, unusual in a button tufted and ruffled world.
Glowing wood veneer, rich leather, a tactile delight.
Exotic umlaute to tickle my tongue.
Oh Ikea, I wanted you so; desired you, needed you. Only distance kept us apart.
Meeting again by chance recently, I found you have changed. l barely recognized you. Maybe its me, l don’t know.
All l know is that I cried that night. We had a chance once, but nevermore.
So keep your puce pouf and your overpriced storage solutions! My heart is broken.
You are dead to me.

Anima

IKEA customer service, how can I help you?
Yes, I bought a desk…. The hardware packets are missing; if I give you the part numbers….
Box it up and return it to IKEA, and we’ll give you a new bed frame.
I bought a DESK, the Skandobirk,,, really, I just need hardware. I live out of state….
Can you mail it to me? I’ll pay postage –
I’m sorry… If something’s missing, you can get a refund, or make an exchange. Please use the original packaging, and include all hardware and instructions…
MUHAHAHAHA!
IKEA customer service, how can I help you?

Guy David

As an antique dealer, Harriet was always appalled by Ikea, but that
was nothing like the shock when she saw the lobby furniture at the
Hyatt Regency Atlanta. This was forgotten however when she spotted
Sigler and Hutchins, the podcasting twins. She rampaged forward to
give the unsuspecting podcast novelists a huge hug. They where saved
though when she spotted that Chirapa fellow. Bob dragged alone as she
went over to assault the poor alien with hugs and kisses. For a
minute, bob and The Chirapa’s eyes met. Bob was shocked and
surprised, as he realized The Chirapa were real.

Sougent

Oh lordy, Ike, he be a comin’ soon now. He gonna be blowin’ us away.
Jim Bob, youse worrying too much.
Ain’t no way Ike’s a gonna be doin any blowin’ away dis week, he be’s
in da hospital gettin’ brain surgery.
Doncha remember, his gal done hit him on de head wid de fryin pan.
Well, he ain’t gonna like this none, was bad enough we “borrowed” his
car ta go get us some beer, but you had ta go and run right into the
side of his trailer, nearly kilt his dawg.
Ike, he’s a gonna be mad.

Cenedra

I turned off the ignition, looked out the window, and felt a sense of nostalgia take over me.
“When I was a little girl I used to come here. I remember the nights we played hide and seek until it got dark and our parents came to get us. I remember playing tag in the winter, laughing as we tried to run in deep snow. There was that one weekend when Tammi broke her arm. We didn’t know what to do, we were so scared.”
“What’s that honey? No. It wasn’t IKEA back then, there used to be trees here.”

Daphne

Over the years since IKEA opened I’ve found myself wandering the showroom looking at displays and picking up stuff. Sometimes practical, sometimes needed and sometimes odd objects find their way into my recyclable blue bag. I have dishes from there, a bench that holds shoes and sits at the end of my bed, freestanding kitchen cabinets in my craft room and a stuffed rat that sits on my desk. Sometimes I have planned shopping trips, sometimes it’s just something to do on a rainy day. I went there after my Dad’s surgery. I bought a heart shaped pillow with arms.

Wilma

How was the Cowgirls Convention?
Not bad.
Anything interesting this year?
Yup. One unusual booth with a banner sayin’ ‘You too delicate to ride a bronc?’ That roped in alot of girls. Get this: it was a vibrator company called Buckin’ Broncs.
Really? Have they ever had vibrators at a convention before?
Once. In Vegas. But this booth offered a challenge with one of its models called Bronc Ike–Yee-Haw. The lady at the booth claimed Ike would have you hollerin’ yee-haw before the 8 second bell rang.
No shit? Did you give it a ride?
Yee-Haw, baby, Yee-Haw

Laeianna

When Ikea actually came to Lisa’s podunk town, every resident of Wind Willow Trailer Park scrounged up their savings, turned in cans, and searched cushions to find whatever money they could to buy items for making their small living space a modern home. Lisa stuck with her old furniture, opting to spend on something different.
Not long after, the boredom set in, folks seeing the same thing in their neighbor’s trailer, and Lisa got used to the park watching her swim in her spacious pool. She even had occasional entertainment when someone would step to close to the electric fence.

Thomas

Louis’ was a modular life. Everything in his life was interchangeable and compact. Nothing was permanent, from his shoebox apartment to his relationships. He saw Ikea as the ideal of his existence, with it’s slim packaging, and clean, tidy looks.
When Lou was married he easily relegated his wife to a small compartment of his soul, which was just as easily removed after the divorce. His friends were removed as fast as one cross word or angry glance.
Louis’ ashes were buried in a small metal box purchased from Ikea. A fitting end to a small, bitter, lonely old man.

Planet Z

Things were rough at Shawshank.
Too many men going in, not enough coming out.
Two men to a bed at one point. Good for The Sisters, but not for keeping the peace.
The prison was ordered by the courts to buy new furniture for the inmates.
The warden got himself a huge budget for it, then cheaped out, buying from IKEA.
You know how they always have parts left over after you make something?
Makes good ladders, tunnel supports. One man even rigged up a DaVinci glider.
Solved the overcrowding problem overnight.
Just Old Red, sitting in the yard, laughing.

Steven the Nuclear Man

The door pounds again, bending under the strain. “What the hell is…”
Sarah is ash grey, eyes wide beneath her dreads. Overstrong
sandalwood incense still makes me want to sneeze, but now I can smell
something else underneath. Something stale copper.
“Missy said,” Sarah’s voice is a squeak, “she’s becoming a sangui…
doing some vampire thing with these hot college guys…” There is a
scratching at the window, and I know we can’t escape.
“Put your clothes back on, baby,” I tell her, counting the hours until
sunrise. I smash the wood furniture, making impromptu stakes.
Thank God for Ikea.

Weekly Challenge #126 – Fuzzy Dice

13400054

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Twenty-Six, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
Yeah this went an extra week. Sorry about the delay, but there was a little deal with some wind… some rain… flying cows, all that crap.
The topic this week was selected by Fricker Fracker, and we went with Fuzzy Dice.
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):

JUSTIN

He brought what?
Fuzzy dice!
I thought Dungeons and Dragons used twenty-sided dice.
It does, but this guy had twenty-sided fuzzy dice!
Was it some kind of joke, or what?
He insisted on playing with the dice! He rolled with them and everything!
They worked?
Apparently. They seemed to work like any other dice, other than they were fuzzy.
Was he cheating?
Don’t think so, normal rolls. Some lucky rolls, some bad ones.
Did anyone say anything?
Just a few weird looks.
Maybe next time he’ll bring the ones that you hang on your rear view mirror like everyone else.

TOM

Darlene and Bobbie where high school sweethearts. They got married the year after Bobbie graduated. His dad got him a job at the steel mill, and grandma Robert got Bobbie a 1948 De Soto. Darlene got Bobbie a pair of fuzzy Dices. After hanging them up on the rearview mirror they climb into the backseat and set about making Little Rob. Years later Little Rob would ask why she called him fuzzy dice. She would just blush and then start crying. Bobbie got drafted in 49 and was buried in 50. Darlene put the fuzzy dices on his flag draped coffin.

STEVEN SAUS

The thrum of the idling engine couldn’t keep up with my nervous
heartbeat. My luck couldn’t screw us over this time. All I had to do
was drive the getaway car. Just skill and planning. I touched the
soft pink dice sitting beside me. Nothing distinctive about me, the
car, or the day. Just a run of the mill bank robbery.
The joyriding kid’s car squealed out of control around the corner and
smashed into the side of mine. Two flips and I stopped upside down.
My dice tumbled into my blood pooling in front of me.
Lucky seven. Great.

WILMA

“Dude. What’s up with the dice chillin’ in the pear bowl?” A bowl with green pears and large, orange, fuzzy dice was sitting on the table. Jeremy eyed the dice and rolled his eyes. “My roommate is nuts. I don’t understand anything he does.”
“Nuts or not, dice with pears rolls past crazy into insanely weird.”
Jeremy found it increasingly difficult to explain the orange dice lounging about the house, considering he barely understood why they were here. They just appeared one night speaking heavily accented English telling him they had an experiment on terra and they must stay here.

GUY DAVID

The door of the car opened silently and closed without notice. The fuzzy dice below the rear-view mirror swayed slightly as the wheels started turning. The car moved slowly down the road, driver unaware of his hidden passenger. The hidden passenger couldn’t see the road where he was, so he listened carefully, savoring each sound. They reached Atlanta by noon, and the Hyatt Regency Atlanta in the afternoon, where Chaketo Chirapa slipped out of the car and into the building, where he made sure no-one was watching before he took off his cloaking device. He was at DragonCon.

ANIMA

Asphalt is consumed by my Galaxie 427, the miles marked by hypnotic dashes flying by.
Fuzzy dice hang from the rearview mirror of my mind, bouncing with every bump in the road… a glance into that mirror reflects a panoply of awards and indiscretions. There’s only one answer: step on the accelerator.
A prickling of neck hairs brings my attention to the road again.
Headlights blind me, I hold steady, muttering anathema.
One final, hard jounce and it’s fresh pavement.
How long will it last?
No telling, but I enjoy it for the moment, and bear down on the accelerator.

Comeoncomeoncomeon
Stupid Neon won’t start again. Lemme try once more…
I’m gonna be late and I’ve already missed the bus.
Comeoncomeoncomeon
I shouldn’t… Strange things happen when I do…
But once Geoff entertained the thought, he was possessed.
Reaching over, he popped the glove box and took out the fuzzy dice.
The final act was to hang them on the rear view mirror.
This time when he turned the key– there was no anemic 4 cylinder chug,
It was the throaty rumble of a 58 Fury V-8, toreador red, iceberg white.
Lighting a Lucky Strikes, Geoff growled, “Let’s roll, baby”.

BRAD Z

Over here you will see a relic that was recently recovered during the dig. Although we are not sure what the exact purpose of this device was. It is my belief that it was a communications device. You can see each side of the cube has a series of dots on it, ranging from one to six dots. The artifact was suspended in between the occupants seats from a reflection device. Clearly it had something to do with video conferencing. However, some of my colleges seem to think this was merely an item of decoration, hence the fuzziness. What rubbish.

CALEB

My first job in College, working at Wal-Mart was tough. In the afternoons you get a lot of young housewives coming in just for adventure. One lady said she wanted to rub my fuzzy dice and then yelled at me when I took her to the automotive section. Another one said she wanted to put my kielbasa in her mouth and then got mad when I brought her to the butcher counter. Finally, I wised up and when a young woman came in saying she really needed a screw… I got fired for not taking her to the hardware section!

MORTICIAN

It was two in the morning and we both still had a good buzz from the liquor, so I knew I was getting some action tonight. The foreplay was brief as she was as ready for this chance encounter as I.
Maneuvering myself on top of her I began with the first penetrating thrust to bring us to ecstasy. I thought I heard a giggle emanating from her but was sure it was my imagination. On the second and third thrust her laughing became so uncontrollable that I shrunk into oblivion.
Standing in the bathroom I looked down with the realization that it wasn’t such a good idea having my testicles replaced with two fuzzy dice.

PLANET X

The brochure claimed that |Waunakee was the Bigfoot capital of in the
nation.
All the stores carried every type of t-shirt, statue, or picture of the
mythical creature.
The museum even showed documentaries of actual sightings and had several
displays of how Bigfoot might look.
So, when, on a Wednesday afternoon, Bigfoot came calmly walking down the
main street, people stopped what they doing and stared at the beast not
believing what they saw.
As the crown stood there in awe, the only words spoken were Little Cindy
Lou’s
“Boy, look at the big set of Fuzzy Dice on him!”

ALMO

She reached from the passenger seat, wearing a sly smile and a halter top, each worn the way only 20-year-old girls can.
She cupped her hands and I felt suddenly warm. She turned in her seat and cradled them. She unbuckled the belt and leaned over them, brushing a fingernail over the light fuzz and then, surprisingly, blowing on them, the way you would at a Vegas crap table. I jumped when she nuzzled them and smiled.
The ride ended too soon. And when I opened her door I watched the fuzzy dice swing from the rear-view mirror.

EVA MOON

The phone rang.
“Now what?” thought Alma.
An incident at school. Could she come meet her son in the principal’s office right away?
Alma sighed. She had this fantasy of serving perfect gourmet meals to her smiling family around the dining room table. But whenever she started, there was some interruption. She reluctantly dumped the neatly diced cubes of carrots and onions into a Tupperware container and grabbed her car keys.
That was Monday. Tuesday night was dentist appointments. Wednesday, band practice. Thursday she worked late. Finally, on Friday she pulled out the Tupperware container and peered inside: fuzzy dice.

JEFFREY HITE

“Dice! Give me a set of dice.” I held out my hand, and felt the soft fuzz something he placed there.
“There you go sir.”
“What are these?” I asked staring at the two huge stuffed amalgams in my hand.
“A set of dice like you asked.”
“These aren’t dice, they’re, they’re toys I need some real dice” I screamed.
The minder stared at me piteously with his bright red eyes before responding, “Mr. Staley, you know that the price of your reanimation was that you could no longer gamble so these are they best i can do for you.”

SOUGENT

“I don’t know about this Eddie.”
“Scared, huh?”, Eddie said with a smile.
“After last time, wouldn’t you be?”
“What’s the matter? A little projectile vomiting never hurt anybody.”
“Why do I always get railroaded into being the guinea pig for your experiments?”
“Because you’re a masochist.”, he said with a smirk.
“Ok, what are you calling your concoction this time?”
“You’ve heard of the Fuzzy Navel? I call this the Fuzzy Dice.”
He pushes a glass toward me.
Reaching out cautiously, I pick up the drink, glance at Eddie and take
a sip of it.
“Oh no, not again”

LAIEANNA

“I want them to be exactly like this.”
“Do you really want them this boxy?”
“It’ll make me unique, and I need that.”
“It’s going to be tricky, but I can handle it. However, with more risk in something this radical, I’m going to need more money.”
“I scraped up enough. Work will help me make it back fast.”
“Say, look at that stripper! She has cube breasts.”
“That’s so hot! I wonder what they feel like.”
“Probably as soft as a plush toy.”
“Look, there’s a sign! Fifty dollars for a feel?”
“That’s so cheap!”
“Oh boy, I’m there!”

PLANET Z

Vegas was abandoned after the terrorists unleashed the mold.
It’s impossible to kill it all at once, so we extract a few tons of material a day, boil off the mold, and recycle it for Reno.
Gold leaf, ivory chairs, building steel, road concrete… most of all, the precious copper from the wiring.
Paper and plastic end up getting burned.
All those cards and dice, fuzzy and browned over – what a waste.
Every now and then, a looter in an environment suit goes after a painting or a statue.
Some survive to be arrested, but most die.
Another bad gamble.

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #135?
	Eva Moon from http://evamoon.net/
	Anima Zabaleta from http://zabbadabba.com
	Sougent from http://sladventures.sougent.com/
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogpspot.com/
	Norval Joe
	Mary from http://randomness-of-me-blog.blogspot.com/
	Ashley
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com/
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #134?
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Anima Zabaleta from http://zabbadabba.com
	Jeffrey from http://GreatHites.blogspot.com
	Ashley
	Eva Moon from http://evamoon.net/blog/
	Almo
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com/
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
	Mary from http://randomness-of-me-blog.blogspot.com/
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #133?
	Steven from http://ideatrash.blogspot.com
	Mary from http://randomness-of-me-blog.blogspot.com/
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Guy from http://www.guydavid.com
	Almo
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
	Eva Moon from http://evamoon.net
	Norval Joe
	Planet X from http://planetxpodcast.com/
	Ashley
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #132?
	Almo Schumann
	Laieanna from http://hodgepodgepoint.libsyn.com/
	Jeff from http://GreatHites.blogspot.com
	Ashley
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Tom from http://midi.libdyn.com
	Steven from http://ideatrash.blogspot.com
	Philip
	Anima from http://zabbadabba,com
	Planet Xray from http://planetxpodcast.com
	Terry Tee from http://www.terrytee.com/
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #131?
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Ashley
	Kolek
	Evamoon from http://evamoon.net
	Almo
	Mike
	Philip
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
	Guy from http://guydavid.com/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Steven from http://ideatrash.blogspot.com/
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #130?
	Fricker Fracker from http://www.thefrickerfrequency.com
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Mike
	Wilma
	Nika from http://www.nikadreamscape.wordpress.com
	Keeme from http://darpodcast.wordpress.com
	Guy from http://guydavid.com
	Philip
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Steve from http://ideatrash.blogspot.com
	Almo
	Brad from http://inventors.about.com/library/inventors/blblender.htm
	Jeff from http://GreatHites.blogspot.com
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #129?
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Nika from http://diamondrust.mypodcast.com
	Philip
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com
	Steven from http://ideatrash.blogspot.com
	Mike
	Almo
	Eva from http://evamoon.net
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Fricker from http://www.thefrickerfrequency.com
	Planet X from http://planetxpodcast.com
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	(Wilma)
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

What stories do you think were the best of Weekly Challenge #128?
	Guy David from http;//guydavid.com
	Jeff Hite from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
	Steven the Nuclear Man from http://ideatrash.blogspot.com/
	Brad Z from http://mutecow.net/
	Wilma
	Laieanna from http://hodgepodgepoint.libsyn.com/
	Anima Zabaleta from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Mike
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories from Weekly Challenge #127?
	Brad Z fromhttp://mutecow.net
	Mike
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
	Justin http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Patti
	Anima http://zabbadabba.com
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Sougent http://sladventures.sougent.com
	Cenedra from http://censtwocents.blogspot.com/
	Daphne http://www.daphneabernathy.com
	Wilma
	Laeianna http://hodgepodgepoint.libsyn.com
	Thomas
	Steven the Nuclear Man from http://ideatrash.blogspot.com/
	Planet Z

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