Category: Weekly Challenge

Welcome to the eighty-fifth Weekly Challenge, 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 Houston Keys.
It’s Naked Twister
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

What were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #85?
	Coal Cracker
	Tom from Footnote
	Guy David from The Sixteenth
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Yxes from Podmafia
	Planet Z
pollcode.com free polls

Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

---

COAL CRACKER

The mail arrived on a chilly winter morning. It arrived just in time. It was just what was needed to cure the winter doldrums. The envelope was addressed to my wife and me. Inside was an invitation. The cover of the invitation contain four equal-sized circles. One green. One yellow. One blue. And one red. The green circle displayed the address of the party. The yellow circle contained the date. The blue circle showed the time. Inside the red circle was a smiley face. The inside of the invitation contained just two words: Please come.

TOM

Emily loped across the barnyard towards Henry. He held the steel plate to the cellar. The wind whipped Kansas dust into his eyes as Emily cried for Dorothy Gale. He could see the cyclone cutting directly across the cornfield. Henry lowered the door just as his niece�s bike turned down the lane. She froze as the twister spun inches from her feet. In a last frantic cartoon pirouette Taz appeared. Dorothy smiled and said “Aaaboola baga laha rooAh” The Tasmanian Devil dropped both his hands to his groin. He blushed with the sudden realization he was indeed a naked twister.

GUY

Jeramy was embarrassed. He was sure everyone could see his huge erection. The nude assemblage of people trying to touch appropriate color circles was getting to him. The smell was intoxicating. It took all his will power to stop himself from trying to penetrate the closest body. The fact it belonged to a beautiful blond didn’t help much.
Suddenly, a blurry orange puffball ran out of the crowd and between the players. It managed to rub against all the naked bodies while avoiding them as they toppled over each other. �Nardo, you stupid cat�, came a voice from the crowd.

CALEB

It moved like a plague through the Forest Glen Assisted Living Community. Mrs. Johnson never recovered from her sprained vertebrae and died in surgery. Mr. Yakwezel broke his ulna and went into a coma. And Mr. Schwartz�s priapism was fatal. What was their secret? What brought these ancient baby boomers down in a way that Vietnam, Brown Acid, Disco, Reaganomics, TAB, and AIDS never could? I hid in a broom closet till after dark and heard the geriatric laughter turn to cries of agony! I threw open the door To Mrs. Fonzarelli�s Room and nearly vomited. It was� Naked Twister.

YXES

Red hand, blue foot, yellow elbow, purple butt? What does all this have to do with listening to old songs while doing a very unique form of exercising? A few more moves and match-ups like that, and I’ll be all tied up like a neat little pretzel, just waiting to be warmed up and eaten with gourmet mustard or cheese.
Oh, wonderful! Now the instructor is sharing with us HIS way of doing these routines with much greater ease and versatility. He assures us there is only one way to do this routine properly, and it’s called “Naked Twister”.

Z

She and I were always going to the movies.
I say going because we weren’t going to see them.
Why we bought popcorn and drinks, I’m not sure. They always ended up getting knocked over.
One time, we had the theater all to ourselves. Twister was the movie, I think.
She was just supposed to go down on me, but we ended up going at it on the stadium seats.
Hey, you can fold the arms up.
Our clothes got sticky from being on the floor.
We tried going back the next night to see the movie.
Two thumbs up.

Welcome to the eighty-fourth Weekly Challenge, 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 Guy David.
It’s Marriage
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which stories were the best from Weekly Challenge #84?
	John S from One Screen Stories
	Yxes from Podmafia
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club Oddcast
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Tom from Footnote
	Stuart from Podmafia
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

---

JOHN S

All day, Bob�’s only day off work this week, as he tried to read a new book or watch an afternoon movie or talk with his brother on the telephone, his upstairs neighbors argued. This was their usual argument–Why were you talking to that woman? Hey, you were talking to that man, so I can talk to that woman–the same weary characters and tired marriage plot played out a dozen times before on a dozen other days off gone wrong.
That night, as Bob tried to sleep, like a dozen times before, all he could hear was their bedsprings squeaking.

YXES

Marriage?? You want me to marry you?? Have you told me you loved me? Oh, you did. Well, did you tell me I was the one for you? Ahhh, I do remember that vaguely, yes. Ok! Have you even considered if I loved you enough to marry you? Well, I have told you every day! You do realize this marriage thing is not something I could take lightly. It’s a huge commitment, and there are so many things I have to consider. My home, my critters, my tupperware! Shut up, & kiss you, and say yes???? Well alright! Yes! dear!

CALEB BULLEN

The Dish ran away with The Spoon but after that it all went downhill.
Their Vegas wedding was cutlery rate then they blew their savings
betting on a bowl game. She went to work and nearly cracked under the
pressure. He fell in with a bad crowd and became a greasy spoon. The
Dish started seeing a rough customer till she was just his little
chippy. Now Spoon he’s in his cups every day stirring up trouble. And
everyone thought they were made for each other. Looking back on it, The
Dish probably should have married a nice stable placemat.

GUY DAVID

The bride wore red. The priest was a coconut tree, or at least, some alien something like a coconut tree. The bride was pretty. I was happy being. Seeing red again. My head was throbbing “Hit them, punch them, Moris”. My fists where clenched, blood oozing from my open wounds. I put salt on it.
The little elf like creatures sang to us, alien voices joined in prayer, then the roof was raised. See the stars. I was proudest. Marriage. Who would have thought.
“I do” I said.
“I do” she said”.
“You may eat your bride” said the tree.

TOM

Frankie and Johnny were lovers kids from the stockyards down south. He worked in the loop and she for the Trib. Weekends you’d find them at the Museum. They’d laugh in the coal mine sung in the U505. Frankie did a fair pantomime of a caryatid on the lawn. Johnny would mess with Foucault’s pendulum, turn the handles on gears, held Frankie tight in the giant heart. In the Whispering Galley in a voice soft and low Johnny proposed marriage to Frankie. They were wed on the cobblestones of Yesterday’s Main Street with a honey moon on the Pioneer Zephyr.

STUART

Marriage never really interested me much. All that awful “you promise to be with her for ever until you die”, I might as well go jump.
So imagine my surprise when I woke up one morning with a wedding ring on my finger in a desert.
Not wanting to be like Britney Spears, I decided to do what any man would do…
Shot the broad in the back of the head
Dug a trench
Dumped the bitch
Filled with Cement
Smoked a Cigar
The judge said I’ve been watching too much Goodfellas
Now I am stuck in this damn cell.

PLANET Z

You’ve heard it all before. The magic is gone from the marriage, right?
Instead of hiring a marriage counselor, why not hire a magician?
It’s magic, right?
I mean, it’s not like you’re going to talk out your problems when things have gotten so bad. And if a divorce is in the cards, well, the magician can easily make that card change into the one you’re thinking of.
Whatever the lawyers cut in half, the magician can make whole again! (Minus the attorney’s fees, mind you.)
And if all else fails, he can always turn your spouse into a frog.

Welcome to the eighty-third Weekly Challenge, 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.
It’s Mexican Food
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #83?
	Guy David of Guy David
	JD White
	Elisson from blog d’Elisson
	Tom from Footnote
	Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
	Daphne of Going Broke
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Chris from Chris Carlisle.net
	Yxes from Podmafia
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

---

GUY DAVID

It was our first date. I was just a stray cat she collected out of the street and took home to feed, and boy was I hungry. Pretty soon, the sound of something rousting on a frying pan came out of the kitchen, coupled with some delicious smells. Expectation was building up. Soon, she came back, bearing the gift of food. It had some rousted tomatoes, sausages and some other things I couldn’t immediately recognize. “What is it?” I asked. “Oh, it just some Mexican food” she answered. I ended up marrying her. I was always a sucker for innovation.

JD WHITE

What can be said for those folks south of the border.
They are just not civilized.
Not even close to being “like us”.
We always are kind to strangers and we always dress in appropriate ways.
Our homes are immaculate inside and out.
We keep our city streets clean.
We never dump trash on the roadside.
Our form of government is far superior to theirs.
With far less corruption in our public officials.
The one good thing I have found is that when traveling from Ottawa to see my Doctor in Michigan.
They have the best Mexican Food in Detroit.

ELISSON

Salvador Dali, the renowned surrealist painter, is thought by most
people to have been Catalonian.
Not true. He was born in Taxco de Alarcón, Guerrero state, Mexico, in
May of 1904. Mexican to the core. It’s a well-kept secret.
The inspiration for many of his surrealistic works was the local
cuisine. His most famous painting, The Persistence of Memory,
was inspired by a meal, the digestion of which caused hallucinations
that lasted three days. Freud and Einstein had nothing to do with it.
Most people look at that painting and see melted watches. But Dali
always saw tortillas. No: Distortillas.

TOM

Rice cakes Rice cakes No beef today. I’m on this 1000 caloric demonic diet. I dream of dancing slabs of cow I dream of singing wells of grave. But in the day it’s mostly greens to dine and if by chance a stray morsel I might indulge and its taste might ever be so good my mantra is spit it out. Its day 49 and I can take it no more. It midnight outside El CharO’s Original All You Can Eat. I got a brick and the glass its gone. Its Mexican Food Tonight. Double Fried Burrito here I come

HOUSTON KEYS

“Hello welcome to Tacorama! Would you like to try our double quesadilla?”
It’s pronounced quesadilla!
Whatever! Would you like one?
What do you mean whatever? You should have some pride in your job!
What kind of slacker wants to work in a culturally specific restaurant
and refuses to immerse themselves in the culture? How can you expect
discerning palettes to partake with a greeting like that?
Look Buddy. I make six bucks an hour, what do you expect.
Fine, If you are that insensitive I shall take my culinary business to
another establishment.
Knock yourself out Bro.

DAPHNE

It’s that time of year when families gather for meals and to give
thanks for their blessings over the past year. This year my family
will be no different. We will gather around the table and each take
turns giving our thanks. Some thank for their health, some thank that
we are all there, some thank for getting a bike for their birthday.
Ok that’s just my nephew, but he’s thankful at least. Me, I will be
thankful for the meal. You see I get to cook dinner this year and
they let me do whatever was easiest for me. So I called my favorite
restaurant and got take out. I’m thankful for Mexican Food Take Out.

CALEB

Pastor Al’s tacos al pastor were all the rage in Tenochticlan in the days before she became Mexico City. People would come from miles around drawn by the aroma of the cooking meat and fresh tortillas. Spaniards, Mestizos, even the occasional missionary came. The only problem was beloved as his tacos were, his Presbyterian rhetoric was not. Eventually Don Fernando a local Catholic cook snuck into the pastor’s adobe hacienda and when he found the secret recipe, he killed the heretic and began preparing the meat. Al pastor tacos made by Pastor Al were delicious; made with Pastor Al, Heavenly.

CHRIS

Let me tell you about a woman I know,
She ain’t no model or runway queen,
You won’t find her on Cosmo or Glamour,
Or in the pages of Vogue magazine
She wears a hairnet and plastic gloves,
She scoops the beans and rice all day,
She makes minimum wage (under the table)
Workin’ for the Chipotle
She can’t speak a word of English
She calls the beans frijoles,
But you know what? That’s just fine by me,
I still love her anyways.
She’s my Burrito Lady
And she’s driving me crazy
Burrito Lady,
Make my burrito for me yeah.

YXES

She was smiling as she got ready to go out for a Mexican food dinner with her sweetheart. She was remembering their first date, and how he had wanted to show her something she had never seen before. He ordered her a taco, and said, “Go ahead, eat it.” She picked it up, holding it like a sandwich. Immediately, the whole taco fell right into her lap! She was speechless, and a mess, all covered in “taco stuff”! His kind look of suppressed laughter is what made her fall in love with him, and with tacos! Hot sauce and all!!

Z

We used to go to this Mexican place next to a veterinarian, and we called it The Cat And Dog Hospital.
The Mexican place, not the vet’s office.
We’d go there every day, and you could hear the barking through the wall of the dining room.
Strange thing was, as the week went on, the barking got less and less, until there was one or two dogs left on Friday.
Then, you’d place your order, and…
It got quiet all of the sudden.
I started ordering salads there, but I noticed something really strange about the plants in the landscaping…

Welcome to the eighty-second Weekly Challenge, 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 Michael.
It’s Fear Of Flying
Whew.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #82?
	Paul
	Linda
	Tom from Footnote
	Laieanna from Hodgepodge Point
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Daphne of Going Broke
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

---

PAUL

Hello, my name’s Bob and I have a problem
[Hi Bob!]
I have this fear of flying.
[What the heck? What did he say? What’s the deal? ]
Which! … Which is why I drink.
[Oh! Okay! He’s one of us, after all. Okay Bob!]
I’m a Consultant. I live on the west coast and work on the East! I have to fly!
But I can’t fly without drinking! One after the other! Calling the attendant for more and more!
[Yep! Been there! Don’t have to fear flying for that! Hard to walk to baggage!]
Then I can’t sleep after drinking all that coke!
[Coke! He’s no Alcoholic! Throw out the Bum!]

LINDA

Frank was stuffed into the Toyota. At Seventy-five MPH it sound- ed
like a beehive. The toll traffic was unbearable. Work sucked.
Suddenly a seagull swooped down in front of his windshield.
Man, he was staying ahead of the car! The bird’s feet were just
touching the windshield!
Frank pulled himself up rooting! This was Frank’s whole problem! A
fear of flying, of braking away and striking out. He could do it!
Screw this commute, this job! You Go Bird!!
Boom! An explosion of feathers. Two stuck to Frank’s windshield. The
bird veered into a truck. 7:59. Late. Work sucked

TOM

He was shaking like a leaf. The stewardess noted the white knuckler in C35 motioned to the head fight attendant. Tom’s new job had him flying regulars to LA for 30 and 60 second spots. It wouldn’t have matter if he taken a train car or rickshaw the devastating motion sickness would have gotten him. It was the curse of his Kingdom and that first ancestor Herb. “Why had that fraking Gnome got himself fired?” he thought. Tom Tomato Plant lost it when the head steward offered him a Snap Toms. Lucky the stewardess had a vegetable barf bag ready.

LAIEANNA

Jimmy purchased a parachute and modified it with a smaller harness
attached to the front for his daughter. He then spent hours
practicing the whole scenario of picking her up, strapping her in,
jumping free of danger and debris, and pulling the cord.
On the big day, Jimmy strapped a helmet on both their heads and held
his daughter’s hand while waiting in line. He was terrified; she was
excited. When their turn came up to board, he made the sign of the
cross and hoisted his daughter into the Carnival’s Miniature airplane
kiddy ride and climbed in behind her.

GUY

The world of open source change is coming
Have no fear of flying
Fragments of human imagination
Caught in a twilight zone of virtual innovation
It’s the golden age of creation
Sweeping through the Second Life nation
Shaking furiously with anticipation
As I crush out of this world of expectation
There’s no denying there is some sort of a revolution here
But the wheels of steel are moving to slow for the kill
The age of open code and sharing is coming
There is no denying that
In a whirlpool of sweet creative melody
Comes the age of enhanced communication

DAPHNE

Standing at the edge of the nest, Stanley looked back at his mother.
She nudged him gently toward the sky. He opened his wings, felt the
wind rush past them, he looked to the horizon, he envisioned himself
soaring with the other eaglets, but he couldn’t move. He was an
eaglet with a fear of flying. He knew he had to conquer this fear or
become food for the beasts that dwell on the ground. So he unhooked
his talons and jumped from the nest…and then… nothing… Stanley woke up
and realized You can’t soar with the Eagles when you are a Turkey.

CALEB

when they came together, zippers fell away like rose petals, underwear
blew off in one sweet breath like dandelion fluff. Her mind was a whirl,
was this the mythical a plus zipless f**k or was it just the Maui Wowee
this guy had brought with him on the Braniff flight from Amsterdam.
Either way, her mother always told her to ‘eschew the ordinary’ and this
Randolph Mantooth look alike was anything but ordinary. She eschewed him
out the door before her husband got home, then Erica Jong fired up her
fancy new bong and began writing the fear of flying.

Z

Sometimes, you’re such a fuckup, you need divine intervention to keep you from being too much of a problem to others.
So many people out there in the world, stands to reason there’s a backlog of cases.
Standards for guardian angels have dropped significantly since Biblical times.
For instance, my guardian angel is afraid of flying.
“How can you be afraid of flying?” I ask her. “Don’t you have wings?”
“I don’t you sticking your tongue in light sockets,” she said. “You have a tongue, right?”
Okay, so maybe she said something other than “tongue” but you get the point.

Welcome to the eighty-first Weekly Challenge, 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 Mike
It’s pumpkin, ghost, squirrels, blue smoke, the Gates of Hell, lime, time, rhyme, and orgasms
Whew.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

What were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #81?
	Guy David of Guy David
	Tom from Footnote Podcast
	Justin from Justin’s Thoughts
	Terrence from Never Was
	Daphne from Going Broke
	Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

---

GUY DAVID

I was standing at the gates of hell. I was a ghost. There was no doubt about it.
They say that hell is what you make it. For me it was a couple of squirrels, rousting some pumpkins with lime. It was an orgy of naked bodies, endlessly entering each other, in and out, in and out, but without being able to reach orgasms. It was devoid of sensation, maliciously suspended in time and space. We could go about it until blue smoke came out of our asses, but nothing would happen. It just wouldn’t rhyme. A six way tie.

TOM

When Pumpkins dream it’s a fiery sight. Flaming Limes held in check by a ghostly light.
Citrus and Squash hurling with all their might
Against the Gates of Hell lintels red posts white
The dances of Pumpkins and capers of Limes take flight
In dream time and ghost time in the blue smoke of night
With reason and rhyme we mark their gathering blight
For it is pies we will be baking and ghostlings they will bite
Its pumpkin time before the ghostly gates of key lime hell
So ends this squirrelly rhyme
So begins a midnight of sugary orgasmic delight

JUSTIN

As Joe walked through the gates of hell, he watched a lime-colored pumpkin release a puff of blue smoke.
“What’s that for?” he asked the ghostly squirrel guarding the gate.
“Means it’s time for Satan to get his rocks off,” said the squirrel. “If you see it, you have to report to Satan’s castle and give him an orgasm.”
“Oh, f***,” said Joe. “Can I get around it?”
“There’s a rumor that if you can tell him a really good rhyme he’ll let you off,” replied the squirrel.
“A sublime rhyme?” asked Joe.
“Try that one,” said the squirrel.

TERRENCE

Raoul stood at the Gates of Hell waiting for the kids. A pumpkin sat to his right the candle flickering in the wind. Raoul was always the one that got stuck handing out the candy. A Podcaster dressed as a nun approached. The Podcaster spoke and Raoul dropped in the lime; and under his breath he said “give it time.”
The Podcaster dropped to the ground, started to scream and moan. This continued for a moment and then there was a puff of blue smoke and the Podcaster smiled. A squirrel appeared from under his habit and whipped its face.

DAPHNE

Every year one house had the best decorations on Halloween. Most houses had simple pumpkins carved with Faces, Witches, Bats and the occasionally squirrels eating nuts. But this house had more. As you go up the walk up to it, there was a fork in the path. To the left you saw blue smoke, ghosts and flashing lime green light, you heard screams of horror, that sounded more like orgasms (or so I’ve been told) and there was a sign with that old rhyme “If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime” and a gate with flames made out of fabric around it and on it said “The Gates of Hell” and there were 2 mean dogs barking at you. On the right side was Father O’Malley standing at a gate that said “The Gate to Heaven” handing out full size candy bars and Bibles. We might not get the message at church but we got it on Halloween. Heaven has chocolate.

LAIEANNA

Six way tie, it was. They encircled their tormentor, shooting him
till he fell dead. Inevitably, they all went down in the crossfire.
The whole squirrelly gang ended up stuck behind the gates of hell.
They squabbled about who really did the bastard in. There was Rhyming
Ellison and On Time Tom with Mysterious Blue Smoke Guy and Martini
with a Lime Twist Caleb. Even Pumpkin Rolling Houston and Oh The
Orgasms Laieanna were in on the fight. There was nothing better to do
while they waited for Ghostly Laurence to take his eternal revenge
with assigning another torturous challenge.

CALEB

The squirrel’s ghost was biding it’s time smoking a cuban cigar in the old hallowed out pumpkin while watching the teenagers boinking at lookout point. Suddenly a leg kicked out as the kids reached their orgasms they sent the squirrel’s ghost tumbling in a pumpkiny blaze down the hill.Then in a puff of blue smoke the ghost of the squirrel found himself at the gates of hell where a podcaster, Burroughs and St. Peter were drinking Lime Rickeys trying to think of words that rhyme with ‘merkin’. The ghost of the squirrel suddenly realized… he was in the wrong story.

PLANET Z has chosen to pass this week, and a Wacky Adventure of Abraham Lincoln will be recorded to fulfill the “Story a day until the day I die” pledge.

Welcome to the eightieth Weekly Challenge, 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 Chris Doelle.
It’s Garage Sales
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Who had the best stories of Weekly Challenge #80?
	Michael from The Next Big Writer
	Tom from Footnote Podcast
	Laieanna of HodgePodge Point
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

---

MICHAEL

Shamus finally struck it rich. Allergic to any form of work, his past schemes and cons netted him but paltry earnings. Now, not only was he raking in money, he was contributing to a better world environment by recycling.
The magic word was “Garage sale.” It attracted bargain hunters with ready cash.
His success was that you bid on the total contents of his overstuffed garage. Old lamps, appliances, boxes and bags. Winner takes all.
Today, $1240, walked away with the lot.
Not as good as last week’s haul, but not bad for one little trip to the local dump.

TOM

The podcaster was getting pretty bored with this Dante crap.
So he pushed the bark away from the shore.
“75 cent for the next 5 minutes” intoned the voice.
The podcaster looked down to see a Halliburton change box.
“Frak this”
just as he was about to give the box a good kick
two near celestial being where deposited into the bark.
“Time to get out of Dodge” spit Burroughs
“Damn straight” say St Peter.
“Where we going” asked The Podcaster.
“In search of Garage Sales” chanted the boatmen.
“What?” cried Laurence.
“Hell it’s just the topic this week kid”

LAIEANNA

“New beginnings start with the shedding of our past. Garage Sale 10-4”
stated Libby’s sign. Two sisters of the order were helping,
identifiable by bald heads and potato sack clothes. New pupils of the
Enlightenment and Ascension Order, or as her ex-husband would say, the
short a few vowels cult, had to rid themselves of everything. For the
purpose they gave her, she gladly let go of hair and clothes. And now
she felt no loss for her belongings until the sale of a picture frame
with her children smiling inside reminded her of what she was truly
giving up.

GUY DAVID

Come on over, they are having a garage sale down here, every soul for a shekel. They have big souls and small souls, blue souls and red souls, fluffy souls and thorny souls.
I want a lollipop soul on a stick, one with extra sugar. Those are priceless and sexy.
You should check the couch potato souls. They are fat and comfy, and they wont protest either, so transfixed by images from the babble box that they hardly notice reality anymore.
There is a tortured soul. Look at it. It’s useless. Nothing to do with it now. What a waste.

PLANET Z

Excalibur, the Holy Grail, the Ark of The Covenant, – you name it, I’ve picked it up from some family trying to clear out an attic of a house they want to sell.
You see, people just sell their junk and baby stuff at Garage Sales.
Estate Sales, on the other hand, the person who valued the stuff is dead, knew it’s true nature, so it’s a relative trying to get rid of it for some quick cash.
They never know the value of what they’ve got. If they did, they’d be selling it at an auction house or keeping it.

Welcome to the seventy-ninth Weekly Challenge, 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 Tom.
It’s Barbecue
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

Which stories were the best from Weekly Challenge #79
	Paul
	Tom from Footnote Podcast
	Guy David of The Sixteenth
	Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
	Laieanna from HodgePodge Point
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!

---

PAUL

The sound of the word makes my mouth water.
Smokey, greasy ribs, with the crusty burnt edges, brisket what falls apart when you look at it.
Spicy sausages so good they’re obscene.
A chunk of cheese.
Tearful slices of onion.
Wedges of pickles.
And Styrofoam bowls of BBQ beans, all washed down with a ice cold beer.
Sure, I know people what prefer BBQ Chicken.
I know a gal what orders BBQ Turkey.
But me? I am a purest.
I only eat the real stuff, slabs of meat smoked for hours, what drips in fat.
Except on Saturday. On Saturday, I’m vegetarian.

TOM

St Peter fired up the Weber outside the gates
Tennessee hickory gently glowing
pulled pork sizzled
bathed in Carolina ruby sauce.
“Nice barbecue” said Burroughs.
“What happened?” inquired Peter.
“A loaded banana” returned Burroughs.
As the hickory crackled a
melody rolled across the clouds.
“Rossini,” mused Peter.
“The Lone Ranger,” intoned Bill.
They both spun around yelling
“WILLIAM TELL!”
“Hi boys don’t forget to cook that slowly,” said
Joan Vollemer a Smith and Wesson pointed at Burroughs.
Her aim was no better than Bill’s
St Peter fell face first into the Weber.
“Hey Joan …” BLAM
Bill toppled over Peter.

HOUSTON KEYS

The things that had once been Frank and Jim waited. Even as zombies
they faced the question of, “What’s for dinner?”
A yuppie ran past. Frank looked at Jim. Jim tried to say white meat
was too dry, but all that came out was a garbled snarl.
A Chinese guy ran past but Frank didn’t bother, they would be hungry
again in an hour.
The Italian guy running past caused Jim to perk up but Frank hit him
on the arm. Italian food gave him gas.
Suddenly, Laurence Simon ran by. Frank and Jim looked at each other…
“Mazel Tov!”

LAIEANNA

“Dear chef,” said Ivan to the giant, “stew is very appetizing, but with a right blend of ingredients, a barbecue would make you eat like the king. I happen to have a mix in my bag. Let me lather myself in it’s delight. If I’m to be eaten, I wish to be eaten right.”
Compliant, the giant lifted Ivan, who went straight to work stripping and rubbing till he was bright red and slick. Grabbing and slipping, the giant gathered nothing but the tasty sauce. With sticky fingers, he couldn’t resist sitting and licking them while Immortal Ivan got away.

PLANET Z
“Come and get it!!”
“Dad?”
“Yes, son?”
“Why do we grill with mesquite?”
“Son, it’s something that goes back… way back to the days of the Bible.”
“Wow.”
“In fact, that burning bush that spoke to Moses… it was a mesquite bush.”
“Really?”
“After Moses got done talking to it and getting the ten commandments, the Bush was still burning, so Moses leaned those stone tablets together, gathered up some branches, made a smokeshack out of ’em, and made himself some mesquite camel jerky.”
“Dad?”
“Yes, son?”
“You’re so full of shit.”

Welcome to the seventy-eighth Weekly Challenge, 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 Elisson.
It’s Underpants
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

Who had the best stories in Weekly Challenge #78?
	Tom of Footnote
	Chris Doelle of Riding With The Window Down
	Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
	Elisson from blog d’Elisson
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Paul Snoe NANOWRIMO
	Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
	Yxes of Podmafia
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!

---

TOM

The Podcaster returned to the Styx. Burroughs’ back was to the Podcaster he was humming Going to Dance My Way to Heaven with a New Step Everyday.
“Bill,” whispered the Podcaster. Burroughs spun around he was wearing underpants on his head. “Still got that Apple, Kid?” croaked Burroughs. “No, I got this Banana and I’m not afraid to use it!” sneered the Podcaster pointing his herbal weapon at the literary outlaw.
BLAM went the Banana Burroughs fell over deader. He vanished off to dem pearly gates. The Podcaster aptly peeled the Banana and had a bit of his naked lunch.

CHRIS DOELLE

Johnny walked uncomfortably to the front of the classroom, sort of twisting his midsection with each step. His teacher had called him to read his report to the class. Of all the kids in all the classroom, why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be now? Johnny’s heart pounded. The pain was unbearable. His palms broke into a sweat as heavy as the torrent running down his brow. The teacher shushed his classmates as they tittered at his discomfort. It turns out sneaking an iPod into school in his underpants was a pretty bad idea.

GUY

We used to make edible clothing. I don’t know what went wrong. We had strawberry t-shirts, pineapple shoes and chocolate hats. They went off in the millions, no in the billions. Everyone wanted some. A real shopping rush. Then we came out with something brilliant, a line of tofu pants. Everyone wanted them. At least, so they keep telling me at marketing.
I think it’s the tofu underpants. That’s what killed it, you see, in Israel, underpants are considered legitimate pants. Imagine that: a big, fat, hairy guy, going around with nothing but tofu underpants, in the boiling sun.

HOUSTON

Johnny was uncomfortable as his recent change to thongs had some less than desirable effects.
“This dang butt floss is gonna to be the death of me,” he intoned, but fortunately Johnny had a level head he wasn’t about to panic. He would drive the ladies wild with the smooth view of his gluteus through his Wranglers.
Spying his first conquest Johnny bellied up to the bar (literally).
“Hey there little lady, how about you and me make some beautiful music together.”
With a wry smile she looked him up then down, then up again. “Did you bring your banjo?”

ELISSON

There’s nothing makes me want to dance
Like a brand new pair of Underpants.
The blue-haired ladies look askance
When I show off my Underpants.
They’re free of bees and flies and ants.
They’re insect-free, my Underpants.
I’m hypnotized: I’m in a trance.
Those mesmerizing Underpants!
Averse to risk? Why take a chance?
I wear my Safety Underpants.
Their silken fabric draws one’s glance.
Gaze, gaze upon my Underpants.
Like armored Knight with Battle-Lance,
I’m protected in my Underpants.
I dine on animals and plants,
Take meals in my Underpants.
Residing in my lordly manse.
I wear my lordly Underpants.

PAUL

I hated school. The jocks and the pops all kicked me around.
Yeah, I made grades. I’d have a job while they’ed be mechanics and cashiers.
Worthless if my future couldn’t get me a date.
Then the bionic-nuclear-genetic-engineered-automated-techno spider bit me.
I could toss cars! Stop crooks with a finger. Leap over buildings!
But strike fear into crime? No good.
Hooked up with mega-bust gals and mondo-Chin guys.
Nope. No traction. Still no fame, no glory, no… respect.
They told me what to do and I kept refusing.
Then one day I put on my suit.
Then last.
The underpants.

LAIEANNA

I apologize for not contributing to last week’s challenge. Though an
idea came to me, I lost track of time or lost track of my mind and
didn’t finish before the deadline. This week’s challenge should be
easy, but my imagination has been stuck on dull. I was working on a
story at work, but forgot to take it home on Friday. For new
inspiration, I took a jog around the neighborhood in my underpants.
I’ve since been arrested and no one will take my call. Please send
money. Spring me out.

YXES

Ohmygod! You can’t be serious! You want me to say this word out loud, for everyone to hear? Don’t you realize how embarrassed I will be if you make me do this???? I mean, I can say lots of things, but to say this word is like recounting something out one of my worst nightmares! I would much rather say bloomers, knickers, pantaloons, or even panties. I could even manage to say boxers or briefs! I simply won’t say it! You will just have to get some other poor sap to say Underpants! Ohmygod! I said it! Now I’m mortified!

PLANET Z

Ann Coulter wants to make me perfect.
Right-wing temptress, you’re not going to win this one.
She tries and tries, but I resist.
So, last night, she shows up on my doorstep, wearing nothing but a crucifix and that big crocodile-wide smile of hers.
“The things I can do with this, you wouldn’t believe,” she says.
And she wheels through the photos on her iPod, each image sicker than the last.
She stops.
It’s Al Franken, with his underwear on his head, totally blissed out.
Then I realize: he’s still Jewish.
If he can resist, so can I.

Welcome to the seventy-seventh Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Planet Z .
It’s Tangent
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #77?
	Elisson of blog d’Elisson
	Guy David from Sixteenth
	Tom from Footnote
	Paul
	Mike from Mike Thinks
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	The Mad Bard From Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!

---

ELISSON

Marvin was notorious for his short attention span, but the sun-bronzed toff in front of him at the checkout had firmly captured his interest. And not in a good way.
The George Hamilton lookalike had crammed himself into the express lane with well more than the mandated “Ten Items or Less.” And Marvin, Cashier-of-the-Month, was steamed.
For once, instead of suffering in silence, he let Mr. Hawaiian Tropic have it.
His invective-filled tirade went on for ten minutes, causing its target to slink away shame-faced, ashen.
Years later, the bag-boys reminisced: “Remember when Marvin went off on that tan gent?”

GUY

I would give anything to hear the sound of a tangent, stroking a string. My cell is dark. Light doesn’t like the company of the likes of me. I used to be a prodigy, a master of the clavichord. Now I’m just a shadow, locked in a cell.
They called her Baby Faced Angel. It happened during one of my blackouts. I don’t remember a thing. They say they found one of her hands down the alley, still clutching the string of my old guitar, same guitar I’m loosening the string of right now.
See you on the other side.

TOM

The Podcaster found himself walking in the clouds. He was still clutching a deep fried burrito. The last thing he remembered was the Houston bus, now he was stand next to the pearly gates. “I think there’s a mistake here?” said the Podcaster. Saint Peter looked up and said ” Your right. You are suppose to be at the river Styx with William Burroughs.” He grabbed the burrito and handed him an apple. On arriving in Shell Burroughs yelled “William Tell” and shot the Podcaster. Reappearing in Heaven Saint Peter shook his head muttering “Damn Tangent” handed him a banana.

PAUL

1. I notice a line touching a circle. What’s the word?
2. I work with words day after day….
3. Sometimes I hate work.
4. Well, I don’t really hate anything or anyone.
5. Hate’s easy, but it takes strength of character to forgive.
6. I used to design characters and fonts for some of the first digital printers.
7. Though you have to wonder if everything in life isn’t really digital
when it boils down to it.
8. Boiling ideas down helps me concentrate on the concepts.
9. And when I concentrate hard enough, I can see my progression of thought.
Nine thoughts.
Nine…. Tangents! That’s the word!

MIKE

Theres just something incredibly annoying
about those individuals who find
themselves monologuing, completely oblivious
to distracting tangents. Unwilling even
unable to maintain their focus.
When referring to focus of course
you think of photographs. Here
however, pictures of grandma, no
matter how sentimental, have no
bearing. And yes, we love
grandma, but her house smells
funny. don’t expect to laugh
though. This isn’t Carrottop funny,
this is who ate a dusty
burrito funny. Thats rank!
So lets rank staying on
subject a little higher, and
try to stop obfuscating issues,
instead using trenchant verbiage that
keeps tangents to a minimum.

CALEB

The tan gent’s tangents about the Plantagenets
Were the height of irrelevance on the subject of elephants
But once back on track we knew he was whack
When he told us that elephants sleep on their backs
With their tails in the air and nary a care
Cause they fear the night’s air on their large derrieres
He said the morn’s dew makes the elephants poo
And that thrice in this poo he had lost his left shoe
But I don’t think that poos could have made him lose shoes
It must have been booze
Man this lecture’s a snooze!

MAD BARD Z

My little Laplace Lolita… you can count on Susie Rickenbacker to always get off on a tangent.
No. Really. She has a thing for trigonometry.
Her eyes roll back. Her hand slowly goes under her desk.
When the bell rings, she gets up, smooths her skirt, gathers up her notes, and walks out that door with a little wobble to her step.
She sits on her sweater, so the seat’s never left damp.
She’s going to be a senior this year.
AP Physics. AP Calculus.
May need a little extra tutoring, her advisor says.
Tutoring. That’s what we’ll call it.

This is an updated version of the Weekly Challenge that includes Elisson and Tom, which were borked by gmail.com issues. My apologies to everyone who’s voted so far… the polls have been reset.
Welcome to the seventy-six Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Caleb Bullen of the Black Tie Martini Club.
And it’s Ramadan.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

What were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #77?
	The Mad Bard of Planet Z
	Gomem DeSoto from The Gomem Show
	Paul
	Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
	Tom from Footnote
	Elisson from blog d’Elisson
Free polls from Pollhost.com

WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!

---

MAD BARD Z

When Ramadan rolls around, my coworker Mohammed fasts during the day.
As the month drags on, he gets more and more irritated and angry.
I asked him why he puts himself through this. What is this all for?
He said that by denying the body nourishment, fasting is supposed to help focus the mind and the soul on spiritual needs.
“Oh,” I said. “I hope it’s working, because from my perspective, it just makes you cranky.”
Then he said “Aren’t you Jewish? Don’t you fast for your holy days?”
I thought for a moment. “Um… I’m supposed to fast? Oops.”

GOMEM

Ramadan, I dread ramadan, my car is always getting blocked in by
hoards of friggin’ taxis, as we have an office next the main city
mosque. I shout out “will you please move them friggin taxis”, all I
hear is “Allahu Akbar” in return. No I dont need a bloody taxi ride,
all I want is just to get my car out.

PAUL

In 2030 we program people. – memory inserts. Put knowledge, memories, the habits of greats onto a chip, and insert.
Normal becomes genius.
And better, people actually add knowledge, experience … great, ever towering brains built on silicon platforms.
What to do about Kreach Don?
Trained in Iraq, the old fashioned way.
Turned Serial killer — kids, mothers, girls, businessmen… even florists!
We don’t kill.. torture
What to do, what to do?
We build a special chip, a Read Only Chip. Fill it with all kinds of memories, very unpleasant, very punishing. Never changing, always fresh.
Then we ROM a Don.

HOUSTON KEYS

Muhammad Smith was famished. The fasting of Ramadan was a rough time for him.
He came across his buddies Muhammad Jones and Muhammad Lee. “Salaam Alekum Muhammad and Muhammad.”
“Alekum Salaam, Muhammad,” came the reply.
“Guys, I don’t know about you, but I am dying here, I would KILL for a pancake!”
“Hey Muhammad!” All three of them turned to see the newcomer, “Muhammad Muhammad al Muhammad racing across the street to meet them.
“Oh crap!” Muhammad said, “It’s Muhammad again.”
“I don’t know what is up with that guy,” was Muhammad’s reply. “He tries too hard, what an overachiever!”

GUY DAVID

– We learned about Red Man month today.
– The Red Man month?
– Well, Tati says that when the Red Men month comes, you can’t eat for the whole month and you pray to that man in pajamas that he let you eat, then he gives you an explosive belt and you can win 72 virgin, I don’t know what those are but I think they are also explosives and it’s fun, fun, fun.
– I think I’ll have a talk with Mrs. Tati. I don’t think she should be teaching you this staff.
– Daddy, can I have an explosive belt for Christmas?

CALEB

Ramadan Dan
He’s the Ramadan Man
He brings the joy of Ramadan
Wherever he can
He brings toys
To all the little boys
To the girls he’s mean
Because they’re unclean
He’s Ramadan Dan
The Ramadan Man
He brings the joy of Ramadan
Wherever he can
He knows you’re hungry
And you’re cranky
He’ll take pictures of your wife
And over them he’ll spank he’s
Ramadan Dan
The Ramadan Man
He brings the joy of Ramadan
Wherever he can
While you’re starving
Just for Allah
Won’t you give this
Man a Dollar?
Ramadan Dan
The Ramadan Man
“That’s not Funny!”

LAIEANNA

Fasting with purpose was Stan’s idea of impressing the health club
ladies. Most did it for health. He would have a religious
experience. After half-ass research into different belief systems,
Ramadan was picked because the month was coming up and no one he knew
was doing it. It still allowed eating at night, and he could
enlighten women to his cause during long hours at the gym. It was
decided till Bill informed him that intercourse from sunrise to
sundown (Stan’s peak action hours) was prohibited. He changed to
Buddhism. After all, the gym was only good for one thing.

TOM

Nurse Philps keep a watchful eye on Dr Actma. The intern was a double threat to Nurse Betty’s patients. The first concern was Doctor Ali’s 16 hours shifts. The second and more pressing was it was Ramadan. Nurse Philps trailed behind Dr. Actma as he made his rounds take note of any notation on a patient’s chart. If correction was needed she gently suggested it. As Ali moved across the floor he hear Betty laughing. “What now?” asked Ali. “Mrs. James is not scheduled for a prostate exam and most assuredly Mr. Juliet isn’t in need of a hysterectomy today.”

ELISSON

He stood on a promontory overlooking the Ross Ice Shelf, surveying the desolate ruins. His tears froze on contact with the cold air. Antarctic summer was very different from summer in the desert where he had grown up. An involuntary shiver seized him.
The training camp had been set up in a remote location so as to avoid the omnipresent Allied sweeps. It had worked – for a while. Who would think to seek al Qaeda here, of all places?
Ramadan had been their undoing.
A month-long daylight-hours fast was tough in the land of Midnight Sun. Only Ibrahim remained.