Fizzy

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I never understood why people like those fizzy poprocks candies so much.
Then, someone watched how I was pouring the packet into my mouth and swallowing it.
“Put a little bit on your tongue,” she said.
“And?” I asked.
“Just let it sit there for a bit.”
So, I did, and that’s when I experienced the fizzling and popping flavors for the first time.
“When do they stop?” I asked.
But I couldn’t hear her answer. The popping had grown to a deafening, rumbling roar.
My tongue was numb, and blood started to run from the corners of my mouth.

Weekly Challenge #214 – Rebirth

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

Which were the best stories this week?
Steven the Nuclear Man
Zachmann
Guy David
Jeffrey
TJ
Terry
Justin
Norval Joe
Anima
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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


Steven

The water closes over my head.
As always, it is shockingly cold, flooding through the thin white
robes. The minister – or is he a preacher? Pastor? – almost lets go.
It’s symbolism, I think. Or maybe his hands are cold.
I am at the bottom of the pool. Please, I think, please stay down this time.
His hands pull me up, up, and I breach the water. The congregation
claps. I clear the water from my eyes.
“Didn’t take, Padre,” I say, and snap his neck.
As I slaughter the sheep – his “flock” – I wonder if I should try
Buddhism next.

Zackmann

Life feels so new to me now. I am just like I was at twenty, only not thinking with my hydraulic compass that got me into so much trouble, No longer sick, I bet I can run a mile in under twelve minutes, I have all my memories or a least as well as I remembered before.
Now waiting for the judge to tell us if it is legal for old me to kill himself or does he have to wait on the terminal cancer. I did not think things would be easy after transferring my mind into my clone.

Guy David

As the city has fallen, so it was rebuilt. The war was a bloody one and there was no winner. What remained of the two armies became one. They all worked together, choosing the island and building up the power around it. The island ascended above the ocean and the greatest, biggest city was built above it, complete with motion generators, a protective dome and weather controllers. That was how two proud nations ceased to be, and a whole new nation was born, vowing never to repeat the mistakes of the past. A generation change later, they forgot their vows.

Jeffrey Hite

“General we need to talk about this process. Its not going as smoothly as you’ve been told.”
The lights hurt his eyes and they buzzed making his head hurt. Who was this little man that was pestering him? He still felt weak. Did the process fail?
“General, can you hear me?” He nodded. “We don’t have much time General, we need to.” the little man uttered a choked cry. He marveled at the thing around the little man’s neck it used to be his hand before the process, weakness and frailty had been replaced by raw power, he was reborn.

TJ

The Lynyrd Skynyrd 2.0 concert was an experience to say the least.
Autotune covers of Southern rock classics in synthelectronica from guys
in what could best be described as flannel hazmat suits who were
fiddling with knobs and wires as much as playing instruments. Who came
to see these shows? Teens swathed in black who could only guess how
irritating the original band and its fans would find them, waving
cellphones to Robot Van Zant singing “Gimme Three Steps.” But what
shoved the whole concert from ironical to meta was the kid in the front
row hollerin’ “Rebirth!” “Rebirth!” “Rebiiiiiiirth!”

Terrence

I cannot take it any more. How could the podcaster continue on with story after agonizing story for five years? It is a drastic move, but it is the only one I have left. My only hope is that in the next life he will be done. The blood drips down my arms and the world goes black.
I open my eyes and I feel a large hand rubbing my back. I feel warm and happy wrapped in my fur. I purr as the man lifts me up onto his lap. I look up in horror, as the music starts.

Justin

The alien ship arrived, overriding every communication signal Earth had. Despite having cosmic technology, they only managed an audio transmission. It came out as a host of clicks, hums, buzzes and groaning. In exactly two days, sixteen hours, nineteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds later, the ship roasted Arizona with an energy blast. Seventeen minutes later linguists translated the message to find out they wanted 93 tons of Famous Amos cookies, or they’d destroy Kentucky. After the attack, a transmission was made that forty-three hours later was translated as “Oops, wrong state.” Phoenix, however, quickly rose from the ashes to rebuild.

Norval Joe

Billions of years ago, it was a fast burning ball of Hydrogen and Helium. A billions years later it was a super nova that scattered bits of it’s self across the galaxy. He was joined by his brother and sister stars. All born at the same time, in the star forming regions of the early universe. All lived short explosive lives, and mixed their shattered elements with his. Gravity and the conservation of angular motion worked together to take the swirling expanse of gas and dust and condense it into a new star and a single gas giant. Planet Z.

Anima

(stage note: half crazed slowly awakened vox)
The chemicals filter in and ever so slowly I become aware. Who shall I be when I get to Alpha Centuri? None know me here: no one knows the failure I was, no one knows all the horrible things I did. All of that is light years behind me now. I get a chance to start over, even if it is as a star-pioneer. I AM better than my past. With all the neurological retraining I received in transit, I WILL be able to ignore the evil voices in my head.
(stage note: mechanical ship vox)
Mr Goetz, re-berth to Gamma -87.

Planet Z

The Pregnancy Simulator was caught in a loop
No matter what the technician tried, the patient in the holosuite popped out baby after baby.
Even though they were just force-fields and projected light, the screaming babies touched a nerve in the instructors and students.
Not to mention the patient, enduring two hours of absolute torture.
(Or so it seemed.)
“They’re not real,” said the technician, pulling the plug.
The screaming and crying from the holosuite ended abruptly.
“See?”
One student shouted “YOU KILLED THEM ALL!” and tried to attack the technician.
He was sent to the psychiatric simulator for treatment.

Unmentionables

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It is rude to make mention of one’s unmentionables.
This creates a rather interesting dilemma: what is an unmentionable?
If you cannot mention then, then how does one know what not to mention?
I heard about a Downtown club where they’d mention the unmentionables.
Knock twice, then once, and then three times.
The password is “They forgot to mention it to me.”
The cops used to raid the place all the time, but these days they just collect a bribe and move on.
It’s hardly worth mentioning, really.
Perhaps that’s why the unmentionables are unmentionable.
Forget I ever mentioned them.

The Great Deal

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Five billion Zimbabwean dollars sounds like a great deal of money, but it’s worthless.
Due to hyperinflation and three devaluations, what was once on parity with the American dollar became worth just one trillion trillionth of a cent.
Since printing and reprinting that money was impossible, the Zimbabweans went electronic with all payments.
Never mind that many Zimbabweans don’t have access to electricity. And by the time everybody’s pile of paper moved over to the e-banking system, the digit limit was reached and all accounts rolled over.
Now, they use American dollars.
(Which will one day do the same thing.)

Constructive

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We try to focus on constructive criticism in these sessions, Robert.
What’s constructive criticism?
Well, making spelling corrections in somebody’s stories, for one. Or suggesting better words that fit the context.
Dropping your pants and taking a dump on their manuscripts is not constructive criticism.
Nor is throwing your chair and screaming “Shut the fuck up, asshole!” when you don’t like someone’s piece.
What? You actually liked their work?
Then why did you do those horrible things?
Just because?
There’s such a thing as positive criticism, too. And crapping on something or beating someone with a chair still isn’t constructive.

Forget about the dragons

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It is illegal to slay a dragon. Even in self-defense.
Sure, there are no dragons in England anymore, but the law is the law, and it’s still illegal to slay dragons.
So when HM Revenue saw “Dragonslayer” on my return, I was picked up for questioning.
“Don’t you know that it’s illegal to slay dragons?” said the agent.
“There aren’t any dragons anymore,” I said. “There’s none left to slay.”
At that point, they handcuffed me and read me my rights.
“Why are you arresting me?” I said.
“You just couldn’t stop, could you?” they said. “You killed them all!”

Round, sort of

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It looks round, but in reality its a little squashed at the top and bottom.
Okay, so there’s no top or bottom on a round object, but we’re defining them based on its rotational axis.
Even though it’s round to your eyestalks and mine, sensors are what the Chief Ambassador relies on, and that’s saying it’s not round.
“The rule is for ignoring asteroids and rocky moons,” I protested. “This is the first planet we’ve found that’s inhabited in our survey sweep.”
“A rule’s a rule,” said the Chief Ambassador. “Let’s move on.”
We set course, and leave Earth behind.

Teaspoon

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The aliens don’t like water.
And for good reason. All it takes is just a little water to kill them. A teaspoon.
Walking around outside without an environment suit is like torture.
This is why it’s so important to keep them under guard around the clock.
People can be such jerks.
Tearing off a suit, knocking an alien into the water.
The worst was when some joker hacked the fire suppression system in the alien embassy.
The United Nations buildings ignored fire codes, but not the embassy.
That’s how the war started… and the oceans, rivers and lakes slowly vanished.

Weekly Challenge #213 – Flying Island and World Builders

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

Which were the best stories this week?
Steven
Brand
Jeffrey
Terrence
Zackmann
Norval Joe
TJ
Anima
Justin
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


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


Steven

As a child I read illustrated books about asteroid starships. I
dreamed of living in generation ships – islands of humanity in the
void. And now I do.
A cylinder is our artificial sun. Fields of grains feed us and
replenish our oxygen. The asteroid’s spin provides gravity. Imagine
a multiracial Rockwell painting in space. We’ll make a new world like
in the books.
The books left out the undead horde writhing over the planet we left
behind. The other ships have already succumbed, signals vanishing
after a few transmitted screams.
Our ship is uninfected.
But oh God, am I hungry.

Brand

Justin crouched on the edge of the cliff, hugging his knees and
wishing for wind. The warm, quiet nothing made his skin tingle with
unfulfilled expectation. He kicked a rock off the cliff, watching it
spin and fall into the dark nothing.
A passing light caught the rock as it fell. It spun around the light,
thick moss growing on the rock. Justin stood quickly, “No. Wait! I
didn’t want that!” But it was too late. The rock was soon covered in
moss, then people, buildings, doubt, rage, then it blew up with a pop.
Justin sat back down and sighed.

Jeffrey

There’s something to be said for being completely merciless, I’m usually the one to say it, it’s part of my job. I takes old worlds and crushes ’em up so they can go to the world builders to be made new again. I don’t look at who is living in them, ’cause I might start wondering if I’m doing the right thing. Had a young bloke here once that did, he saw one world with flying islands and all. When I smashed ’em, it drove him bonkers. Me I just smash ’em up, and let someone sort it all out.

Terrence

“On screen,” the Captain commanded, “now!” The screen flicked and the image of a large lumpy disk appeared on the screen on a back drop of stars.
“It looks like a flying island.” The helms man said shock in his voice.
“Yes, it does.” The Captain ran his fingers through his short beard. “After all these years of searching I have found it.” He stood and turned to his small three person crew. “This flying island as you call it, is the most important thing in the universe. Some call it the hand of god, it is the world builder.”

Zackmann

Welcome to the show. Please tell the audience your name?
Slartibartfast
Could you tell us about any of your accomplishments?
Fjords, I designed your Norway as you may Know.
Your current project is?
Another planet, my task is a flying island with fjords.
What made you decide to became a world builder?
I hesitate to call myself a world builder because I work for a big company that builds worlds. I would if I built them all by myself.
Sometimes I have to take time off to save the universe but I really rather be making fjords.
Thank You, Slartibartfast

Norval Joe

The audio chimed on sales representative 486’s termianl. She accepted the call and a small holograph of a man appeared above the data processor in front of her. “Thank you for calling World Builders, how may I help you?”
“I need a place to get away. Something that’s out of the way and not very noticable, but not to hard to get to, and not cold?”
“Then, you’d need something in the virtual worlds.”
He laughed, “Would I be building castles in the air if I said, ‘real world?'”
“Forget castles,” she said dryly, “you’d need a whole flying island.”

TJ

Jack and John face off in the cave with all the names. Desmond is bound
and gagged, as per John’s demand. “Is that really necessary?” Jack asked
as John gagged him, but John only shrugged “Your rules.”
Jack placed a white stone on the tray and both he and John waited for
the Golden Balance to level off. John began his transformation into a
Smoke Monster. Jack waved his hand, said “Mustn’t,” and John was
trapped. Jack whipped off Desmond’s gag. “New rule,” Jack said. Desmond
said “Fly!” The island rose into the sky and vanished, along with its
weirdness.

Anima

Napoleon looked peeved; dinner had been lacking. The fish had been cold, the salad warm, and dessert was some globby custard thing. His dabbling in empire and world building was getting the best of him.
“Napoleon, can we talk for once?”
“Josephine, really? I have a lot on my mind. Italy and Austria have shaped up nicely, but Lord Nelson is really nagging me, and I have half a mid to teach those Prussians a lesson.”
“I’ve been trying to tell you, but you only have time for war. I’ve met someone…”
And that’s when the floating island began to fly.

Justin

Captain Joshua activated the inversity fields on the lead tanks. His flying island, Lodestone, ascended above the two leaders. Igniting the magnesium boosters pushed Lodestone forwards over the islands. He hoped the inversity field generator held, otherwise he’d fall too soon and have to break, or risk collision. Lodestone rocked. The leftmost islands had fired weapons, breaching the rules! The generator stuttered. Lodestone descended. Steering left, Joshua released half the iron tanks, smashing the offending island. It sank. Lodestone came into place beside the remaining island. The other captain gave Joshua an OK sign, then the duel to win began.

Planet Z

At first, I thought the business card said “Word Builder Training.”
“It’s World Builder,” said the man in the grey suit. “We build worlds.”
“Seriously?” I asked. “How does one build worlds?”
“Close your eyes,” he said. “And imagine.”
So, I closed my eyes and tried to imagine. Flying islands, majestic rainbows, soft golden clouds.
“Are you imagining a world?” asked the stranger.
“Yes,” I said.
“Now open your eyes.”
I opened my eyes and saw… the café again.
“You’re not a world builder, so you came back.”
“Then make me one.” I signed the check and handed it over.

Mother In Lawless

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The old woman with the gun is my mother-in-law.
But she’s more like a mother-in-lawless.
She breaks into banks with ease, breaking out of jail and nursing homes even easier.
We’re not a close family, but we’re kept under a close watch as hostages. Instead of knitting us sweaters, she keeps us tied up and gagged.
And I don’t drive the getaway car because I’m a part of her gang. I drive it because she’s a horrible driver and her license was revoked by the state.
I’m only doing it to save lives.
Now put the money in the sack.