Welcome to the forty-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 Elisson from blog d’Elisson, and it’s Toothache.
Nine stories were submitted this week. Aww…. single digits!
Two rookies joined in… yay!
And, once again, some disturbing madness from Planet Z.
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):
WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s a packet containing at least 1 refrigerator magnet and a CD with the archive of the entire 100 word stories podcast. (Well, minus promos and junk)
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!
The full text of each story:
ELISSON
Norman woke up, the side of his face feeling like a Mack truck had run into it.
Crap, he thought. I’m gonna have to see a dentist pronto.
It was his own damn fault. He had indulged his sweet tooth mightily last week.
It began with a cream tangerine. Then, the Montelimar.
He loved the ginger sling (with a pineapple heart), followed by a coffee dessert.
What was better, the cool cherry cream or the nice apple tart? Perhaps the coconut fudge.
But that Savoy truffle was the last straw. Shit. Now he’d have to have them all pulled out.
MARK FROM HOUSTON
“This is tough,” he said, scratching his head.
He’d already missed two topics since his debut. This was his grand re-entrance. It had to be good. It had to be better than good.
The others might have real stories this time, something serious, even. Not just an exasperated monologue railing against some goofball-topic.
“You can make a real story using this one. It isn’t ‘fecal matter’ or, egad, ‘horbrgorble…'” he shuddered.
“I can do this!” he declared.
He put the pen to paper, writing slowly, with purpose.
He had his title. It was a start: “Toothache of a Lame Tale”
BRANDON
He knew that eating the canolis from Vinny’s would give him a toothache. But he didn’t care.
And why should he? It’s a freaking canoli!
From Vinny’s!
Six hours later, he was in agonizing pain.
“Oh, why couldn’t I have stopped at the chocolate cake and cappuccino?” He screamed.
Fortunately, there was a dental office at the end of the shopping strip. With TV’s on the ceiling.
He could get his toothache tended to while killing time watching a movie. Like, say, a horror flick.
Imagine getting your teeth worked on while watching the Texas Chainsaw Massacre
TOM
Hannibal bit down hard on the census taker. Damn that hurts. He questioned his choice of entrees. Buffalo Bob Burgers might have been less taxing on his k9s.
“Benjamin be a dear and pass the Chianti,” alanulated the doctor The pain in his mouth caused him to slurp the wine. If it hadn’t been for Jamie’s fava beans the evening would have proven to tedious.
Raspail wore the chestnut Catherine Martin to which the doctor replied ” love your suite.” Later Lector’s toothache was trumped by Benny’s headache. Jamie’s consuming need to get a head could get under your skin.
ANDREW
“That fucking hurts don’t it?” His companion asked a bloody stupid question annoying the man obviously in pain.
“Well of course it bloody does I have just lost a tooth because I was smacked in the gob by someone trying to get away from the police.”
“Ah don’t worry you are a have-a-go hero…you face slowed ‘im down enough the coppers got ‘im.” His friend said jealously. “I can see the Sun headline: A tooth hero!”
The man with the toothache saw the press-pack bearing down on him. He didn’t know whether to run, pass out or just enjoy it.
TERRENCE
I blinked, my heart still pounding in my chest but, I was regaining my thoughts. The smell started off faint but quickly grew. You know the saying “having the crap scared out of you”? Well, I don’t know who he was or how he did it, but here I am lay in an alley with the crap scared out of me.
I stood and looked around; at least no one else was here to see this. I took a step and before I knew it my hand was on my check.
“Oh great, and now I have a toothache too.”
RAHEL
Theresa was frightened. Phrases like “oral surgery” can be pretty scary for a nine-year-old. But she faced the dentist bravely and told him, “Do what you need to do.”
When it was over, her parents took her home to bed. Theresa staggered up the front walk, holding onto her mother’s hand.
Suddenly a black-and-white cat darted in front of her. Pain and grogginess forgotten, Theresa sank to her knees and began to pet it. Then she looked up at her parents with a glance first of entreaty, then of pure astonishment.
“It doesn’t hurt anymore,” she said.
The cat purred.
TED
I’ve read everything I could get my hands on. Learned all I could about the art of self dentistry.
One little kernel of unpopped corn, along with the momentum of chewing, and Blammo! I don’t know what I did exactly, but it hurts like a bitch!
I can’t justify the cost of a dentist, so my trusty Black and Decker cordless job will have to do the job.
OK, #45 drill bit, and wood putty should be about all I need. There is a little rust on the equipment, but I don’t mind. Oh yeah, I can’t forget the Tequila.
Here goes….
KELLY
There she sat, smiling so sweetly, looking as if you could hand her crap, and she’d have acted as though you gave her the world. She was the picture of some storybook princess, walking through the forest, singing with the animals. Yuck! About that time, my last straw snapped. I could not take this hippy-dippy, make-love, give-love shit anymore. I could not take one more minute of it. If I’d been made to listen any longer, I would have committed an inhuman act. Instead, I took a deep breath and said, “Please shut up, you are giving me a toothache.”
Z
A bent gear and a warped comb were sitting in a dentist’s office, both nursing awful toothaches.
“I hurt all around,” said the gear. “I should go first.”
“No, I should go first,” the comb moaned. “I have many more teeth than you.”
They argued for a minute. Then, the door opened, and a horribly snarled zipper walked in.
The comb and gear winced at the sight of the mangled zipper and agreed that it should go first.
“Of course I should go first,” said the zipper. “My appointment was an hour ago, but I kinda got stuck in traffic.”
Thanks to everyone for sending in their stories, and I look forward to what you’ve got to write (and say) next week.
The theme for next week’s Weekly Challenge will be posted shortly.
(In case you’re interested, I’ve settled on “Clair de Lune” as the opening music and “Moonshine” by Michael Oldfield from the Tubular Bells II album.)