Weekly Challenge #43 – Staff Of Life

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Welcome to the forty-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 Elisson from blog d’Elisson, and it’s Staff Of Life.
Eight stories were submitted this week. We’re melting! Melting!
No rookies joined in, but a few recent rookies have been making up for absent veterans… 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):

Who had the best story in Weekly Challenge #43?
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
Elisson of blog d’Elisson
Tom from Footnote
Terrence from Never Was
Laieanna from HodgePodge Point
Caroline from Quadra
Kelly Burt from Come Let Me Whisper
K Nine from Dead Dog Walkin
The Twisted Bard of Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


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

For years, the magazine was Required Reading in almost every American home.
It became a national icon after adopting its new photojournalism format in 1936. Covering everything from the momentous to the mundane, its renowned photographers – Edward Steichen and Alfred Eisenstaedt among them – filled its pages with Pulitzer prize-winning pictures.
But now it was 1972, and the tastes of America had changed. Sales plummeted.
Henry Luce called his employees in to give them the bad news. He couldn’t afford to pay them.
How ironic, he thought. It simply took too much bread to maintain the staff of /Life/.

TOM

I pretty much lived at the Staff of Life for three years. The bakery was owned and run by surfers, thus an extremely loose work ethic. When Wayne and I took over the shipping operation our Chicago ways rattled the Santa Cruz sensibilities. We worked 14 hours shifts and once we craved out a work space we guarded it violently. It wasn’t uncommon to see signage saying “Touch this and die.” And “Put anything on this shelf we’ll break your fucking fingers.” We were bad asses in the land of pauchlee. Where we walked whispers, “There goes Mr. Bad Vibes.”

TERRENCE

I bet you don’t know this but I have been written out of the book.
That’s right me, Raoul have been written out. I bet you’re wondering
why?
Well, back in the day, I was the only one that had one and I knew how
to use it. I had that little lady hanging off my finger. One day,
after our encounter, I gave her a snack. Well that little tramp took
one bite and ran off to share it with him. This upset the guy
upstairs and after throwing them out, he gave every man the staff of
life.

LAIEANNA

“Here’s the primary part of our facility.”
“Quite an establishment you guys developed.”
“We had to change with the times. There are a lot more people in this
world than when we first started and we’re not getting any younger.
It just became to much for the three of us to handle. Our staff is
fully trained in each of the duties, and we offer a great benefit for
our employees.”
“You mean benefits.”
“No, benefit…immortality. What more do you need?”
“Oh! Do I qualify to work at Fates Incorporated? I always wanted to
put people’s lives into my hands.”

CARRIE

My name it aint nothing, said Moses when God asked him to lead the children of Israel out. Zipporah quickly zipped off Gershom’s foreskin to appease Him, and saved the day. Moses threw his staff onto the floor, it turned into a snake. Pharaoh’s magicians did the same- He took the staff of life and hit the Nile. Blood everywhere. The magician’s copied. Moses stretched out his staff over the waters, frogs covered the land. The magician’s copied. Then flies, boils, hail, dead sheep. “Why can’t we do that,” cried the magicians.
“See what you can do when God’s on your side.” Replied Moses.

K NINE

“Guardian Angel Number Three reporting… That was a
close one”
K-nine had almost stepped out in front of a speeding
cab, but then had to stop to scratch his ankle at the
curb. As he blissfully wandered down Austin’s 6th
Street, Angel Five made him crave a hamburger just
before he bought a ptomaine tainted hotdog from a
street vendor. Angel Two arranged for a huge biker to
walk back into a bar before K-nine winked at said
biker’s girlfriend. Angels One and Four rested before
their shift. It was a tough job being on this
particular Staff of Life.

CALEB

Once a year they square off in secret, The Staff of Life Magazine and the Staff of Life Cereal. The game they play is ancient and deadly, similar to soccer or rugby but played with a human head.
The prize? The winners win the Staff Of Life Staff Of life trophy. They also get to sacrifice and eat the flesh of the losers.
They used to just play for beers after the game but ever since Mikey grew up and became team captain it’s gotten increasingly gruesome. You know Mikey, he’ll eat anything. He likes it. He really likes it!

KELLY BURT

It’s never good when a child realizes that they are cooler than an older sibling, but for Katie, it was mortifying.
She never knew of this less-than-attractive life her older brother lived. She didn’t know that there were secrets that should have been kept.
She won’t ever forget the scene set before her. The dice, books, and was that a G.M.? Alas, what will be etched in her memory forever is her brother pretending to resurrect a dead elvish maiden, “Live damn you. I call upon the Staff of Life.”
“What a geek,” said Katie, shaking her head.

Z

“Give us now our daily bread,” chanted the room full of monks, heads bowed over the tables in the dining hall.
One stood up. “Johnson got a high score in DDR last night!” he shouted.
All the other monks stood up and cheered, and Johnson was raised to their shoulders in a victory lap around the dining hall.
The abbot thumped his cane on the floor and scowled at the raucous mealtime disruption.
The cheering stopped.
“Return to your seats!” growled the venerable leader.
He’d have to bust some seriously wicked moves to get the honor of high score back.


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.)