Welcome to the fiftieth 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 Manata of the Squirrel Bait, and it’s Location, Location, Location.
Ten stories were submitted this week. DOUBLE THEM DIGITS!
No rookies are in the mix… boo!
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
And, once again, some disturbing madness from the one we all knew and loved as 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)
Since next week is going to be the first anniversary, a Geeklabel.com gift certificate will be tossed in to the mix. Being first sometimes helps, so this week’s vote counts a lot.
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:
TOM
“Location location location” screamed the realtor
the wind ripped her words and
pulled them up the teetering bouldered cliff.
“What?” cried Brian his voice
drowned out by the pounding surf.
Weakly she extends arms pointing at
the mountain above and the ocean below.
“The subdivision is called Tsunami Estates
this doesn’t instill confidence,” yelled Brian.
“What’s in a name?” smiled the realtor.
“And the San Andreas fault line over there?”
“Dormant.”
“Brushfires?”
“Smell that ocean air.”
“See that eroding seawall.”
“Did you know this lot is directly over Sharon Stone’s hot tub?”
“SOLD”
yelled Brian dodging the cascading boulders.
CALEB
When I wake up on Saturday, the first thing I do is root around for some mail or anything with an address that can show me my location. Then I sneak out.
After a cab home and quick Keith Richards Transfusion to sober up, I sit and wait for the weekly challenge. I won’t leave that location until the weekly challenge is on my iPod.
Once it’s been downloaded, I take the bus to my special listening location, the grocery store. I just can’t shop without hearing all these wonderful stories.
When there is no weekly challenge, I go hungry.
GUY DAVID
“Rodney hated his boss, Mr. Miller. He hated his over-ironed shirt and he hated the way he would say “Real-estate, location, location, location”, meaning “buy some undisturbed part of the city and build the biggest, ugliest shopping mall on it”. Then, Rodney got fired.
Rodney got his revenge though. He forged some papers, and based on those, the company purchased some land on the name of Mr. Miller. When the big boss found out, Mr. Miller was fired immediately. After all, no-one wanted to invest in a place like Lithium, Missouri, where the sign reads population, zero.”
LAIEANNA
“Ma, I ain’t feelin’ quite right bout taken dis here land from dat city man.”
“Don’t matter no more, Pa. Man’s got his own fancy house. Ain’t no
need for this place.”
“Still not right. Down right cheap for such nice land. Gots our own
pond and everythin'”
“Dat man took our livestock fair and square and now we’re out from
under dat sinkin’ farm.”
“Funny him turning all white when our goat took a likin’ to him in the
friendly kinda manner.”
“Take that dirty talk outside! And while you’re out, fetch one of
them swamp critters for supper”
TERRENCE
Raoul followed his father and the agent into the hall. The roof
looked to be made of bone and dripped something that burned his skin.
His farther walked over the window looked out and shook his head.
The agent led them to a vast field of reeds that blew in a gentle
breeze. Again his father shook his head.
They walked on until they came to a vast cave filled with flames.
Raoul’s father reached through an opening on the far side. After a
moment, he returned with a contact signed in blood. He smiled and
said “Location, location, location.”
MANATA
You know that old cliché: “Another day, another dollar”?
Well, it certainly applies to me.
I took the first job I could get right out of college, and for the first few months I hated it with a passion. “Traveling Insurance Salesman” doesn’t sound very glamorous, I know. Especially when they transferred me to a different region.
Northern Spain? Seriously? I didn’t even know any Spanish. But, hey , it worked out great. Now I’m raking in the money and I only work one day every year: July 7th…in Pamplona.
You know that other old cliché: Location, location, location.
Andale!
CHRIS
Eight innings in, the annual Springfield Methodist Father Son Baseball game is still tied zero to zero. It’s getting very interesting though. Terry Jarvis, the Dad’s reliable lefty, just loaded the bases on three straight walks.
Who’s up next for the Son’s? None other than Terry’s boy Stephen.
Terry looks in to the catcher for the sign. Shakes off the curveball; going with the fastball. It’s slowed a bit in the later innings but his pitch location has been remarkable.
The wind up and the pitch, nailed him in the temple!
Little shit should know not to crowd the plate.
TED
I still remember being that awkward teenager, and the day my father proudly called me into his office, to discuss the birds and the bees.
“Son, Take this, put it in your wallet and keep it there. You never know when the opportunity might arise, and you’re always better safe than sorry”.
“But why?” I asked.
“Just keep it there!” he said.
I took his advice.
Don’t ever take a fathers advice. I should have known better than to listen to that fool.
17 children later, and I still have that Trojan in my wallet. A lot of good it did.
TO4M
The north American Grizzly. Not a creature to be taken lightly. Bob, Fred and Julio’s vacation expedition in the Northwest held a mix of excitement and nervousness in their pursuit of the giant beast. The plan was to approach them slowly and be as non-threatening as possible. Carelessness can get you eaten. The expedition began early in the morning and was uneventful for most of the trip. As the day progressed Bob began to doubt if this whole trip made any sense. The reality was that in terms of location the choice of downtown Seattle was indeed a poor one.
PATTI
When she entered through the double doors, the bartender knew it was 11:35. He filled a glass with ice and started pouring before she was seated at the bar.
“Vodka-tonic,” she said.
“Howzit, Nellie?” he asked.
Checking her reflection in the mirror behind the bar, she absentmindedly smoothed her eyebrows with her left ring finger.
“It goes,” she sighed.
He handed her the drink and began to make her another.
“One more, Eddie” she said after the first sip.
The bar wasn’t in the nicest part of town but the drinks were cheap and Eddie never gave her any shit.
PLANET Z
I wake up in the street, face down in a pool of blood.
Must call… must call… my cell phone, pushing buttons…. Nine… one… one…
A soothing voice over the line: “What is your location?”
The words stick in my throat. Try to choke them out, try to say “Smithlands” but all that comes out is a raspy croak.
“I’m sorry, but that is not a location I am familiar with. What is your location?”
I know I’m running out of time, but…
“What is your location?”
It’s just a recording. It can’t help me.
But it’s just… so… comforting.
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.