Welcome to the sixty-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 Rocky Torok from the Northwest Territories of Edloe Island, and it was: Yak.
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):
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
Yellow Yoni Yurt Yearned Yuri.
“Yolanda Yellow Yak,” Yelled Yuri.
Yearling Yolanda Yak Yarelessly Yawned.
Yuri Yanked Yoked Yellow Yak.
Yolanda Yapped Yipped Yelped Yes.
Yeasty Yam Yen Yolanda Yielded.
“Yonder Yankee Yahoos” Yelled Yuri.
Yak Yolanda Yexed Yellow Yams.
Yuri Yammered, “You You You!”
Youthful Yahoos Yanked Yearling Yak.
Yuri Yelped Yipped Yapped Yes.
“Yellow Yurt Yet,” Yelled Yuri.
Yeshiva Yale Yachtsmen Yes
Yeshiva Yale Yachtsmen Yup
Yodeled Yearly Yule Yodels
“Yuck Yuck,” Yelled Youths
Yankee Yahoos Yielding Yearling
“Yeah,” Yelled Yuri “Yeah.”
Yarrished Rolanda Yawned Yernlessly.
Yielding Yellow Yoni Yurt
Yuri’s Yarn Yesterday’s Yarn
“Yakity yak” Yammer Yolanda
JD
The 4th Mounted Yaks were the heart of the regiment. They had fought in every war for a 100 years. Each campaign had brought new glory. Each battle had added to the legend. Only foes knew the terror of the charge of 500 yaks. Sparks jumping from their flying hooves as they pound across a rock covered plain. Flame red eyes stabbing deep into the soul. Steel encrusted horns gleaming in the early morning sun, ready to gore. Line after line of hairy humped bovines closing in, blood lust filling their brains.
Did you ever smell 500 yaks?
Yaks.
Yuck.
CALEB
Poised the attack yak is ready to pounce
Natural born killer this fiend ounce for ounce
The fearsomest deadliest of all of the yaks
Very few ever see one even fewer come back
Hooves like thunder, lightning for veins
Joe went looking for one but all that remains
Are his screams of anguish from up on the hill
Sometimes in autumn I hear those screams still
Now we square off this attack yak and I
I go for my rifle I hear his wild cry
And how does it end with defeat or aplomb
To find out just visit yakpenis.com
GUY DAVID
The Red Yak of Destiny is an understanding god. When we need crops for the winter, he gives us crops. When we battle with the twotelgloo tribe, we win.
Last summer, I went and asked The Red Yak of Destiny for a son, but instead he gave me a daughter. I got angry at him. I went back to him and said “you gave me a daughter when I asked for a son.” He just smiled and asked me to bring my wife. Next summer I had two boys. Sure, they have long red fur and horns, but their mine.
LAIEANNA
The auditions weren’t going so well and Lydia was tired. She buzzed for the next potential failure to be ushered in. None of the actors had been right for the part. The company needed someone who was perfect to appeal to their target buyers. With a new product, the first ads were always crucial.
The door swung open. Lydia glanced up at the next actor shuffling in. Shocked, she stared in awe as he began his line.
“I can’t believe it’s not yak butter,” he said with confident surprise.
Lydia sprung up, applauding wildly. “That was fabulous, Fabio! Absolutely fabulous!”
ELISSON
Morris was a miserable Mongol.
He was the hindmost in his Horde. Weak of arm, near of sight, with compromised riding skills, there was no chance he would ever amount to anything in the empire of the great Khan.
Worst of all, he hated yaks. Loathed everything about them: their stinking wooly coats, their rancid milk, their stringy meat.
Unfortunately for Morris, the Mongol diet was 98% yak, 2% green leafy vegetables. Clothing? All made from yak wool, including the boxers. Itchy.
And, of course, everyone lived in yurts made of yak-skin.
“It’s enough to make me yak!” shouted Morris.
ROCKY
It began as a social experiment.
I wanted to bring in livestock to my community, for several reasons. Besides the fact that
I’m just crazy about Yak, I really wanted to bring a little something extra to my neighbors,
besides richer soil.
I noticed the other day, one of the females was looking a little bit sad. I’ve seen that
look before. It was heartbreak.
With a series of dashes and dots, I had Bessie stamp out in Morse Code what was bothering
her.
With a big yak tear in her eye, she stamped out in code her pain in one single word…
RADAR….
CHRIS
Hello Clarice. Don’t bother with the trace, I’ll be brief.
I understand you just had a birthday. Did you receive my gift basket? The hand crème contains a special moisturizer derived from yak’s milk, something you can’t get stateside. I do hope you’ll try it once forensics is done with it.
Tell me Clarice, was there a party at the office? Did the FBI spring for a cake, pass a card around for signatures, gather at your desk to sing happy birthday? Sounds charming; pity I couldn’t make it.
Well I believe our time is up. Happy Birthday, Agent Starling.
Z
A mad, shaggy beast is running amok on Main Street, smashing cars and breaking store windows.
Sheriff calls for help, and a pickup truck pulls to a stop in the middle of the street.
His ancient boots are cracked with time, caked with mud from distant lands.
He raises his hand slowly and approaches the beast, humming a Himalayan sleeping chant.
The tornado of horns, fur, and hooves slows… and stops with a grunt.
The Yak Whisperer places his hand on the beast’s forehead and smiles.
His other hand holds a gun, and he shoots.
The town will dine well tonight.
Podcast Ready is holding a contest for referrals and signups using their very cool podcatching software.
I’ve been using that software for well over a year, and I absolutely love it. I just pop Ziggy’s chip into my system, let it sync up, and then put the chip back in the phone… no more hassles with downloading podcasts manually.
Want to see me win? Just sign up for PodcastReady using the promotional code CRAP to sign up, or edit your profile to use the promotional code CRAP.
To edit your profile:
- Go to PodcastReady
- Sign in with your username and password
- Click on Preferences
- Scroll down to Promo Code and type in CRAP
- Click on the OK button.
Isn’t that simple?