Welcome to the seventieth 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 Caleb of the Black Tie Martini Club, and it was: Tears Of Joy.
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!
Z
When I heard that the love of my life was marrying another man, I said I was crying tears of joy, but, no. I wasn’t happy.
Now, when he got run over by a bus? Okay, those were tears of joy. But I said to her I was sad.
I was there for her. And, well, sure enough… she wanted to marry someone else.
They planned this skydiving marriage.
Her parachute worked. The preacher’s worked.
His didn’t.
Then she wanted to marry another woman. And…
I don’t know what to feel now.
I guess she’s just a fucked up bitch.
YXES
She awakes, smiling as the sun warms her face.
Remembering the events from the night before, a quick spike of
electricity shivers through her body.
Drifting back to the memory of his hands and lips loving every inch of
her, she remembers the sensuous ecstasy.
She vividly recalls the sheer satisfaction of the totally immersing
pleasure they had shared.
She can still hear his sweet romantic voice whisper in her ear, as she
relives her greatest fantasy coming true.
She cries quietly, her tears of joy, as the overwhelming emotions of
their love carries her over that brink once again.
GUY
I was just sitting there with my good friend Lony, knitting a sweater for my baby dragon, when my grandson walks in with tears of joy in his eyes. He doesn’t even pause for his favorite Salamander Eye snack. He says:
“Grandma Shunra, I did it, I turned my friend Blanchard into a log”. His first time. What a joy for us all, that is, all except dear Lony who says: “at his age I already turned people into bowls of soup and ate them, he is such a slow developer that kid”, so… I turned her into a frog.
JD
She was blue.
White clad doctors bent over the small body.
Blue, why was she blue?
Down the hall, behind the glass, others were a healthy pink.
She was blue. Why?
The doctor, poking, prodding, caring, covered her nose and mouth with a mask the size of a thimble.
Blue.
The clean, clear oxygen flowed into her body.
The blue began to fade.
Her eyes opened and those beautiful new green gold orbs looked into my aged blue eyes.
The perfect, small hand came up, pushed the mask away.
She smiled into me and tears of joy filled my heart.
TOM
Shema and Shoge thumbed through their respected copies of the Rising Sun Times. The headline glared CAS wins NAFTA decision against the Trail of Tears Corp. “Is that the Tears of Joy Indian brand cigarette case?” asked Shoge. “Yes it seems NAFTA Judge GW Bush ruled in favor of the Confederated Atlantic States. When CAS President Iron Eyes Cody was asked for comment he stated ‘Let Mr. Bush enforce the ruling.’ Shema loved the Tear of Joy commercials “HALF THE PRICE – DOUBLE THE NICOTINE” then this white guy doubles over coughing. Shoge poured another shot of OLD ANDY Everclear.
ELISSON
Ricardo Cabeza was the clumsiest cook ever to work the line at the Gowanus Lounge.
His orders would come out perfect, but always at the expense of seared fingers and trodden-upon toes. Working alone, he would trip all over himself; on the line, he created hopeless chaos.
Finally, his coworkers had had enough. They prevailed upon the owner to promote him to Executive Chef. He’d help make the restaurant a success, and he’d be out of everybody’s way.
Ricardo was ecstatic. In his excitement he squirted himself in the eye with dishwashing detergent…
…but his tears were tears of Joy.
LAIEANNA
The gypsy slid two more bottles towards Catherine. “For perfect potion you need to mix three drops Blood of Burning Lust, Eight drops Tears of Joy, Two skin flakes infatuation, and one drop saliva of heartache just before he drinks.”
Catherine stared in disbelief. “Aphrodite, huh? Shouldn’t you be on Mount Olympus?”
“Times change,” shrugged the gypsy
“Can you prove you’re the goddess?”
“Of course,” sighed the gypsy, shuffling to the caravan’s window. Pulling back the curtain, she revealed countless men staring in with desire. “Shew human knats or face the wrath of Hephaestus’s mighty lawnmower when he gets home!”
CHRIS
Are illegal immigrant retards taking jobs from America’s retards?
A Stanford University survey of the grocery chains in the Palo Alto area found that 47% of the baggers, cart retrievers and greeters were undocumented retards, that’s up from 32% last year.
Store manager Kyle Jenkins had this to say: “Look, I tried hiring American retards, but Mexican retards work much cheaper and are just as retarded. The last few I hired wept tears of joy when I paid them in M&Ms.”
Upon hearing Jenkin’s statement, Lotney Fratelli, steward of the local retard union offered the following rebuttal: “Hey you guys!”
OTHER CRAP:
Meryl Yourish was graceful enough not to call me a complete moron for my calling her instead of Elisson this week.
Shire Network News will feature one of my pieces for the 100th episode. Yay!
Carnal Knowledge is a book by one of my favorite daily podcasters, Charles Hodgson. I owe this podcast’s continues survival to his inspiration, since I often come up with my stories around the words he reviews and tales he spins about their odd origins.
There’s some kind of write-a-review podcast contest out there at Podcast Pickle going on.
Write reviews, win prizes. That sort of thing.
There’s also a way to write reviews for this podcast in iTunes and other directories.
Your Mostly Fearless Leader doesn’t command you to do so, but he is somewhat whinily cajoling and imploring you to do so.
Let a tiny slice of the world know how much you like or don’t like or could care less about this not-quite-so-bold endeavor.
Thank you.