Weekly Challenge #328 – Fair

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.

This is Weekly Challenge Number Three Hundred and Twenty-Eight, 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 Fair.

And we’ve got stories by a lot of people:

And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post… this obligatory cat photo should help make the Internet go faster:

myst on bricks

CIRCE

Look Here

Damn it, we are going to hell in a handbasket. We suffer storms never before at

such wide destrution.. (unless you count the Great Flood, of the Noah story).. We

go to see a movie and get mowed down like in a class B gangster movie.. We have to

be careful to be very PC about how we talk about that.. And oh, don’t eat Chick Fil

A … but HEY, try to remember that we are supposed to have the right to our own

opinion, and freedom of speech and what the hell has happened to us? Oh, my God!

LIZZIE

The Drama Fair promised to be thrilling; stress, arguments, misunderstandings, all in one place and for such a low price too. He checked the ticket, 1W. That was odd, in the chart the rows went up to 100M. He didn’t remember a W. But he followed the signs and eventually saw an arrow pointing him in the right direction. When he got to his place, he saw no one. “Where’s the drama?” The place was empty. He looked around and found a sign saying “Warning, enforced no drama area”. “What?! Damn it. I knew I shouldn’t have bought the cheapest ticket…”

THOMAS

Blond and fair, button nose. Lovely wrote poems, read them from her iPad. She read at the First Friday Open Mic Night. She stood close to the microphone, almost touching it with her glossy lips. She tossed her hair. Once, twice. We could hear her breathing as she read each line. From the back of the room, her friends snapped photos of her at the podium. It was like a rock concert. Lovely’s poems were desperate and insipid. We tried to be polite. Clapped when she finished. She curtsied, and I tasted a little bile in my mouth. Coffeehouse poet.

##

A fair weather friend, Norvil only called if he wanted to borrow the lawnmower, or to ask if I would pick something up for him next time I’m at the big hardware store in the city. I wouldn’t see him for months, and then the call. “Can I borrow your extension ladder. Yes? OK. Do you have a spare paint roller and pan? Great. I’ll be out, but if you can bring them over, my wife is home. Just leave them around back. Great. Super. Oh…your rose bush is hanging over the side fence. Do you mind cutting it back?”

##

Mrs. Frye was not fair at all. She taught American History, and relied on the rote method for everything. She tolerated no humor or anyone getting out of their seat. I would be out of my seat all the time. I was bored, and I hated the topic. She taught, but I didn’t learn. I used the class period to write in my notebook, copy gunpowder formulas out of the encyclopedias, or to go up behind Shirley Ragsdale and squeeze a bosom or two, and sometimes put a wet finger in her ear and wiggle it until she cried out.

SHRUTI

According to the advertisements she should have been 3 shades fairer by now. If only for once they told the truth. She’d tried all her grandmother’s recipes of milk, honey, lemon juice and what not. None of it had worked.

She turned 25 in September. If she didn’t find a match soon, the only eligible men would be divorcees and widowers. Her father would never hear of it.

To add to her troubles, societal norms said Ajay and Priya couldn’t get married until she, the elder sister was settled.

She looked at her dusky reflection and sighed…

Life wasn’t fair.

JEFFREY

When we were growing up, my kid brother Dan and I had very different approaches to getting Halloween loot. I’d carefully plan a lengthy evening, hitting a lot of houses – and I knew who gave out the good stuff, the Snickers and Reese’s Cups, not toothbrushes and that godawful Mike & Ike crap. Dan would hit a handful of our neighbors and call it a night.

Then the fun would begin. Against my protests, our parents would combine the candy and reallocate it between the two of us (snagging some of the best pieces for themselves, I might add). I might have done 70% of the work, but I ended up with less than half the haul.

“That’s not fair!” I’d whine, but of course Dan didn’t see it that way. “He’s your brother,” Mom always said, “so you need to split things with him.” I’d mutter under my breath, but my parents enforced their rule. As I got older, I realized the only thing I could do was to hit fewer houses, so my pile slowly shrank.

Now I run a successful business. Dan is a politician. I guess some things never change.

SERENDIPITY

The young woman arrived in the village in the early Autumn. Fayewren – for that was the maiden’s name – was fair and fresh of face, unlike the dark-skinned, ruddy-cheeked women of the village. Her flaxen tresses framed her delicate face; her lips, like rose petals, adorning her porcelain skin.

The young men, of course, entranced by her presence, followed her like puppy dogs, but they were charmless and uncouth in her sight – quite simply, she was the very epitome of beauty and grace.

We fed her to the dragon anyway – well, fair maidens are devilishly hard to come by!

TOM

“Fair is Fair,” yelled Frankie firing a burst of 9mms into the void.

“Fair is Fair,” screamed Johnnie returning the volley with a round of full metal jackets.

Next came a sortie of tow missiles followed by a barrage of MGM-51s.

“Whimp,” bellowed Frankie letting loose of his scuds.

“Pussy,” mocked Johnnies sending his Russian ICBMs into the black.

“Take, This,” ragged Frankie powering up his imperial death star.

“OH Yea,” railed Johnnie engaging his Ming the Merciless death ray.

Both of them hit the Super String Triple K Electron Resequencer button simultaneously. From the void came, “You missed.”

MUNSI

Fair?

Where does fairness become relevant?

Nobody ever said life was fair.

Nasty? Sure, life’s that. Brutish? Absolutely. Short? Oh yes, far too short. Doesn’t seem short at first, but as you live you realize it’s shorter than any man can reasonably bear.

But fair? No. It’s unreasonable to even hope it might be. I’ve no idea who’s been filling your head with such nonsense. Fairness…

Oh, I said life was fair? When did I say that?

Yesterday?

Oh, yeah, I vaguely recall that.

I lied.

People lie sometimes, get over it.

After all, nobody ever said life was fair.

TURA

There were a human, a Ferengi, and a Klingon. They plotted to hijack a spaceship and steal its cargo of unrefined dilithium. The human’s subterfuge got them on board undetected. The Klingon overcame the crew. The Ferengi was able to get the best black market price for the dilithium.

To divide the spoils, the human proposed, “We should have equal shares. That is fair.”

The Ferengi responded, “No! Without me, you could never have got such a good price. I claim half! That is fair!”

The Klingon drew his disruptor and killed them. He roared, “may ‘oH! Hoch vItlhap jItlhInganmo’!”*

(*) “THAT is fair! I take everything, because I am a Klingon!”

YORDIE

Uncle Bill told us we were going to stop at Mr. Gawddamnit’s house so he’d open the gate.

Cousin Michael asked, “who is Mr. Gawddamnit?”

Aunt Annie explained, “When Mr. Gawddamnit was a boy he got hit in the head with an axe. He lived but afterward the first word he said was ‘gawddamnit.’ And he never stopped.”

Uncle Bill said, don’t annoyed him because he’s crazy.

We arrived at Mr. Gawddamnit’s gate. He said, “Gawddamnit hey Mr. Bill!” and “Gawddamnit got that gate!”

We drove through and the man looked at us. He said, “Gawddamnit Miss Annie… pretty kids!”

CLIFF

Mirror mirror on the wall.
Who’s the fairest of them all?
The butcher is a man quite sound.
He sells meat by the honest pound

Mirror why do you vex?
I mean fairest of the fairer sex!
The barmaid by the name of Sal
Whether you’re drunk or straight, she’s an honest gal.

Mirror when I speak of fair,
I speak of beauty, skin and hair.
But my queen, you can’t deny
That beauty’s in the beholders eye.

Mirror, I’ve a hammer here
Now can you make your answer clear?
Oh, now I understand,
You’re the fairest in the land.

ZACKMANN

“I need your fare if you want to ride this shuttle to the ticket gate
but if you don’t want to pay it is less than a two miles away. Since
it is such a fare day you might enjoy the walk.” said the shuttle
driver.
“Fair is fair, I will be doing a fair amount of walking already,
Hopefully enough to walk off the deep fried fare. Last year my diet
did not fare well and my fare wife threatened to find me a fair deal
on a hog scale if I didn’t stop eating too much fair food.”

BOTGIRL

“So you don’t have any money?” he crooned in an oily voice that made her cringe right down to her painted toes. “That’s fine. I’m sure we can figure out a fair trade.”

She wanted to run. She wanted to hide. She wanted to choke the leer out of his little weasel eyes. But she hurt. Hurt bad.

“I guess a loan’s out of the question?” she joked. Stalling.

“You’ll get what you want when I get what I want,” he said, unzipping his pants.

“Fine,” she sighed, forcing down the bile in her throat. “Bend over you little bitch.”

SEVI AND BONCHANCE

Fair by Sevi and BC

At the edge of the woods, a fun house stood near the fair.
A dishevelled clown stood at the entrance luring people in with an evil grin.
Admission was 50 cents.

Clumsy reeked of drink, people were put off.
The next day, a new sign. “Free Puppies on Exit”

Sally paid. She almost made it to the exit alive.
A few feet from the exit, she noticed the decaying skeletons.

Suddenly 13 ferocious snarling little puppies, led by Pablo and Espi’s lil Pepe rushed towards Sally.
Screams pierced the air as sharp milk teeth sunk into her tender soft skin.

Fair by Sevi and BC

Tom knew life wasn’t fair. His existence was filled with hardships,
He called orphanages some sort of “home” since a wee boy.

By 9 years old, an accomplished thief, his first murder at age 12.
Tom lived tough, never expecting or giving any kindness in his life.

Standing at the gallows, he reminisced as the executioner tightened the noose.
His reverie was interrupted by the warden saying: “As a courtesy sir, do you have any last words?”
He shook his head no, thinking to himself….. FINALLY!
The executioner later remarked seeing Tom smiling as the death hood slipped into place.

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

Randoph growled from behind the curtain. “It isn’t right.” He tensed, but I restrained him with a hand.

“Not yet, brother.” Our nostrils flared with the smells of teenagers drenched in perfume and desperate older women. “Not yet.”

The movie marathon paused before the final film.

“Now,” I said, extending my fangs as, under the moonlight, Randolph’s fur sprouted from his skin.

We strode before the screen, sparkling body lotion glittering, the crowd going wild.

Afterward, Randolph kept muttering. “Still not right. We deserve more than minimum wage.”

“Plus tips,” I said, retrieving dollar bills from my pants. “Plus tips.”

REDGODDESS

This month, the state transportation authority raises the fares for buses and trains. They triple the price for seniors and students. In some areas, bus routes are restricted. Commuters take to the streets. They jump the turnstiles to show these power hungry executives they are fed up. Lola sees all sides of the argument even though she too, will be affected by these changes. She wonders how is it fair for people to choose whether to buy groceries, medications or pay for a damn bus pass? It seems these transportation managers cut their sense of decency with the annual budget.

ANIMA ZABALETA

Lulu is a grand mountain of a madam.

She’s housemother for the trapeze girls, the one they come to for emotional support when the applause and the their looks begin to fade.
Lu feeds the lions and tigers, tossing hefty bales of catnip to her “kitties”.
She always has a pot of verbena tea brewing, with maybe a drop of something stronger for the Midway barkers when their throats are raw.
Lulu is fearless as she chides the Ringmaster when he is being overly arrogant.

She might have a beard and weigh 700 pounds, but she is my fair lady.

DANNY

The Fairness Doctrine, meant to ensure that a variety of views, beyond those of the licensees and those they favored, were heard on our airwaves. In August 1987, the FCC abolished the Fairness doctrine by a 4-0 vote. This allowed Newt Gingrich, in the GOPAC memo of 1994, to strongly advocate describing Democrats as decay, failure, collapse, deeper, crisis, urgency, destructive, sick, pathetic, liberal, betray, shallow, traitors, and sensationalists. This position has been adopted wholeheartedly by our mainstream media, owned by the rich and affluent, and hell bent on not telling news, but making profits. Well, doesn’t that sound FAIR, (and BALANCED)!

NORVAL JOE

Owen screamed as only a chicken could. He flapped his wings and tried to escape the wizardess’s strangle hold. After her arms were arms were scratched, pecked and bleeding Shareeka stuffed the chicken into a canvas bag.
To be fair Owen was a chicken and, rather than wait for him to reverted to his normal form, Shareeka turned Traveler into a chicken hawk. Lunging into the sky in search of the demon hoard Traveler screeched at the boy. What chicken wouldn’t act like, well, a chicken?
Even more unfair was an hour later when Owen reverted to being a boy.

PLANET Z

Buttons always sleeps on my twin sister’s bed.

Our friends and parents can’t tell us apart, but Buttons can.

I’ve traded beds with her, but Buttons still sleeps next to her.

Treats under my pillow. Catnip on the blanket.

It’s not fair.

I beg my parents for another cat, saying how Buttons is lonely and needs a cat-friend.

I promise to clean the litterboxes, pay for the vet bills out of my allowance, and get good grades.

We pick up a kitten. I name her Mittens.

That night, I watch her sleep, curled up against Buttons on my sister’s bed.