Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty 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 And then you put it in the blender….
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):
Back in 1868, Jose and myself were about to rob the 801 coming out of
Barstow. It was hot and dry day and we were getting mighty thirsty. The 801
was late as usual and all we had to drink was tequila, We were getting drunk
on all that harsh tequila until Jose informed us that he was from the future
and pulled out this fancy thing called a blender and he had an automatic ice
He sliced up some limes and put it all in this futuristic contraption and
then he gives us this juice. He called it.. the Margarita!
I’m glad that Jose Cuervo was a friend of mine
Is that a Terran artifact?
Yes, an ancient torture book I think…
This Fannie Farmer was a cruel Enforcer…
No mercy for dissidents… listen…
Beat the whites until frothy…
Quarter the chicken, cutting along the backbone…
Grill over low flame, until skin is crisp…
Take the fruits, put them in the blender, pulse until smooth…
Can you imagine the mess?
If that’s the treatment for proclivities, I wonder what Farmer did to anarchists?
Life is more civilized now…
If there is weakness in the gene pool, it’s eliminated before emergence from the test tube.
Homogeny equals peace, brother.
No standard diet products had worked, and all were expensive. Then he’d caught the end of that infomercial promising amazing results using simple veggies and water; before the theme music had ended, he’d placed his order. When the instructions and blender arrived, he couldn’t wait to try it.
Now, he looked at the booklet in disgust. He had spent thirty minutes cubing ten carrots and cucumbers. He read the last sentence again: “Then you put it in the blender. This recipe depends on fresh veggies; ensure you have enough for each batch.”
The blender made quick work of the booklet.
Everybody must have at least two doses of nonsense with one serving of silly each day. To get your daily dose slowly skip into the kitchen, while tempting a thought tornado to twist. Let visions of chickens in pink, polka dot underwear yelling, “I’m free!” dance across your mind’s screen. For pizzaz toss in a chartreuse platypus singing “Higgely, Wiggely Aye. Where’s my opera pie?” And let these pictures, songs and scents whizz together into a marvelous mind mousse. Then tilt your head and let the mousse slide out of your ear and into the blender. Add ice and puree.
Eyes closed. She was dreaming.
She was sitting on the edge of the kitchen counter. Perched there with the backs of her heels drumming gently against the cupboard doors. They were talking.
He dumped a handful of raspberries into the blender and switched it on high, before casting a crooked grin her way. Her nose crinkled in distaste as she watched the mixture churning together. He was saying something to her. But the words slipped away like smoke before she could quite hear. Nightfall was once again approaching, pulling her from the deep sleep.
Her eyes opened. She was alone.
Edie, a forgiving woman, had been married to “Chef” for years. She caught him cheating again and made a deal, allowing “desserts”.
[In walks a redhead; Chef’s favorite]
“Hi, I’m Mary”
[A brief tour, then the kitchen].
Edie “you’ll be making lobster with crab-dip stuffing”.
[Hands Mary Chef’s recipe]
“When it’s done you can…”
[Mary, confused, interrupts]
“I’m here for a patient”
“I know, follow me”.
[Horrified, Mary stares]
“He must be fed and cared for by a nurse. Take his meal, then you put it in the blender”
A faceless man, alone, unable to taste his favorite dishes anymore.
Chaketo Chirapa was stuck at the airport. His plane was cancelled,
and there wasn’t another one until tomorrow. He avoided The Humans
and stayed hidden under his cloaking device, catching fragments of
– Had to send it beck…
– Is she really going out with that guy? Is she crazy?…
– Then you put it in the blender…
– I don’t think you should be telling her that…
– Then, I turned her into a frog…
As he listened more and more, he was less and less sure of his way.
Should he really try to gain the trust of those strange Humans?
When he entered the dimly lit store the clerk was a statue; his ancient skin, pale grey as cement; chin on chest in apparent slumber.
The clerk hadn’t moved when the young man passed him and ambled down the aisle to the frozen food.
A voice started him from his stasis, ” …then you put it in the blender…”, and it trailed off down the aisle to his right.
He turned to the direction of the receding voice and in his minds’ eye, followed it to the door, where it left him behind.
“Take me!” he screamed, but without sound.
Laura was concerned about her kitten Ralph. He had been left outside in the rain and he was drenched to the bone. Carefully she wrap him in a towel and popped him into the micro wave. After a few minutes Laura thought Ralph’s fur looked a bit matting so she set the hair dry on high and ran it over the cat for a bit. Not totally pleased with the outcome a tiny voice within said “Then you put it in the blender…” Thank God for Mom who finally rescued Ralph from baby Laura and thank God for Fisher – Price Appliances.
Should I try selling the blender, or the lighters? No ashtrays, blender.
Hello ma’am! Can I interest you in a state of the art blender?
Come in! Show me in the kitchen.
She opened the kitchen door and I set up my presentation on the island. The old woman seemed nice. I don’t take advantage, mind you.
So, this blender can cut through… blend this newt, bat wings, and octopus eye? Wait a minute!
I tossed the lighters in the blender, hit On, slammed the door behind me, and dove out the front door.
I hate selling in Salem.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. The guests praise the drinks, my
bartending skills. It is part of why Vinnie’s parties are popular.
I used to be the bad child, “not gonna amount to nothing”; a stark
contrast to my sister’s channeled angel… until Vinnie took me in. A
foot soldier, then lieutenant, now barkeep and “cleaner”. I’d
straightened up even as gambling devoured my sister’s bank account,
house, marriage. Her debts got out of hand. Her assets
“Howdja get your Bloody Marys so good?” a mobster calls at me.
“Family secret,” I say, heading towards the kitchen.
The photo showed two people completely in love. You could tell from her eyes and her smile.
Roger put the picture in a stack with the others, next to his cell phone. He had just called her in the middle of the night to hear her voice. It was their first time apart. A man had answered; Roger hung up when he heard the sleepy feminine voice in the background.
He straightened the stack and then put it into the blender. He switched it on, then blindly switched off the phone with the wrong number still backlit on the screen.
“It’s simple.” Fred’s boss had explained, “Put them in the Blender. Check the restraints. The blue button engages the restraints. The yellow button unlocks the braking mechanism. The green button starts the Blender up and finally the red button will stop the the Blender when the time is up. It’s not that hard”
Fred’s boss wasn’t pleased with him at all. This was the second time he had forgotten to engage the restraints. That was very bad for business. Cleanup and body disposal took an hour.
Still, they waited in line. It was more exciting than the Tilt-A-Whirl.
Seti Inbox message:
Hello Seti user 91b235f59a396d54g0c5f27cd5b8d168
We are very amused by your search for us. We are touched by the fact that you care so much, to spend your time looking for us, but we are not lost. We picked up a map at the Texico station, it has been quite useful. But we are not sure what a NEW JERSEY or TURN PIKE are.
We do appreciate all of the things that you have been sending us, especially the Beagle craft, it was a little tough at first but then we put it in the blender. Once softened up it was Yummy
I bought a couch, table, and blender at that church sale.
The couch reeked of cat piss, the table wobbled and the blender’s motor was dead.
I should have tested it before the party.
The couch and table, thrown out. The blender, I kept. Held a goldfish.
Chicks came by my place, I showed them the fish and pushed a button.
Some laughed, some called me evil and left.
Eighty years since I put that fish in the blender. Goldfish aren’t supposed to live that long.
What are you? I ask it.
No answer. It’s just a fish, right?