Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Ninety-Three, 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… was…. um…
It’s Mucus and Eyes Like An Owl!
The excellent theme music is by Guy David.
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):
Steven
I go over the edge of the trench with the gas. It rolls in thick
liquid clouds.
The enemy is surprised. Both of us are hampered by gas masks. My
bayonet slices up, straps snap, and his mask falls away.
His eyes widen into owl eyes, pupils dilating from the poison. Snot
and blood pour from his mouth and nose. He clutches his chest and
gasps to a stop. His bowels release staining his trousers as he dies.
I breathe in through my mask’s charcoal filters. I smell nothing.
I raise my rifle and shoot a stranger twenty feet away.
TJ
They couldn’t fault him for tardiness. New Year’s Day he was at work before the foreman. His attire was that of a sharp-dressed man, still living the high life from the night before. True, he could’ve cleaned up a little. He came to suddenly, hungover, nose running, stubbly and red eyes staring like an owl’s. But his penmanship was perfect – or rather, that of his asshole friends, who left him passed out under seven-foot letters, “I QUIT!” He saw them when his boss kicked the nearby aerosol can at his head. “Happy New Year,” he grumped. “Now clean that up!”
Zachmann
I found a metal box, well more of a cylinder. I opened it up and there was a creature who was covered in mucus and had eyes like an owl. The creature sat up and said “May I use your shower or at least a hose? This mucus kept me alive in stasis but it is kind of gross and I would like to clean it off me.” After it used my shower, it told me it had questions for someone involved in the Clay Fenton incident and asked me if I knew where It could find The Space Turtle.
JRadimus
He was led, still shackled, from a bright anteroom into the darkened arena. The chanting of the crowd echoed off the walls; the combined din throbbed in Plaq’s ears. His eyes began adjusting to the dimness. His captors dimmed the lights for this death-match for the benefit of his owl- eyed opponent. For sadistic aliens, these creeps were annoyingly even-handed about their ritual sacrifices. At least they’d given him gauntlets so he could grip his foe’s mucus-covered body. “OK,” Plaq thought, “so I can grab it; if I don’t find some kind of weak-spot soon, I’m toast no matter what.”
Justin
I never expected to be the one to save the planet.
HootBoy saw the danger coming with his eyes like an owl. A meteor heading to Earth. Some characteristic hid it from radar.
The Arm Wrestler strong armed the meteorite into gently resting in South Africa. It started in Morocco, and finally stopped in Mozambique.
When the rock broke open and an attack squad of alien adolescent girls swarmed out, that’s when I had my moment to shine.
With my power to project mucus like water from a fire hose, I just grossed them out until they all fell unconscious.
Anima
Shivering violently, John weakly raises his head off the pillow.
His nose is running, a marathon apparently, by the accumulation of used tissues by the sofa. Mucus is crusted around his nares.
“Honey”, he rasps, “I think I’m getting sicker. Can you check my temp again?”
This is his umpteenth request in 90 minutes. Of course he’s got a fever. It’s the flu….
“In a few, babe, I need to check on the livestock…”
“Hurry…”
“Where do you think you’re gonna stick THAT?” he croaks , eyeing the horse thermometer, eyes wide as an owl’s.
Norval Joe
One night, I’m ready to close the shop, the door creaks open and someone enters. I don’t see anyone and wonder if I’m under a spell.
When I here a wet snuffling, I stand and look over the counter to see a small creature peering up at me. It’s big round eyes like an owls. It rubbed its nose with the back of a scrawny arm and smeared mucus around its face.
It held out its boney hand, and said, “these dice don’t work.”
“They don’t work,” I asked? “Maybe you rolled them wrong.”
Man, little kids shouldn’t play D&D.”
Planet Z
The planet looked like a gigantic glob of glowing green mucous.
We built a robot to send down.
It looked human, but had eyes like an owl and wide feet to keep it upright.
They sent it down via a remote-controlled dropship.
Five hours later, the planet changed from green to red.
The dropship was coming back up on its own.
Nobody was piloting it. And it wasn’t responding to remote helm signals.
We rose three kilometers from deployment and docking altitude.
The dropship stopped. And exploded.
The planet turned green again.
We tagged the planet “unfriendly” and left.