Weekly Challenge #363 – Carrot

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

This is 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 CARROT:

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

The next 100 word stories weekly challenge is on the topic of Yes.

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:

Schrödinger's Grumpy Cat


THOMAS

She offered him a carrot. Believing a little extra incentive would help Webster try harder and do better on his schoolwork. Miss Tisdale made him an offer. If he did his homework every day for a month, she would give Webster full access to her large collection of French postcards, after school. Webster kept up his end of the deal, but Miss Tisdale reneged, realizing that contributing to the delinquency of a minor was far more than what she was willing to do. In spite of the offer, Webster realized he was capable, so he continued to do exemplary work.

#

Her new ring was three carrots. She was beautiful, but didn’t know how to spell. Eleanor bragged to all her girlfriends and her family. The diamond was flawless, but Eleanor was not. She was as dense as a post, but her fiancé ignored it, as she was tall, slim, and busty. Her fiancé, Carrot Top, was a well-known, prop comedian, almost as pretty as Eleanor after all his cosmetic surgery. Both of them were red-headed, and to add to the horror, zealous exhibitionists. Carrot Top used Eleanor as one of his props when playing the smaller rooms in Las Vegas.

#

Carrots are a staple at our table. We have carrots every time we eat supper. Dad was so proud of his garden, he planted several extra rows of carrots, so we harvested bushels. Mom serves the magnificent root: mashed, steamed, grilled, poached, caramelized, braised, boiled, baked into carrot cake, and served raw and peeled. After a month of eating so many carrots, the whole family took on an orange tinge – much like the woman at the market that got spray tans on a regular basis. We looked like players on Jersey Shore, or a half carton of brown eggs, extra-large.

JEFFREY

The State of Education
by Jeffrey Fischer

The Easter Bunny chomped on a carrot, the tension fading from his shoulders. Another Easter come and gone, his work done. He relaxed.

A fat man in glasses with an angry expression on his face walked to the Easter Bunny, perspiring slightly. A camera crew filmed his every move. “What right do you have, coming around to people’s houses and spreading your unwanted religious filth?” the man said, an insane look in his eyes.

The Easter Bunny finished chewing his carrot and swallowed. “Michael Moore, you ignoramus, I’m a candy-dispensing rabbit. Only an idiot like you would think I have any religious connotations.” He chose another carrot from the pile and nibbled at it.

Shiny Object
by Jeffrey Fischer

“They’re best when they’re long and hard,” Stan said to his fiance, Carla. They sat in the cafe next to the jewelry store.

“What are you talking about? Hard, sure, but long? They’re best when they’re big,” Carla replied.

“Well, sure, big is good, but size isn’t everything. In fact, too big and they just hurt your mouth.”

Carla looked at Stan quizzically. “Are you daft? I would never put it in my mouth. And yes, you guys say it all the time, size isn’t everything, but let me tell you, from a girl’s perspective, you’re wrong. Bigger is better.”

Stan bit off another bite of carrot. “We *are* talking about this vegetable, aren’t we?”

“Carrots?” Carla said. “No, silly, we were discussing my engagement ring. Half a carat isn’t going to cut it.”

STEVEN

“Now son, never go near that there tool shed now.” My da tells me
every time I go out to play.
“I won’t.” I would reply.
As I became more matured and my curiosity grew I had a problem
of always sneaking about…and eating all the carrots meant for soup.
I went to the shed and carefully picked the lock and went inside
the shed. It was dark and smelled of wet dog and rotten flesh. I stood
there and waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Moments later
I could see clearly. There was a man chained to the ground. And there
were bones to many different creatures.

CLIFF

Good. You’re awake. Let’s get started. You have access codes to information that your government doesn’t want to share. I want those codes. No, you don’t know me. You do know my partner though. The tall redhead you’ve been drooling after for the past few weeks? Yes, that’s her. She was supposed to get close to you, flirt with you, lead you on until she could find the codes in your apartment but you didn’t have them there, did you? Who am I? Well, let’s just say that if she’s the carrot, I’m the stick. Now then, shall we begin?

RICHARD

#1 – Uncle John

The high point of the village fete is always the misshapen vegetable competition, which is invariably won by a carrot shaped amusingly in the form of genitalia.

It’s a family joke that Uncle John, despite his best efforts to contort, twist and meddle with the produce he grows, has never managed to come up with a winning entry.

So, it was a bit of a shock to find he’d won first prize this year.

“Although, it wasn’t my vegetables that impressed the judges”, he explained to us, dropping his trousers to reveal his prize-winning, and impressive, carrot-shaped genitals!

#2 – Promotion

When you get to a million carrots, they give you a certificate and a feature in the company magazine – it’s not worth anything, but you’ve got to have some incentive in this job.

There’s an art to packing carrots: six to a packet, twelve packets to a box, fifty boxes a day, with the promise of that certificate and fame after just a year of packing.

Ten million carrots gets you a promotion.

Ten years on the job and I’ve finally reached the magic number!
Another certificate and a brand new career – tomorrow: my first day on the parsnip line!

#3 – Provisions

George’s search of the eerily empty infirmary rewarded him with overalls and a large holdall from a cleaning cupboard; eventually he found the hospital kitchens.

Acutely aware that fresh food of any kind would be in short supply, he filled his pockets and bag with as much as he could carry – handfuls of carrots; long-lasting, full of nutrients and easily digested raw, would be his staple food, at least for now.

Grabbing a tin-opener and a good selection of kitchen knives, George settled down to what was likely to be his last decent meal for quite some time.

MUNSI

The Appropriate Level of Seriousness With Which to Approach Dessert.

By Chris Munroe

Through the window he crashed, in a shower of glass.

He’d have been surprised, had he not been distracted by pain, both from the sudden roundhouse kick and equally sudden laceration of his face and arms from his quick, brutal journey into the street.

But I wasn’t done. I climbed through the now-empty window-frame, kicked him in the ribs, grabbed him by his hair and turned him around, to look him in the eye…

“Carrot cake,” I said, “isn’t real cake. It never will be. Also: I’m ready for the check, whenever you get the chance to print it up…”

BOTGIRL

Carrot as Stick

My maternal grandmother lived into her eighties, her last months bed-bound in a nursing home. Up until the end, she cared about her appearance and insisted she have her hair and makeup done. I couldn’t imagine what comfort she found in the mirror’s reflection of sparse hair and time-eroded skin and features.

Almost twenty years later, the image I see in my own mirror appears decades younger than the person who looks back from a photo of myself snapped moments before.

The permanent self is an illusion. It feels like I’m killing time, but time is killing me.

TURA

I was six when I first helped with the harvest, pulling carrots. My father showed me how to grab the top, jerk it north, south, east, and west, with the whole weight of my little body, then up, ripping it free.

I had never thought about food before, but seeing that first carrot I realised– food is living things! Life cannibalising life! Even the carrot preyed on the helpless earth, thrusting its roots in to suck out nourishment.

I grew up. I studied biology, and this became my research: how to destroy all life. Only then will the horror end.

TOM

No Good Deed is Left Unpunished

The doctor flipped the eyepiece away. “Son you’re going to need glasses.” He scribed out a prescription, handed to me, said, “Eating carrots should improve your eyesight.” I took his sage words to heart ate a mountain of carrots. Didn’t really care for the tastes so I started grafting carrots onto potatoes, pumpkin and apples. The Carrot-Cherry was so popular I was able to start gene splicing carrots into frogs and pigs. The Carrot-Cow was the height of my life’s work. People’s sight improved; unfortunately Carrot-Cows developed a condition called Sad Cow’s Disease. Before people went insane, they went blind.

SERENDIPITY

When you get to a million carrots, they give you a certificate and a feature in the company magazine – it’s not worth anything, but you’ve got to have some incentive in this job.

There’s an art to packing carrots: six to a packet, twelve packets to a box, fifty boxes a day, with the promise of that certificate and fame after just a year of packing.

Ten million carrots gets you a promotion.

Ten years on the job and I’ve finally reached the magic number!

Another certificate and a brand new career – tomorrow: my first day on the parsnip line!

ZACKMANN

“Say kids let’s make some carrot cake.”

“Sure, I’ll grab the box.”

“No, it doesn’t taste very good from a box. Carrot cake needs to be made from scratch.”

“Father, why are these carrots yellow?”

“Those are heirloom carrots people grew yellow first. Now stop pretending they are dagars. It’s all fun and games until someone loses an eye.”

“Some of these older carrots look bad.”
“No worries someone on Y!A told me about making finger puppets out of carrots with mushy bottoms. Now put shredder blade in food processor , I hate loosing my skin to a hand shredder.”

LIZZIE

Of Carrots and a Mayor

The Carnival Tunnel was inaugurated by the Mayor, a competitive man who was the heart of the town. The Tunnel became a giant success, until he decided to increase the speed of the carts to compete with the opening of the Carrot Museum in the neighboring town. The result was appalling, several died, and a handful seriously injured. The Tunnel was closed immediately, the Mayor fired. The last people heard of him, he was chewing on a carrot, wearing a carrot top hat, wandering about, muttering “I’m a carrot, I’m a carrot. Hi-ho, hi-ho, to the Carrot Museum I go.”

DAPHNE

My younger brother would leave out cookies and milk for Santa and a carrot for Rudolph. One year my brother insisted we leave out 9 carrots so the other reindeer didn’t feel left out. Santa left a thank you note and some Star Wars Lego figures. The next year he left carrots and hummus. Santa left a Lego X-wing. Last year he left a crudite platter and Santa left a Lego Millenium Falcon. This year I found him cutting vegetables into decorative shapes and flowers. I asked him what he was doing, he said he wanted a Death Star. I don’t know what he’s going to do next year.

MIATA

I remember mama told me to eat all my carrots, or sit at the table for the rest of the afternoon. Looking out the window, viewing the green grass, and the countless colors from flowers, I decided to taste just one carrot cube. I was convinced that these were not real carrots. Carrots should be orange cylinder shapes with fuzzy bright green leaves on the end. At least, that was what Bugs Bunny ate. So, I picked up the fork, and raked them into my milk. I heard mama say, “Be sure and drink all your milk, too!”
Bummer!

REDGODDESS

There is a new fool-proof diet advertised every 10 minutes. “I wish I was exaggerating,” Lola thought. She sees the grocery aisle stocked with a rainbow of pills, powders and liquids. Each one has the secret to quick and natural weight loss. One even promises a bonus, glowing skin after use in 7 days or your money back. A lot of the hotel guests, who are the most body conscious, weigh as much as an adolescent. Nina, a social 20-something law clerk, always complaining, she’s fat. She’s a size 2 and cleansed on carrot juice daily. Until her body hating rants, Lola perceived her as the ideal triple threat: sassy, strong and street-smart. Guess real beauty is a myth.

JUSTIN

Old MacDonald had a SimFarm, and he grew many crops, including carrots, which he planted for some arbitrary reason. After he did that, he bought a plot of land right next to the bustling city with taxis like beetles and big grey walls. Then he put cows on that plot of land. Finally, he removed the fencing that was adjacent to the city. This allowed the cows to roam into the streets. When they got hit by cars, they would get squished flat and run around like black and white pancakes. Old Farmer MacDonald was amused and reloaded his game.

DANNY

I recently helped a distressed woman from my past distraught over a song from the movie, Juno. My response. “You mean your faced with an unplanned pregnancy, and being the offbeat young woman you are, your making an unusual decision regarding her unborn child? Damn, your life is more complicated than I can imagine. Oh, and in less than 2 hours, I’m supposed to come up with a 100 word story about the word “Carrot,” and I have writers block. The best I can come up with is a story about a donkey named “Meatloaf Flying Spaceship.” Isn’t there carrots in Meatloaf?

NORVAL JOE

“You’re saying this stuff is safe to eat? If not, there will be intergalactic repercussions,” Borle griped from his jail cell. His bright orange prison suit made him look like a giant tuberous vegetable. While the food on his plate was supposed to be carrots, but lacked the neon green color he was used to.
The guard grunted, but startled when the hallway door suddenly opened.
Flerdy walked in wearing a five piece business suit, looking for like a lawyer and waving release papers.
“What took you so long?” Borle asked.
“It was a long walk. You had the keys.”

Dergle thrashed fitfully where he’d fallen asleep on the living room couch.
Again, pounding on the front door woke him. He’d barely gotten to his feet when the door slammed open, splinters of wood flying and the doorknob dropping to the floor.
Widow Finklestien stood on the front porch holding a large cardboard box. She dropped it to the floor and snarled, “Here. You can deal with them.”
She stomped away.
Peeking into the box, Dergle saw six black, white, and tan carrots, the size of his shoes, wriggling and mewling.
Dergle woke on the couch in a cold sweat.

SINGH

1.
The man attached a pole to his cart and a tinfoil star to its end. He dangled it in front of his nose and then set off from the city. Dog, Cat and Duck came along for the ride. After three days in the desert Duck was getting worried. “Alright guys, where are we going?
“Relax,” said Cat, “Enjoy the scenery.” There was only red sand, although sometimes skulls and bones.
Finally Dog broke the silence.“We’re following the star, the shining tinfoil star.”
“Oh really?” said the doubting Duck.
The man just pulled the cart of three alone in silence.

2.
When they reached the Craggy Mountains, they saw twin peaks. Duck grabbed his binoculars: “Look! Mountain climbers!”
“Show me,” said Cat. Just as one ice-picked his way to his summit, a shaft of light hit the crag like a sign from the heavens.
Dog took the binoculars to check the other climber’s progress, Seeing the wondrous light, the second climber’s face said “Oh, no!” He was on the wrong peak.
“Poor bastard,” Dog chuckled. “Waste of a perfectly good mountain.”
Oblivious, the man kept following his star. It dangled in front of his bulbous nose like a donkey’s carrot.

3.
Down the other side of the mountains the man stopped beside deep water. Dog, Cat and Duck got down to stretch. The man wandered off while Dog snuffled, Cat stalked, and Duck took a dip in the gorge. The man hadn’t returned, so they set out to look for him. He was in a cave, staring at rock paintings of men with spears being hunted by giant kangaroos. They joined the man like a family back in their living room, eyes glued to the television. ?“Psst! What’s on?” Duck joked.
“Shush!” said Dog. “Sit on your stone,” pointed Cat. “It’s Prehistoric Planet.”

4.
As the man followed his guiding star through the desert, Dog, Cat and Duck sometimes saw disturbing sights. Around a waterhole, they noted all the trees were bare with their leaves turned weirdly white on the ground. Getting up close they realised the leaves were bodies of sulphur-crested white cockatoos. The man stopped to look and observed three minutes of silence. After. no one was confident about drinking the water which had a radioactive glow. So they moved on. Upset, the three glued sad eyes to the guiding tinfoil star. They were glad now of the man, their only family.

5.
As the cart creaked on following the star, a sandstorm appeared.
“Looks bad”, said Dog to Cat who nodded agreement.
“Are you kidding?” Duck said in a flap. “We’re all gonna die!”
Taking emergency action, the man put the star in his pocket. Turning the cart on it side, he lit a candle in its grotto and settled in. They did too.
For three days the storm raged. They were down to their last candle. Then the storm stopped.
“Hallelujah!” Said Duck.
The man just righted the cart, re-fixed the pole star and they set off again.

6.
Dog, Cat and Duck were city slickers. They had been on daylight savings time too long. Tired of schedules it sneaked away into the dunes. Now there only burning days and the Milk Way nights. The man snored lightly as the wind rattled through the grass tree clumps keeping all three awake.
Each day they seemed to recognise places where they had passed, yet they weren’t conscious of shifting direction. Was the man’s cart wheeling in circles? Finally after traversing great tracts, crossing mountains, swimming gorges, they saw the most beautiful sight of their long journey. They had come home.

7.
Yes, they’d returned to the city.
“Heck! We just did a big loop,” Duck stated.
“Depends,” said Cat, “On how you view it.”
Cars were bumping toward Smog City.
When the man reached the freeway ramp he had a choice: to go straight ahead or follow the detour sign which said:This Way to Truth and Beauty. It was pointing to a hole cut in the ramp like a circle cut in a river of ice. Through it, the night sky glinted with stars.
“Uh-oh!” said Duck, “Here we go again.”
And the man tugged the cart headlong into the universe.

PLANET Z

We live far enough North that there’s usually snow on the ground when it’s time for Easter.

Which makes it really hard to keep the snowman’s nose from getting swiped by that Easter Bunny son of a bitch.

Sure, we come out ahead in the deal, getting a basket full of candy and colored eggs for a rotten frozen carrot, but it’s the principle of the deal.

Today, he steals a carrot. Maybe tomorrow he steals a car.

So, I cored out the carrot and put in rat poison.

(I hope he doesn’t do the same with our Easter eggs.)

6 thoughts on “Weekly Challenge #363 – Carrot”

  1. Happy Birthday Tom! There! Someone is listening
    Great story btw – sad cows disease lol..

    Also I particularly like the parsnip line. I used to work on the corn and bean lines myself.

    Well, I think these all should come our in audio anthology for kids who ate their vegetables (cross-marketed in the grocery section and called Carrotopia. Nice idea Serindipty. Cheers. Singh

    1. The carrot/parsnip line story by Richard, of course. You were made to write for this podcast. Well done again.

      So many good nutritious stories this week. Can’t mention them all.

  2. I won’t let me be an awful person stop me from wishing Tom a happy birthday. I must an awful person otherwise why else would be dammed.

  3. Yay, given permission to multi-task while listening to the podcast! (Laundry was part of it – it’s a lot easier to listen to the stories while doing laundry than reading the stories, and fewer bruises, too!)

    I was impressed by the creativity this week, even with a tough topic. Who was the cruel bastard who gave out that topic? I particularly liked Thomas’s third story and Tom’s story.

    (And happy birthday, Tom.)

  4. Happy birthday Tom!*

    *This greeting may not be honest since Laurence coerced us into posting it**

    **But really, Happy Birthday.

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