Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Thirty-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… was…. um…
It’s Potato Peels!
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):
Steven
“We will find a way out of this. I promise.”
She slapped my hand away from her face. “How stupid do you think I
am? There’s only a hundred words in this story. Then we’re gone.
Forever.”
I looked around the sparsely-described kitchen, desperate for a way
out. My gaze landed on the bucket of potato peels Ma had left.
“That’s it!” I kissed Sally.
“What are you doing?”
“Remember when Ma had you peel potatoes? The thin peels would fill up
twice as many baskets, right?” I held the sharp peeler up to the
words. “Let’s get started.”
Tom
I uses to operate the missile systems on a X1 tank Could drop one of those puppies through a NBA hoop no net. So why you might ask am I sitting next to a mountain of potato peels of my own making? In a word: Willie. General Jack Rippers prize Jack Russell Well it use to be his prize Jack Russell. Who’ve guessed that a X1 heat seeking missile could’ve profiled a dog and Frisbee as a Russian with antitank rocket. When I pointed out the we needed an anti-dog over ride is the moment I got my new job.
Zackmann
Peelings, nothing more that peelings
trying to forget those peelings of spuds
Memories of French fries, scallops, and hash browns
she cooked but never shared with me
potatoes cooked by my love.
woe woe woe peelings
in the mulch pile becoming nutrition for the garden I love.
woe woe Peelings like my galley duty never ended
Peeling those spuds
Teardrops like I was cutting onions
because I cut my finger peeling those spuds
feeling like you never cook for me
feeling like I wish you never put me and a low card diet
but made me keep peeling those spuds.
Katwood
I’ve been peeling potatoes for months, years, I don’t know. I lost track long ago. It’s hard to remember a time when I wasn’t peeling. They’re everywhere, the peels. I can’t stand them. I once had a bin for them, but that’s buried somewhere in this mess of peelings. I peel and peel and peel, but there are never any less potatoes, only a growing sea of peels. Am I supposed to drown in them? I don’t know. I do know that I need to get out. The potatoes have to come from somewhere. I just have to find it.
Danny
Potato peels, the best part of the potato. Most full of nutrients, the peel is the only part of the potato that interacts with the soil, absorbing all the nutrients as the potato grows, making it the best tasting part of the potato. Fried, baked, or roasted, the peel is the most discarded part of the potato. A total waste. Ever notice the best mashed potato’s have the peels within it? Please, cherish your potato peals, spare them from the landfills whose space we need for our discarded alkaline batteries.
TJ
When you see potato peelings in the Great Pyramid, you don’t
immediately think, “It worked!” and that the great king Cheops
sprang to life and began peeling potatoes for his feast of the
afterlife. You assume a shepherd sheltered from the heat and grabbed
himself a snack. And in very nearly every other instance you’d be
right. However, when the guide, Denali, encountered a fortunate rat
nibbling on a fresh rind, his attention was drawn away from the bandaged
figure looming behind him … long enough for him to extend a bony
finger and drain him of his life force.
Norval Joe
“We have ways of making you talk,” the criminal mastermind said.
The agent silently sneered back at his captor, and shook his head.
The bald man laughed, “You’re all so brave when we start, but we’ve broken all of your predecessors before you.
“Agent X we soaked in olive oil until the truth slipped out of him. Agent M we buried in potato peels until he begged for mercy. I don’t think you will be so strong,” he said and turned on the TV.
“We have “The Wiggles” on an endless video loop. Call me when you’re ready to talk.”
Planet Z
Thanksgiving is right around the corner, so it’s time to grocery shop.
We both like turkey, gravy, stuffing, and cranberry sauce.
But when it comes to the mashed potatoes, we have our disagreements.
I like to leave the potato peels on when boiling the potatoes.
She doesn’t like the peels.
I like to add rosemary and roasted garlic. Adds a little aroma to the meal.
She doesn’t like them. Just adds butter and milk before blending everything up into the white gloppy mush.
So, instead of arguing, we make two batches of mashed potatoes.
Sadly, both gave us food poisoning.