Weekly Challenge #252 – “Paris” and “Quality Control”

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Fifty-Two, 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 “Paris” and “Quality Control”

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

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Evan

The studio buzzed and the old man tasted electricity in the air. He turned from his canvas to watch a tiny, hovering figure grow rapidly into a full-sized woman in a suit.
“How—?” He began.
“Do as I ask and I’ll tell you,” she smiled. ”You’d undoubtedly appreciate it. Now, I lead Quality Control for the Louvre Museum in Paris where, in 400 years, your painting will draw millions of visitors annually. After studying 250 alternate realities I’ve determined we’ll enjoy maximum traffic if you repaint your subject with a delicate smile—just enough to peak the curiosity of the viewer.”

Tom

Parisians scuff when tourist says “I love Paris” It’s not how Paris works. Paris chooses to love you. She doesn’t do it often and she surely doesn’t do it in public. It happens when it’s just you and her late late in the night or early early in the morning. You have walked for hours and stopped to rest by the Seine. As you watch the river a boy and girl totally entwined pause to kiss. You smile and realize all kisses somehow flow to Paris. At that moment your heart is hers and she will forever draw you back.

2547 Greater New York Dome District. The air here tasted flat. No life. Plenty of oxygen just no life. Quality Control has stated time and time again it’s the same old air as 2210. But I don’t believe them. That’s why I have this can of Paris. Got it from a merchant marine from Vietnam traded him four Ernie Banks rookie cards for a 20oz can. I figure if I do a puff a month it should last until they punch out my ident card. Id let you have a sniff but you’d have to hang around for three weeks.

Zackmann

Once upon a time there was a hotel Mogul who had a daughter he wanted to keep chaste.
He had a friend who owned a robotics company who had a plan to build a Gynoid that would
act very promiscuously so that men would be afraid to date the daughter. The friend had a
replicant constructed. Soon the replicant was in all the tabloids as the daughter quietly attended
a private all girls college. The Gynoind even had a television show and did a movie posing as
the daughter and she gets a systems check when she says something intelligent.

Will I ever get through this long dark night. What was my boss thinking sending me here were
I barely speck the language . It makes it harder to not shoot the live ones, if you know what I
mean. It had to be tonight of all nights that I get a box of 12 gauge shells made the one time
Quality Control was asleep at Remington with one out of four a dud. Just like our beloved
military to send me to DLI to learn French and the send me to Paris, that is Paris Texas during a
zombie out-brake.

Steven

Rupert stood in disbelief.

“The bar’s really called the Blue Oyster? Like in Police Academy? In
the middle of nowhere, Ohio?”

Clarissa smiled. “All YMCA, all the time. Right here in gay Paree, Ohio.”

“That is so offensive.”

She smacked his arm. “They’re mocking the stereotype, silly.”

“But someone might hit on me.”

“Just tell them you’re married, you homophobe. Come on, you’re going
to have fun.”

As they descended the stairs, Rupert knew next time he’d check the
travel agent’s itinerary more closely.

But he found out that after all, there are many ways to have a good time.

Chris

I’ve been working in quality control for three months. It’s been okay except for the rumors of people going missing. Some say this town is haunted. I didn’t believe in superstition. Anyway, I am doing night shift, in a store but an over sized man in a trench coat came in. “Ah you must be my new trainee.” I said. He walked over.

“I am no trainee.”His voice was a deep, growl. “But, I am the Duskwolf.” With that, he pounced, striking me in the head.

My last thought was: the next quality controller better be good.

Terazzabyte

On the eve of the big day, I was going over last minute checks with the wedding planner and noticed a slight Quality Control problem.

Marco, did you get the caterers all lined up for the reception?

Check Boss!

Marco, did you pick up the Wedding Dress form the seamstress?

Yes Boss

Hey Marco! Did you book the Paris Honeymoon package?

Yep!

Marco, did you make sure they will be staying at the private villa with the view of the Eiffel Tower?

I didn’t find any Eiffel Tower in Paris, Texas … but they can see the City Water Tower.

Danny

Paris Hilton woke up one morning in her exclusive California mansion, sat up abruptly, and promptly stated to herself, “You know what is missing in my life? Quality control.” Perplexed, as always, Paris uncrossed her eyes, quickly got dressed, grabbed her purse and the keys to her pink Bentley, and set off to do something about this lack of quality control in her life. After an 8 hour shopping spree on Rodeo Drive, Paris, pleasantly pleased with her clothing and other purchases, finally stated, “there, I purchased a ton of quality, and now I’m in control of it. Problem solved!”

Justin

Janet and I are quality control inspectors for Colony Dome Extranational. We were also husband and wife. We traveled to planets with Colony Dome merchandise, chiefly the domes themselves and the upkeep machines. Generally we stick together because the domes are small. We’ve had some great memories made during those times. New Paris on the other hand is a very large dome so it makes more sense to split up to get the inspection done faster. It’s tough to work apart for such a long time, especially since we’re almost always together. Despite the hardships, we’ll always halve New Paris.

TJ

I record my podcast to a digital voice recorder quietly in my bedroom
and cobble it together on Windows Movie Maker, so it probably seems like
I don’t care about quality. Au contraire. I’ve updated my theme
music three times – one comment on my iTunes page said it was
“weird” two theme musics ago, but no one has said anything since.
Then I load it to libsyn, and for quality control, download it again
through iTunes. I figure if other people are suffering through my
podcast, the least I can do is listen to what I’m putting them through
myself.

The afternoon sun glinted along glass and chrome furnishings in the
elegant office suite. Seated behind her obsidian desk, Paris Ashworth
Greystone took up her iPad. She ran a manicured fingernail along the
menu settings and selected an item at random. Something about snowglobes
being filled from the Fountain of Youth. “Just don’t choke on the
snowman.” She considered it for a moment. Indeed, that would be a
better ending. She tapped a few keys and sent a memo upstairs.
Exhausting, but her service as muse and quality control specialist for
100 Word Stories was, in its own way, rewarding.

Norval Joe

“What do you mean, ‘Quality Control’, Gunter?” Franz asked his partner. “This is the Lexus LFA sports car. There will only be 500 of them and each one will be hand built.”
“Humor me, Franz,” Gunter replied, “the guy paid $375,000 for this thing for his girl friend’s thirtieth birthday. We need to make sure all the special accessories will work.”
“It’s got everything,” Franz said, “GPS, DVD, iPhone dock, microwave and plasma TV. What else is there?”
“Make sure the drunk driver override and the anti-idiot switch are set to on,” Gunter said. “We are talking about Paris Hilton.”

Planet Z

Allo, I am Remy, I am from France.

Zis wine that you give to me, I dink, and is bad. Is no good.

How you say? Disgusting?

Yes. Disgusting.

Is not fit for drink. Is not fit for cooking.

I know this, for I am, how you say, quality control for wine.

I am expert in wine. I drink much, I know wine like I know air I breathe.

I spend all day drinking wine home in Paris.

What you ask? Where do I work?

I work nowhere. I drink wine. So much, nobody hire me.

Besides you, mon frere.