The Menorah

639161

“The sun’s almost down.”
“That’s nice. Where’s the cat?”
“He’s outside. It’s time to light the menorah.”
“Where’s the candles?”
“I’m using an oil menorah this year.”
“An oil menorah?”
“Yes. Uses olive oil. More authentic than candles.”
“What?”
“More authentic.”
“You’re gonna burn the fucking place down.”
“No I won’t.”
“Yes you will.”
“We’ve got a smoke detector this year.”
“Test it recently?”
“Um… no… errr…”
“Well, isn’t that a hoot?”
“You put the battery in the TV remote.”
“I did not.”
“Yes you did.”
“No I didn’t. I put it in the Blu-Ray remote.”
“What?”
“You’re a moron.”

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln #97

658311

A crowd stood around the body of Lincoln, which was all the more crowded because of the small confines of the boarding house.
People were gathering up blood-souvenirs, anything the president had bled upon.
“He bled on the sheet!”
“He bled on the pillow!”
“He bled on the lantern!”
The room filled. The walls began to buckle. Elbows banged against the windowpane.
“Everyone out!” shouted the boarding house’s owner, shaking a fire-iron. “Now!”
All the people filed out of the room and on to the street.
Mary Todd looked around at the completely empty room.
“Where’s my husband?” she asked.

Weekly Challenge #139 – Oh, the horror!

11570333

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Thirty-Ninewhere 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 Oh, the horror!.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #139?
Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com/
Norval Joe from http://www.novalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
Mike P. from http://mjpaxton.com/
Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogpspot.com/
Cenedra from http://censtwocents.blogspot.com/
Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
Brad Z. from http://mutecow.net/
Ashley
Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
Guy from http://www.guydavid.com/
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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


Caleb

Mrs. Claus had had just about enough of Santa’s priceless collection of Victorian erotica. She didn’t mind him spicing things up a bit now and then; after over 200 years of marriage who wouldn’t? His not having time for her from October through most of January left her ready to submit to almost any perversion. Sure, she could dabble with the occasional elf or two but it wasn’t the same as having that big belly slapping her ass like a bowl full of jelly. So when she caught him ‘reading’ the story of O she shredded it. “O? The horror!”

Norval Joe

Lori checked her lipstick in the mirror of the hotel bathroom. Her 25th reunion was going to be a hit.
She wasn’t obese in high school, but she was chubby enough to make her color guard uniform stretch past the point of flattering. Oh, the horrors she faced in high school.
A Phd in partical physics, a strict diet and lots of exercise had transformed her into a svelt, but extremely intelligent, seductress.
She walked into the banquet room to the astonished smiles of her former classmates. Her form-fitting silk dress was tucked neatly into the back of her panyhose.

Mike P.

I met Mr. Roosevelt in Cuba. He took me to New York and the White House as friend and advisor, and then to Africa as a hunting companion.
It was in Mombasa that we heard the natives speaking of “zombeys.” A shaman told us of an undiscovered island, far to the east, that was home to these creatures. Maps were sketched out, and we sighted the place within five days.
Three days later, we returned from a fruitless excursion to find a lifeless crowd shambling about the camp.
“Oh,” I said.
Mr. Roosevelt nodded, loading a shotgun. “There’s the horror.”

Justin

It all started when Elmo wound up in the hospital.
“I was in an alley on my way to talk to Oscar in his new can when I was attacked by something round!”
Next, the Cookie Monster was mugged outside his home.
“It stole my cookies!”
The crime rate was on the rise.
“Three mugging, ah ah ah. Four muggings, ah ah ah.”
Police detectives soon found that these crimes happened on days brought by the letter O. Kermit had this comment:
“The horror of it all was that “O” had always been so polite. We never would have suspected.”

Jeff

“Ice Fishing? You brought me ice fishing?”
“Yes, well you said you wanted to get away from it all.”
“Yeah, but I meant I wanted a vacation.”
“But dear, this is a vacation. We’re out in the wilderness, enjoying all that mother nature had to offer.”
“If this is all she has to offer, I want my money back.”
“Dear, that is the wonder of this vacation it was nearly free, and in a bad economy, it is perfect.”
“Great I am stuck out here, with Charles Swab. Why can’t you do anything right for a change?”
“Oh the horror.”

Cenedra

I watched in horror as he handled the flesh of a dead animal as though it was an everyday occurrence. My eyes fixated on the bright red fluid dripping onto the table.
My mind wanted to scream, but there were no words. My eyes followed yet another red drop as it fell, almost in slow motion, and splattered below him. Plop.
The disgust must have shown on my face because he paused and scowled at me “What’s the matter with you?”
“I can’t believe you put ketchup on your hot dog.” I said and licked mustard off my bottom lip.

Anima

What is wrong with people?
Can’t they take a hint? There are No Trespassing signs… A girl scout hung in effigy….
Satyr lawn ornaments dancing around a pentagram torched in the grass…
What’s it take to be left in peace?
Oh the horror, they are traipsing up my drive, thru the allée made of impaled real estate agents and vacuum cleaner salesmen. They’ve passed my menacing hellhound…
Who are they? A pox on these doorknockers I say!
Yes…?
Ma’mm, we’ve come to nominate your gingerbread house to the historical society…
Oh… Well then, my dearies, won’t you please come in?

Brad Z

Slowly, mother nature is spreading terror across the nation. State by state, the weather reporters track it’s progress. Unable to stop it they speak of the horrors of the ice fog that is coming. City by city it spreads closer. The local weather reporters warn of the dangers to follow in the morning before I click the TV off and fall asleep. In the morning, the closings scroll across the bottom of the screen. Wiping sleep from my eyes I look to see if today will be a snow day. Oh, the horror, everyone gets to stay home but me!

Ashley

Charles’ life was great. He had a dream job, a marriage of twelve years to a content wife and four amazing children.
There was even time for other women.
Charles whistled as he added more lewdness to an already quite lewd email and hit send. An automated reply quickly popped up.
He abruptly noticed the name of the reply and froze. It was his wife’s work account. Somehow, he’d sent the email to the wrong address.
As Charles sat in shock at his computer, a favorite phrase of his mother’s came to him, “Son, if you play you pay.”

Tom

“Spiritus Mundi” screamed Klatu.
Gort shrugs his shoulders.
“It is the gyre of this stony sleep we must dispel” railed Klatu.
“The falcon can not hear the falconer.”
Lacking all conviction Gort move its slow thighs.
“Wait surely some revelation is at hand!”
“The worst are full of passionate intensity.”
About Klatu the tiny metal bugs chewed.
“Things fall apart” stated the robot
a gaze blank and pitiless as the sun.
“Klatu, the center cannot hold.”
He grabbed Gort whispering
“Gort Klaatu barada nikto”
The beast knew
its hour come round at last,
Slouched towards Bethlehem
to settle a score

Guy David

It was laundry day. Harry memorized the instructions ahead of time. He just knew he would be able to operate the washing machine with ease this time. Margaret watched him like a vulture. He shivered. One mistake and he is toast. He put the clothes in the machine, turned the knobs, pushed the button and watched as they started spinning. There was nothing to do but wait now.
Later, when the cycle was finished, he took out the clothes under Margaret’s watching eyes, intending to hang them on the laundry line but… Oh, the horror! – they all turned out green.

Planet Z

O, the horror.
The studio is unhappy with my latest picture, so they want me to appear in a fundraiser for childrens’ diseases.
I asked which disease was it for – I’m a great fan of any disease or form of death, really.
Can we raise money to give away guillotines for tots? Or how about high-powered explosive candies?
Guns. Kids love guns. And they’re very dangerous when put in the hands of a child.
The studio was mortified. They’re sending some singer in my place – Michael Jackson or something.
They’ll have a great time with him, I’m sure.

Silent Night

638692

Santa got stuck in my chimney.
He’s yelling for help.
I called the sheriff.
He told me to lay off the egg nog.
That’s how life goes in a small town sometimes.
It’s a nice place, though. Quiet and peaceful.
Until some old fat guy gets stuck in your chimney.
I turned on a flashlight and looked up.
Two black boots. Gigantic red ass.
“What am I getting this year?” I asked.
“A lump of coal if you don’t get me out of here,” he yelled.
Fuck him. Mr. Santa Fatty can wait.
I turned up my headphones.
Silent night.

Grooves

639171

Old man, asleep at the bar.
He’s never said a word in three years.
Nobody knows who he is or what his story is.
Let’s take him to the jukebox.
You can hear sounds of ancient times by running the needle along ridges in pottery.
It’s from when vibrations got embedded in them as they turned on the pottery wheel.
This old man’s got lots of wrinkles, so we put him in the jukebox.
He is instantly electrocuted.
When the smoke clears, we prop him back up at the bar.
To tell you the truth, he smells kinda better now.

The Trojans

639175

The plan is brilliant.
We are French, after all.
We shipped the statue in pieces for assembly in the harbor.
The torso of the statue was large enough to hold 500 soldiers. Our weapons are in the torch.
Vive la France, New Paris!
In the middle of the night, we are to crawl out the door and begin the invasion.
“Where’s the door?” I, the commander, asks.
We tapped out a message of surrender to a confused workcrew on the outside.
Ransom is such a dirty word. The diplomats will smooth it over with a gift of wine and cheese.

Forty Acres

639161

My name be Rufus Washington Cleveland and I be 173 years old today.
What’s this here place called? Time Square?
Well, I calls it mine.
I been waitin over a century for my forty acres and a mule, and I’m takin these here forty acres.
Lincoln himself promised em to me. Said “You get forty acres and a mule, Rufus.”
When I axed him which forty I get, he just said “Just go take ’em.”
Gonna be a shame to tear these here buildins down, but this here is mah land, and I wanna get to plantin in the spring.

Butterflies

639161

What am I eating?
Butterflies.
Ever eaten butterflies? No?
Oh, they’re delicious.
I can’t decide if they taste better dipped in chocolate or hot sauce.
How do I cook them?
I don’t. I eat them raw.
Their wings melt with any kind of heat.
That’s okay – lots of things taste better raw, like peapods and carrots.
Okay, so they taste like crunchy fluff, but they hold the chocolate pretty well.
And hot sauce, too.
Hold it by the legs and stick the wings in the dip, then pop it in your mouth.
How did it taste? Delicious?
Told ya so.

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln #96

784481

All but one of the doctors packed up and left.
“He can still be saved,” said the last doctor.
“He’s dead,” said Robert. “There’s no way to cure death.”
“Is there?” asked the doctor.
He opened his case and pulled out an array of odd crystals, setting them around the dead president.
Who remained dead.
“Sorry,” said the doctor. He gathered up his crystals and left.
Robert shrugged. “Dad always said: ‘The only person who is a worse liar than a faith healer is his patient.'”
“Fine by me,” said Mary Todd. “As long as we don’t pay his bill.”

Weekly Challenge #138 – A Flashing Red Light

12234888

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One 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 A Flashing Red Light.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #138?
Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
Mike P.
Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com/
Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com
Brad Z from http://mutecow.net
Byz from http://eatonbennett.blogspot.com/
Ashley
Almo
Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
Jeff Hite from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
Norval Joe from http://www.novalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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


Anima

There. Mari put a last wrap of electrical tape on the splice and flipped on the main breaker.
Jeff was the perfect prince on their first date, bringing her flowers and complimenting her haircut. Their second date was also good, but it went downhill after that. First it was going Dutch to the basketball game; now, Jeff was your typical boy leech.
Last week, he said he wanted to date others.
What a relief! thought Mari.
Could she make sure no one else would be fooled by Jeff’s charms?
The flashing red light on his porch should be warning enough…

Tom

The flashing red lights reflected off the splitter windshield. He hit the speed dial to Tom. The persistent answered machine pulsed out on income call screened till later. Tom’s attention was drawn to the flash red light on the coffeemaker. “Where the Hell was Jim?” he opening the door to catch a glimpse of red trail lights. Rain pounded down on the porch, but Gloria’s jet rose above the storm. A strobing red light barely visible to both Jim and Tom trail off into the north. Her thoughts were of them, but the flash red oxygen light drove them off.

Mike P

Beep. Beep. Beep.
Andy sat in the dark, eyes fixed on the answering machine by the door. The flashing red light ticked away, like a hospital monitor counting down to the death of his heart.
One new message. One new message. One new message.
Andy knew what it would say. Harriet had also sent an email, a registered letter, and a singing telegram. Every time the message was the same.
“Got the job, moving to Portland. It was fun while it lasted.”
As long as he didn’t listen to the message, Andy could pretend it hadn’t happened.
Beep. Beep. Beep.

Guy David

My son rejoiced in his new computer screen. That was exactly what he wanted for his 12th birthday. Maple Story never looked better on his screen. He continued with his game play, face intent with concentration, commenting on his intricate game strategies from time to time. I listened, savoring his young wisdom. Much later, when I finally convinced him to shut down his computer and go to sleep, I noticed the power button was flashing a small red light, and I knew my son would surf the virtual worlds of tomorrow, where he would spend the rest of his life.

Caleb

There’s a flashing red light
That blinks through the night
Illuminating my whole house
Is it a neon sign?
Have I lost my mind
An overturned laser jet mouse?
Maybe it’s a cyborg
A wants me to die borg
Assassinated by some robotic louse
Maybe it’s a fairy
All crinkly and hairy
And wearing a gossamer blouse
There’s a flashing red light
That blinks through the night
Illuminating my whole head
Maybe it’s the end
I’ve gone round the bend
It’s a light to tell me that I’m dead
Hey Shakespeare! Wake up! You passed out on your blackberry again!

Brad Z

As I neared the village destruction upon the lands increased. The villagers had contacted me to save them but it appears that I arrived to late. Ruins filled what was once a peaceful community. In the distance, behind the village, stood the black mountain, home of the black sorcerer and his evil hordes. A mighty howl came from the pair of hellhounds galloping at my side followed by the roar of the giant tiger that ran with them. Battle would begin soon.
The flashing red lights filled my vision as I rolled over.
“Crap, the power went off last night.”

Byz

Christmas was too close! Loneliness, the only prospect on the horizon,
made the confines of his room all the more unbearable.
How long had it been since he’d slept without dreaming, getting lost in
nightmares as old as himself?
His companion, a flashing red light outside his bedroom
window, blinked solidly through the night. Never deserting him for
someone more handsome or with more money. Not like Charlene had.
He wondered how she was. Maybe she was still living and the other guy
hadn’t got sick of her and bumped her off. Maybe she’d gotten lucky even
if he hadn’t.

Ashley

The Perp said, “I’m innocent.”
“Sure,” replied Officer Jenkins. “You flashed ladies wearing only a red blinking light over your crotch yelling eat me I’m wholesome?”
“Not flashed, blinked. I wore a light.”
“Let’s just say the arrest was in the spirit of the law, okay.”
Later at the cell, Jenkins announced, “be sure to show them why you’re here.” Several of the occupants turned, obviously interested.
“You really aren’t going to leave me here, are you?” asked the Perp.
“Absolutely not,” said Jenkins closing the door and heading towards the stairs, “and to all a good night.”

Almo

The ’72 Impala left a plume of dust as it came over the hill toward home. It was an incredible panorama. If you weren’t from there. If you didn’t grow up wishing you could see Wal-Mart instead of sagebrush.
The town was one intersection. Big enough for a post office, a barking dog, a closed restaurant and his house.
He enjoyed telling people where he was from.
“Nowhere,” he’d say. “Nowhere, Colorado.”
That was the best part.
He stopped at the intersection. There was a traffic signal.
“A flashing red light?” he thought. “Progress.”
He couldn’t see another car.

Justin

The console lit up; a blinking red light. God knew it was coming, it was inevitable. While free will was better, it was messy. The tree stood in the middle of Eden, Adam and Eve forbidden to eat of it. They did, though. It was time to go down and see them. Things were about to change forever. At least He had known it was coming. His other idea was to put a red button that would blow up the planet. Unlike the forbidden fruit, a red button would have been pressed far sooner with no tempter required at all.

Jeff Hite

“Hey, what is that?”
“What’s what?”
“That flashy thing over there?”
“You you mean the flashing red light?”
“Yeah that’s the one.”
“Oh that’s usually really bad?”
“Bad? What do you mean bad?”
“Yeah it usually means the engine is about to flame out and we are going to start falling like a stone.”
“Oh yeah? So what does it mean now?”
“Hmm let me see. Oh yeah, that the engine is about to flame out and that we are going to start falling like a stone.”
“Oh ok.”
“Engine flame out… loss of forward momentum…prepare for crash landing.”
“Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!”

Norval Joe

Higgs Boson aimed his galactic cruiser at the cosmic microwave background.
His new blink-drive harnessed the power of nuclear fusion to slip him through the fabric of the space-time continuum.
The reactor thrummed with energy and the ship disappeared. Like a rock skipped across a pond it winked in and out of existence along the programmed trajectory.
Eventually, the energy dissipated enough for the ship to wink in and coast at sub light speed, while the engine primed for its next ignition.
As he began the ignition sequence, a flashing red light warned, his mission was coming to an end.

Planet Z

I am the Clerk of the Court, as my father was and his fathers before him.
I tend the Justice Machine, the final thread holding civilization together, surviving the Apocalypse left to us from our disagreeable ancestors.
The defendant, the witnesses, and the sheriff give their testimony before the altar.
I then push the button, and we watch the light.
Will it turn green or remain red?
I know the answer. It will be red.
It is always red. It will always be red.
There is no Justice in the world.
There never has been. And there never will be.