The Units

We shipped thirty units to Chicago.
And twenty units to New York.
Five units are in the stockroom, waiting to be picked up so they can head to Phoenix.
We’re still putting together an order of seven units that will end up in Miami.
I hear we’ve got a lead on a customer who wants ten units in Tokyo.
And then there’s the guy in London who wants three units.
No, I have no idea what these units are. Really.
But we’re sure getting a lot of orders in for them.
So, how many can I put you down for?

The two accounts

I keep two investment accounts at the brokerage.
One is a managed investment account, and the other is an unmanaged investment account.
I challenge myself to pick stocks and funds in the unmanaged account.
And every year, it has outperformed the managed account.
“Why do I bother paying you?” I tell the broker.
That’s when the market went down. Really far down.
All of my picks went into the toilet, and the margins got called in.
The managed account, on the other hand, only took a small dip, and then bounced back with the market.
“That’s why,” said the broker.

Doctor Odd’s Universes

Doctor Odd pondered what it would take to tip society over the precipice and into barbarism and oblivion.
So, he created pocket universes to model society, and he ran a series of scenarios through his simulations.
The collapses were easy: nuclear war, global epidemics, natural disasters, religious fundamentalism.
When Doctor Odd finished his experiments, he found one universe that turned into an enlightened Nirvana of peace.
“WELL DONE!” shouted a voice.
It was the real Doctor Odd, who had made the pocket universe in which his duplicate ran the simulations.
He collapsed the pocket universe and went out for lunch.

The Malls

Back in high school, we’d road-rally around Columbus.
We’d start at Northland Mall, drive to Eastland, Southland, and Westland Malls, and the first one back to Northland won.
To prove that we’d been to each mall, we’d buy a burger at the McDonalds or Wendy’s at each mall and get a receipt.
Once, I cheated by having friends buy burgers at the Eastland and Southland Malls at predetermined times,
while I drove to the Westland Mall, bought my burger, and met up with the others back at Northland to get the receipts.
I lost the cheap plastic trophy years ago.

Doctor Odd’s Cure

Sometimes, it takes a while for a medicine to get federal approval.
So, people sign up for clinical trials.
When the clinical trials are full, the desperate go overseas for medical treatment.
When Doctor Odd came down with a terminal illness he couldn’t cure himself, he got desperate and went to an alternate dimension for medical treatment.
After several hops across the dimensions, Doctor Odd met Shaman Odd, who brewed a magical potion to cure Doctor Odd’s condition.
Doctor Odd brought the potion back with him, studied it carefully in his lab, and patented the cure.
The profits were astronomical.

The Pies

Some Irish bakers add a little to their dough before they make their pies.
If you bite into a ring, marriage is in your future.
But if you bite into the bean, no marriage for you.
The coin represents wealth, while the piece of cloth predicts the lack of it.
Vinny isn’t Irish. He’s Sicilian.
He sent out the pies in special tins.
C4 charges with miniature detanators.
By the time the cops figured out where the pies came from, Vinny was back home.
Baking pies for the family.
No C4. No detanators.
Just blackberries, the freshest he could find.

Weekly Challenge #735 – EMPOWERED

Sentinel

LIZZIE

I found the page of a book in the forest. I read it. It didn’t make much sense. Then, I found another page, and another. I continued down the path and found more pages. I sat down and ordered them. Damn… No page one… I wandered about, trying to find it, until I reached a cabin. Page one was right there. I picked it up and was about to leave when a voice, coming from inside, said “I was expecting you”. I’ve read many pages since, and Old Patrick, the voice, always closes his eyes and smiles while I read.

RICHARD

Empowered

So this is supposed to make me feel empowered, is it?

I looked from the fourteen black plastic bags full of the miscellanea of my past life to the, now bare, walls, shelves and cupboards of my apartment.

Now, was apparently a turning point in my life: The creation of a fresh, blank canvas, upon which I could paint a new destiny.

And all I had to do was take those black plastic bags, full of their memories, heartaches, successes and failures of a life that owed more to mediocrity than to satisfaction, and throw them all away.

Maybe, tomorrow?

SERENDIPIDY

All my life I fought to be heard. I struggled to be noticed, begged to be appreciated – and never once did I succeed.

Pushed down, ignored and scorned, I was told I would never amount to anything, that I lacked presence and was incapable of achieving anything.

For a while I believed them, but today will change all that.

Today, the gun I hold in my hand empowers me.

And, for one brief moment, all the power in the world rests in my index finger.

So, go on… wave to the crowds, Mr President.

And let’s see who’s helpless now!

TOM

100,000 Dead in the Halls of America

I’ve always been suspect when I hear someone say we don’t hand-hold: we empower. It hangs out with terms like, team-player and leadership. It often come out the mouth of someone in the highest level of on org chart. Yup by folk who love org charts. The only way to help someone up is to get down next to them. Hands on the same shovel, hands on the same piece of paper, working the same funkn algebra problem, working any problem from the floor-up. So to all you three ring binder consultants. Empower this and the horse you rode in on.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert didn’t know how to respond. Was this the only reason Linoliamanda liked him, because he could fly? His twelve year old mind tried to put two and two together. Was she just using him for her entertainment and excitement?

Empowered and emboldened by his indignation, he asked, “Is that all you care about? Would you still like me if I couldn’t fly?”

Linoliamanda gasped, there was a moment of silence, and she hung up on him.

This was not the response he had expected. Denial or an argument, maybe. He didn’t think she would just hang up on him.

TURA

Empowered
———
Our corporate mission statement was up for review. “We empower people–”

“Stop right there!” said Eannmbaighe. “Divisive language, ‘us’ against the othered ‘them’. And ‘people’ erases their individuality!”

“How dare you ignore the biggest issue of all?” Empathy answered. “Giving someone power foregrounds your power over them. Empowerment is disempowerment! Power is only taken!”

“Taking power implies you already have power,” I suggested. They both glared at me incredulously and shouted “No!” And “Yes!” simultaneously. Then they turned on each other.

Great! We’d spend all day and decide nothing. That’s the idea, keep the clowns out of the actual business.

PLANET Z

When you’re rich, you can do anything.
Just ask Michael Jackson.
Well, you could ask him, if he were alive.
But he’s not.
Because he made others very rich.
His managers, his brothers and sisters, his mother and father.
And so many executives and lawyers.
They wanted to get richer.
Keep him alive, and he’ll make more music and perform more shows?
And make more… mistakes, is that what his business manager called it?
Lots of royalties and deals coming in.
Don’t want them held up by lawsuits.
Is he having trouble sleeping?
We’d better put him to sleep. Permanently.

Rebel

Every now and then, I watch Warren Zevon’s final appearance on Letterman.
Just to remind me that this doesn’t last.
So, enjoy it while you can.
Even Caesar needed reminding once in a while.
“Caesar, thou art mortal.” whispered a servant into his ear.
The senators reminded him with daggers.
I don’t call this depression.
I call this realism, acceptance.
Sadness or not, there is peace.
A bruise is just life’s way of letting you know someone cared enough about what you say to take a swing at you.
And you cared enough to stand tall and refuse to duck.

The shallow end

I remember when I was five.
I didn’t know how to swim. Or want to learn.
“What if you fall in the water?” they’d ask.
“I drown,” I’d say. “And deserve it for going near water.”
At camp, they had races at the pool.
I won the running across the shallow end race every year.
It became an annual joke. And I laughed the loudest.
The water was only up to my knees.
In my final year, I tripped over one toddler, and hit my head.
Falling, my lungs full of water, resting on the bottom of the goddamned pool.

Kicked in the head

Fred trained horses at the circus.
One day, a horse kicked him in the head.
He woke up in the hospital, unable to speak.
“We’ve tried all we can,” said the doctor. “Sorry.”
Fred was unable to continue as a trainer.
He spent the rest of his days hauling horse feed and sweeping up horse crap.
When he died, his coffin was carried by a horse-drawn carriage.
His coffin fell from the carriage and broke open.
Another horse kicked his corpse’s head.
“Bastard can’t catch a break,” mumbled the ringmaster, as he and the clowns cleaned up the bloody mess.