Weekly Challenge #705 – TOOL

Baby Panther

LIZZIE

“Useless,” said Reggie.
“It’s good for our plans,” said Ronnie.
“The tractor’s rusty.”
“No, look.”
And Ronnie grabbed a rusty wrench.
“And what is that?”
“Reggie, please. I have no clue.”
Reggie sighed.
“You’re so negative. We’ll lift it in the air and everyone will be horrified.”
“I bet they will and we’ll have a concussion too.”
“Ghosts don’t have concussions, silly.”
“Really?”
Reggie grabbed a random part of the tractor and threw it at Ronnie’s head.
Meanwhile, a few meters away, the farmer and his son were watching, amused.
“They are at it again! They should get a life!”

RICHARD

And a corkscrew!

I’ll never forget being given a Swiss Army Penknife for my birthday – it’s one of those rites of passage every boy goes through in order to become a man.

From that moment, life will be spent attempting to whittle sticks, employ the hopelessly inadequate screwdriver, and snipping anything to hand with the tiny scissors.

And then there’s the bragging…

“It even has a tool to remove stones from a horse’s hoof!”

Yeah right.

Because every boy needs one of those.

Although it’s a safe bet, no-one has ever removed a stone from a hoof using a Swiss Army Penknife.

SERENDIPIDY

They say humanity’s rise is due to the opposable thumb and our ability to employ tools; the most remarkable of which, is our brain.

I disagree.

You can’t use a brain to saw wood, or turn a screw. A brain cannot be used to draw a straight line, or measure distance accurately, and it’s useless for holding anything firmly in place.

I know this, because I’ve tried – the end result is always a handful of slimy mush.

You can however use a brain to hammer a nail. Although, you do need to keep it inside the skull to succeed!

TOM

Shinny is Good

I’ve been making the most impractical tool for the last four years. It is in consort with a bay area Steampunk Con. I call it a Spunk Sonic Screwdriver. The idea comes directly from the British sci-fi show Dr. Who. Lots of brass, lots of copper. I’ve got pretty good with a tube cutter. It takes a bunch of filing, sanding, and buffing, but in the end: shinny. I make about 10 sets of parts that I give out at the workshop early the first morning of the Con. The part of done this is people come away smiling.

NORVAL JOE

While the adults searched for a wrench or other tool to repair the broken table, Billbert and linoliumanda went to the refreshment table to get a glass of punch.

Billbert looked into his cup, but he didn’t drink. “I’m sorry about wanting to come to the dance with Marrissa. I was a real fool to believe she wanted to dance with me.”

Linoliumanda nodded her head. “Yea. That was pretty stupid. And her boyfriend is such a tool.”

Billbert felt a light tap on his shoulder. It was Marrissa and she’d been crying. “Do you want to dance?” she asked.

PLANET Z

Whenever there was a problem in our apartment, we’d call Morty.
He’d been fixing things in the building forever.
Miss Jenkins had lived in 3C for seventy years, and she said Morty had always been the maintenance man.
Morty had a sturdy door and lock on his basement unit.
And the windows were blacked out and barred, so I couldn’t see in.
I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“I keep things running good, yeah?” said Morty. “Why question?”
I nodded.
He patted the hinges on the lobby door, muttered “Good as new”, and shuffled his way down the stairs.

The Night Witches

The Germans called them The Night Witches.
Soviet women pilots in biplanes, flying missions at night.
They’d cut engines and dive, making a whistling noise as they came down, like witches on brooms.
The damage they did was devastating, but the death toll among their ranks? Catastrophic.
So few survived to receive their well-deserved medals.
These days, the Russians no longer allow women pilots in their air force.
So, The Night Witches take to their brooms.
It takes strength to hold on to a flying broom with one hand.
And lots of practice to aim a wand with the other.

Seen not heard

They say that children should be seen and not heard.
I agree, which is why I built this room with a window of thick soundproof plexiglass.
No matter how much the children scream, you can’t hear them.
Or touch them.
Nor can you smell them. Or taste them.
I’m sorry. Forgive me for suggesting that.
That’s just… wrong.
We fired the staff involved in that ugly scandal.
And I built a room over there with a window with thick soundproof glass.
No matter how much the former staff screams, you can’t hear them.
Serves them right for what they did.

The flickering pile

I want nothing from you.
You’ve given me more than enough.
And none of it good.
So, leave me nothing in your will.
You being dead, and knowing you’re dead, is enough for me.
Knowing I’ll never hear another lie, another angry phone call, another hateful message on my machine.
Anything you’d leave me, I’d put in a pile in the driveway.
Then I’d pour gasoline over it and toss a match on it.
I’d roast marshmallows.
Smear them on graham crackers and add chocolate bars.
Bought with my own money, of course.
While yours burns in the flickering pile.

The girl without a face

The robot girl had a display screen for a face.
Usually, it displayed a beautiful face.
But every so often, the face would vanish and a menu would appear.
The user would need to select an option from the menu.
Usually, the menu offered a list of actions.
Things the user wanted the robot to do.
But sometimes, the menu would ask a question.
When the police arrived, they found the robot girl holding a bloody knife, standing over her owner.
“DO YOU LOVE ME?” appeared on her bloodsoaked face.
When we checked her log file, the answer was YES.

Halloween genocide

When we arrived, we found the land already occupied.
So, we introduced diseases into the population, and waited.
People died, crops died.
And after five years, the land was ours.
We put on environment suits and explored the countryside.
Abandoned villages full of rotting bodies, nature reclaiming the paths and clearings.
Crews cleaned up one location after another, establishing colonies.
Until there was no sign of the previous population. Only us.
We had conquered the world.
That’s when a light appeared in the sky.
Two. Five. Dozens. Thousands.
They scattered glowing capsules everywhere.
And we clutched our throats and screamed.

Rescuing Snow White

We’d gotten a report that seven miners had kidnapped a girl and made her their domestic slave.
So, we took up positions around the cottage and demanded that they release the girl.
When they refused, we tossed in tear gas and stun grenades, but nobody left the building.
“Bring out the tank,” I said, and the breach vehicle rolled up on the front door, caving in the cottage’s walls and roof.
“Well, crap,” I said. “See if there’s any survivors.”
There weren’t any.
“Sorry your majesty,” I told the queen.
“Don’t be,” said the queen, patting her mirror. “Everything’s fine.”

Weekly Challenge #704 – STURDY

Sleepy

NORVAL JOE

Just as Billbert thought the principal was going to come unglued on him, he was saved by the girl’s PE coach.

Ms. Gastrock climbed onto a small table and shouted, “Okay boys and girls. It’s time for a little game I like to call, ‘Mix and Match’.”

The students never found out what the game entailed because, as the coach drew in a breath, the table, obviously less sturdy than the coach believed, collapsed beneath her weight.

The principal rushed to where Ms. Gastrock lay on her back.

Billbert took advantage of the distraction and slipped away to find Linoliumanda.

TOM

Balance is a Bitch –

Sam grew up on the north-side of Chicago. No sane parent was about to let a kid bike through those streets. Wasn’t going to happen. One of the selling points of this parent’s move to the south subs was he could final have a bike. “Here,” proudly presented Dad. A red Swing fit for a six year old. “What are those?” protested Sam. “Training wheels. They’ll make the bike sturdy.” Ok, thought Sam and took off with dad’s left hand on his shoulder. When dad let go, Sam listed hard right then did plowed into the sidewalk. “Done think so.”

LIZZIE

The cave hideout stank of bacon. Whoever was there had cooked himself a hearty meal.
The treasure, however, had to be moved.
He tiptoed inside. A lamp sat by the side of the entrance and lit the way.
When he reached the spot, he shoved a few chests aside.
“It’s not here.” In a frenzy, he dug through the sand. “It’s not here.”
That’s when a sturdy little man waltzed in.
“You want the cave? You can have it. I bought myself a new crib.” And he waltzed away.
Throwing a pebble at his head didn’t do a thing, unfortunately.

TURA

Sturdy
———
Her proper name was Amélienne, but when she grew up to be a heavy-set little girl, and not the delicate, wispy aristocratic ideal of a daughter, everyone mocked her with a commoner’s name. “Sturdy Jane! Sturdy Jane!” the other high-born children jeered, while imitating her stumpy gait, until her parents hid her away in the servants’ quarters.

She learnt a great many things among the servants, who became as friendly to her as if she were one of them, and not Amélienne de Coucy-Sancièremont et Carabonne.

Her parents were the first up against the wall when she led the revolution.

SERENDIPIDY

You should always pick a sturdy beam, from which to suspend the hooks. Too often, people under estimate just how heavy a dead human body is, and the last thing you want to happen is to have your ceiling brought crashing down, due to an insubstantial fixture.

Why hang them in the first place? I hear you ask. Which shows how little you know!

The best flavour comes with air drying and a curing process that can’t be rushed.

If you want second rate meat, by all means, throw it straight in the freezer.

But I have more refined tastes.

PLANET Z

Arthur was a furniture designer, and he insisted on making sturdy furniture.
When Arthur was young, his father died in an earthquake, when some flimsy bookshelves fell on him.
So, he was obsessed with bracing everything and sturdiness.
He came up with the perfect balance of strength and portability.
It wasn’t pretty, and some of it was downright ugly.
The military bought some of his designs, and he became very rich
He built a mansion, and filled it with fancy furniture.
None of it used his practical, ugly designs.
So, when an earthquake hit, Arthur died under a flimsy bookshelf.

The Gooch

If you’ve been bad, they send you to The Gooch.
Nobody can spell her name or pronounce it right, so we all just call her The Gooch.
Even the teachers call her that.
“That’s enough out of you,” they say. “Go see The Gooch.”
Nobody ever actually saw The Gooch.
She kept her office dark.
And there was a desk lamp, shining right in your face.
Maybe if you squinted, you could see her fingernails clacking on her desk.
When she was happy, she’d smile, and you’d see the whites of her fangs.
Or, if angry, her glowing red eyes.

Dressing the part

Ned is cheap.
He wears a Santa Claus suit as a costume for Halloween.
“Christmas is two months away,” we tell him.
“Plenty of time to party then!” he’d shout, and throw back another shot of whiskey.
He’ll drink himself under the table soon enough. Always does.
I can’t blame him for dressing up like Santa, though.
I mean, he really looks the part. Fat with white hair and a big white beard.
And he never has to throw a Christmas party. He gets invited to all the parties as the Santa.
In spite of being a cheap drunken wretch.