The 100 Word Stories Podcast

• Lizzie
• Richard</li>
• Tom
• Tura
• Norval Joe
• Jared
• Serendipidy
• Planet Z

TURA

The Universal Joint
———
At the Universal Joint, you can get anything you want, if it’s about pot. Bongs, pipes, rolling papers. Hippie tie-dye clothing, hippie beads, 60s psychedelic posters, acid zines, spacey meditation CDs, Indian inspired jewellery, Tibetan prayer flags, everything.

You want hash? How about our cannabis beers and wines? Hemp petits fours? Hemp seed cooking oil? Hemp moisturising cream? A daily journal, hand-made from hemp fibre paper? Hemp briquettes for your wood-burning stove?

What, you want to ”get high”? Be off with you, young man, before I call the police! This is a respectable neighbourhood, we don’t want potheads around here!

RICHARD

Roulette

The atmosphere was tense as we faced each other, unblinking, across the table.

He slowly took a bullet from the box, inspected it carefully, then slipped it into the chamber, snapping the barrel closed, and giving it a good spin, before gently placing the piece down again.

“So, d’ya wanna go first, or second? Your call, bro, I’m easy.”

By way of a reply, I took hold of the gun, held the barrel to my head, and pulled the trigger.

There was a click, then silence.

I slid the gun across the table.

Then watched him blow his brains out.

LIZZIE

Some might say that nothing changed. The empty room was still empty. The beautiful view was still beautiful. The cranky neighbor was still cranky. When I asked the neighbor why you weren’t picking up the phone, he shrugged. “But where did she go?” I asked and he walked away. I just stood there, in the middle of an empty room, looking at the beautiful view, wondering. I still had that photo we took together in Brazil, laughing like two lunatics, two happy lunatics. When I terminated the lease on the apartment, I noticed that B, drawn on the dusty kitchen counter.

SERENDIPIDY

Where did they go?

Well, some of them, I chopped up and fed them to the local stray dogs, others, I threw into the river, weighted down with concrete blocks, whilst for those a little more off the beaten track, it was a shallow, unmarked grave.

There’s a million ways to dispose of a body, if you know what you’re doing.

Some methods, of course, are more effective than others, and for excellent results every time, I highly recommend the good old fashioned acid bath.

I’ve got a body brewing in one right now, in a barrel out the back.

TOM

“It was the Fall of new century,” dryly stated Ford, “Oxford was turning
brown, swirls of leaves drifted around my feet.” Hamilton interjected:
“Before the rebels took the campus?” Ford looked off to his right trying
to assemble space into a responsive time. “Yes, dear boy. A gentler time,
before the barrels on the roofs. But that would be another tale. Perhaps
later?” “Where was I … oh on my way to the library. I had just made it
the door when I hear a voice over my shoulder.” “Some might say a strong
wind blows against the empire.”

NORVAL JOE

The noise in the lunch room and the distance the rest of the students universally kept allowed Billbert and Sabrina to talk openly.
“The other students have treated you this way your whole life?” Billbert asked. “Is it because your parents are…magic users?”
Sabrina shook her head, “Full disclosure. My parents haven’t been in my life for many years.”
Before he could realize he was putting his foot in his mouth, Billbert asked, “Where did they go?”
Her face turned a dangerous shade of red. “Some might say they weren’t cut out for parenting and chose to pursue other interests.”

JARED

Cheesy Meatball Mushrooms

I wouldn’t know, but if you’ve consumed the gentle herb, try these:

6 Brown mushroom caps, minimum 1” across, no stems

3 Meatballs, cooked and split

2 Tablespoons EVOO

2 Teaspoons kosher salt

3 Tablespoons marinara sauce

¼ cup of Italian blend shredded cheese

Preheat oven to 400*F

Toss mushroom caps in oil and place upside down on baking sheet. Sprinkle with salt. Bake for 12 minutes, or until softened.

Spoon proportional amounts of marinara sauce into caps. Place meatball half, round side down, into sauce. Cover each with cheese. Finish baking for 6 minutes, or until cheese is melted.

PLANET Z

Some street hustlers and table magicians use the traditional three playing cards for Three Card Monte scams.
Others use cups and balls, from cheap Red Solo cups to brushed silver cups.
They let you win the first time, then reel you in.
I know this guy who uses a lit joint instead of the ball.
Shuffles the cups around, the mark feels the cups and lifts the warm one.
Then they look up, and see the joint in the guy’s mouth.
Another guy uses big barrels and a bowling ball.
But no matter what they use, they’ll get your money.

• Terry Tee
• Lizzie
• Richard</li>
• Tom
• Tura
• Norval Joe
• Serendipidy
• Planet Z

TERRY TEE

Again.

Where do I begin

to tell the story

of how great

a love can be,

wait,

that’s not how the story goes.

They left me here,

It was to be a quick survey of the planet but no, the other crew must play a prank on poor old

Engineer Technician #2

“Oh Look” they said “Over there in the clearing, isn’t that a category #10 structure?”

Of course, my curiosity gets the better of me and off I go to check it out.

And away they go, leaving me behind again.

Well, it’s time for ET to phone home again.

LIZZIE

“Maybe they want… No, they don’t. They just want information, nothing else. That’s why they are sitting in that shabby hut. I can smell them from here. They just want a snitch and I’m no snitch. I am committed to the cause. This small house by the river is the perfect place to keep an eye on them. They have no idea I’m here. None.” And he chuckled.
When the window shattered, a single shot coming from the shabby hut, he fell.
“Where do I begin…” said the sniper at his debriefing. “If you hesitate, you’re done, and he hesitated.”

RICHARD

Short story

Experience has taught me that most writers these days are pretty good at opening chapters – they are, after all, the bait to lure both publishers and readers in – but things often go rapidly downhill from there.

I’ve lost count of the number of books where I’ve reached the final pages, and it’s abundantly clear that the author doesn’t have a clue how to wrap things up or come to a decent conclusion.

So, I always begin at the end, and if the final chapter is pretty compelling, there’s a good chance the rest of the book is worth reading too.

TOM

What Could Possibility Go Wrong #001

Hamilton pulled up a stately winged leather chair next the white hair old
man. His advanced age made him appear a cross between Santa and Einstein.
Yet on closer examination the bright blue of ageless eyes signaled a near
nefarious intent. Unfolding the weather note book, Hamilton began the
interview will the same question the public at large had been dying to
know since Maximum Ford had walked out Rift. Or should I say Sir Ford
second Time Lord of the Queen: Where is Arnesto Cervantes? Hoarsely Ford
replied,” Where do I begin.” And he did much to Hamilton surprise.

TURA

Where do I begin?
———
At the age of seventy-five I decided to write my autobiography, being full of years and accomplishments, yet still reasonably expecting time enough to complete the task. But where to begin?

My own birth would be the obvious place, but first I would have to give some account of my parents, and then the cultural circumstances that brought them together. But that implied a whole social history of their era, and the deep tides of civilisation that produced it, which in turn— and so on.

After long consideration, I wrote the first words. “Fourteen billion years ago, the universe began.”

JARED

799/800: Questionable Accounting
The accounting system for thoughts and opinions is rather confusing. Someone asking for your opinion is worth ‘a penny for your thoughts’. But sharing an opinion unbidden, one ‘offers their two cents’. Is the one cent difference a penalty for not waiting to be asked? Or are they both just starting positions for negotiations? I offer my two cents; do you haggle to pay me less? You offer me a penny for my thoughts, do I hold out for more? What if the extra penny is actually supposed to be funding all the nickels someone gets for ‘every time they…’?

——————————
801: The Stuttering Storyteller
It all started the night I caught her sneaking out on me a month ago. I had noticed her behavior had become erratic and had grown suspicious. I guess that means it started before then.

So, I would have to say it started a few months before, when I noticed her schedule became unpredictable. She was very reliable in terms of when I could expect her home. At least, ever since she changed shifts at work. Although now that I put it like that, maybe that’s where to begin. Anyway, now she’s dead, and I don’t know who killed her.

NORVAL JOE

Sabrina had been right when she told Billbert that they had all the same classes, and he followed her from room to room. She had also been truthful when she said the other students all spoke behind her back.
They sat together at lunch and it was clear the other students were giving the two of them strange looks.
Billbert asked, “What happened that these people want to treat you so badly?”
Sabrina sighed and stared sadly at her tuna fish sandwich, “Where do I begin? I’ve lived here my whole life and people have always treated me this way.”

SERENDIPIDY

Where do I begin?

Usually just below the nape of the neck: A long, straight cut along the ridge of the spine, finishing in the small of the back.

Precision is everything, cut too deep and they bleed profusely, too shallow and you’ll tear the skin.

You’ll want to be able to peel it apart at the shoulders, draw it forward and slide it from their arms, like removing a wetsuit.

Be sure to administer morphine, or their screams will distract you.

Finally, when they’re properly peeled, slip yourself into their skin, and see what it’s like being somebody else.

PLANET Z

Where do I begin? asked God to nobody.
God started with a giraffe.
It thrashed about and then floated limply through the void.
“Bummer,” said God.
God made a few billion more giraffes, and they all did pretty much the same thing.
Giraffes floated around and bumped into each other.
“That didn’t work out so well,” said God.
God pondered somewhere to put the giraffes.
And created the heavens and the earth.
Dead giraffes plummeted from the heavens to earth, making a mess.
God eventually edited this part out from the official version of Genesis.
But the giraffes never forgot.