For ten years, Pradeep ran the country’s ferry system.
He slashed maintenance budgets, raised fares, and packing more people on each boat.
Well, the boats that still ran.
There were a lot of breakdowns, thanks to the slashed maintenance.
And there were the accidents.
Hundreds drowned and died in capsized ferries, but Pradeep always found a scapegoat to blame.
And, yet, he always managed to sleep soundly.
Until one morning, he woke up on the shore of a strange river.
A hooded figure held an oar, and stood by a small raft.
“Climb aboard,” it said. “Satan is expecting you.”
Weekly Challenge #807 – Binge
RICHARD
Binge
I can’t understand how people binge on box sets, have movie marathons, or watch a whole season in one session.
After sitting through just one film, my seat is feeling uncomfortable, I’m getting a little bored and irritable, and my inner voice is prompting me to get up and do something more productive instead.
I’m that person who never made it half-way through Gladiator!
Give me a decent book though, and hours can pass before I put it down.
And, invariably, at the end, I’ll find myself thinking, ‘that would make an awesome movie’
But, I wouldn’t watch it!
NORVAL JOE
Billbert and Sabrina walked through the cold afternoon mist to the back doors to the girls and boys locker room. They stood next to a soda machine that the students binged empty each time as soon as it was filled. Everyone else appeared to be waiting for the class bell where it was warm in the cafeteria, the library, or even just hanging out in the halls.
“What did you want to show me?” Sabrina asked.
“Watch this,” Billbert said, holding his hands out to his sides. He slowly rose off the ground.
Sabrina raised a single slender eyebrow. “So?”
SERENDIPIDY
I don’t like to be pigeonholed, but if you must insist, I’d rather you didn’t tar me with the same brush as others, just because their activities follow a similar pattern.
I am not a serial killer, never gone on a killing spree, and I’m no assassin or professional hitman.
If anything, I’d have to describe myself as a binge killer.
You know how it goes… I behave myself, sometimes for months on end, then something happens, maybe a celebratory occasion, or bad news, and I just go a bit overboard.
And yes, I always feel dreadful the morning after!
JARED
Binge Therapy
He learned to binge-eat himself into a food coma to silence his insecurities. He learned how to binge-drink himself into oblivion to subdue his memories. He had tried binge shopping, but that hadn’t done anything but drain his wallet. His newest therapy was to binge-watch himself into a stupor to distract the boredom. But now he was truly lost for medicine. What could he binge on to ease the rage and frustration he felt when the woman he was supposed to grow old with was taken before they were even grandparents? Maybe he could try binge killing the assholes responsible.
PLANET Z
Back in the day, you had to watch shows when the stations aired them.
Then came videotape, and you could buy the series.
Waiting for them to come all at once, and then watch them all in one sitting.
Same with DVDs and Blu-Rays.
When online came about, you could get the disks streamed when they were released.
Until… the day came that a whole series would be released all at once.
Everyone would binge watch it, and work the next day would be people sleeping in or talking about the series.
I’d sick out, just to avoid the spoilers.
Tenure
There’s an old saying:
Two people can keep a secret if one is dead.
So, I proposed this for my doctoral thesis.
“How are you going to prove that?” asked my advisor.
So, I had him whacked and stuffed into a 55 gallon drum.
“Shit,” I said. “I forgot to tell him a secret.”
So, I got another advisor, told him that I’d whacked my first advisor, and had him whacked.
“Oops,” I said. “Forgot to get his approval.”
The barrels began to stack up.
The university shrugged it off.
“It’s easier than firing professors with tenure,” the dean said.
Legend dinner
When a Hollywood legend wins a Lifetime Achievement Award, they usually stand up and make a joke about not being done yet, or did they hear something from their doctor or something like that.
Except Burt Curtis.
The guy’s at least a hundred.
Deaf. Blind. Trapped in a wheelchair.
You couldn’t tell he was alive if it weren’t for the blinking lights and the whisper of the ventilator.
Still Hollywood’s elite wheels him from banquet to banquet, ceremony to ceremony.
His doting relatives (…right!) speaking on his behalf when they’re not fighting over his will.
The twisted grimace twitches feebly.
Sam the Saw
Saul the Saw was a magician.
He and his assistants, Janet and Sue, sold out theaters across the country with a double sawing act.
Janet in blue, Sue in red.
In went the blades, switch the boxes around, and they came out with each other’s skirts.
When Sam caught them together under the sheets, he cut them both in half for real.
And Sam went to prison for the double murder.
Now and then, he gets a hold of a deck of cards.
In the dining hall, shuffling.
“Pick a card,” he says.
When he guesses it, always say yes.
Rico
After the boys whacked Rico, they put him in the trunk and drove off.
Nobody saw Rico ever again.
The cops brought in the boys and gave them the third degree.
But they never said anything, and the cops had to let them go.
The cops followed them for a while, but they didn’t lead anywhere.
Over the years, people claimed they knew where Rico was, dead or alive, but nothing ever panned out.
Rico became a punchline and a bit of trivia, then faded from the headlines and memory.
Now, when you mention Rico’s name, the kids say “Who?”
Estate sales
I love estate sales.
Other people shop for barely-used appliances. Or jewelry. Or odd knick-knacks from their travels.
Clothes, well, that’s a bit too personal.
So is a bed. A bed frame is fine, but a bed? No.
It’s rare to find home movies.
The family usually keeps those or throws those out.
But every now and then, there’s a can of film in a projector or a tape left in a VCR.
I watch them all, and get an idea of what they were like when they were alive.
Before I killed them.
After all, I love estate sales.
Andy gets my vote
Who doesn’t like Andy Anderson?
With his wide smile and red pinstripe suit and straw hat.
Marching down Main Street with a big grin and a firm handshake and a “How do you do?”
Kissing every baby and handing out cigars.
“I’ll clean up this town!” he shouts. “Vote for me!”
The next day, Andy’s body was handing from a lamppost.
His tongue pulled through a hole through his neck.
Columbia isn’t too far away to send this town a message.
“Nothing to see here,” says the chief of police, a fresh wad of hundred dollar bills in his pocket.
Weekly Challenge #806 – PICK TWO Craft, Ceremoniously, Empty spaces, Clickbait, Disposal protocol, You saved my life, Level
NORVAL JOE
Billbert blinked. “What? No! I’m not a pervert. But it is something personal, so we need to go where people can’t see us.”
“Okay. We’ll see,” Sabrina said gathering up her lunch trash. She carried it to a garbage can and ceremoniously dumped it as if following a prescribed disposal protocol. Billbert threw his away without any added flourish.
“Where do you want to go?” Sabrina asked. “There aren’t many empty spaces around the school at lunch time.
Fortunately, the day was overcast and chilly and most the students stayed in doors.
Billbert pointed. “Over by the locker room doors.”
JARED
She Couldn’t Believe What They Saw
Everyone knew the Watkins place was haunted. Unless you asked them. Awa decided to broach the subject at Evan and Flora’s slumber party. It escalated quickly:
“I double-dog dare you to sneak into the Watkins house with me.”
Evan would have refused if Flora hadn’t been there. Thus, the three of them found themselves sneaking into a house none of them wanted to be in.
They ceremoniously followed the rituals of investigating scary houses, opening doors one by one.
“This one’s empty, too,” Awa pouted. Evan and Flora looked to each other for reassurance – they could see something Awa couldn’t.
TOM
What Could Go Possible Wrong 006
Ford tucked the ball under his arm, made a wide turn to pass through the north gate. “So spill it Cervantes.” “Whatever do you mean Ford?” “Look around you, I don’t need to Level – up. If fact I’m not in play anymore. I’m not the guy. Just a dusty Don, chairing a dusty department. Point Set Match old friend.” Cervantes hailed a taxi. As the hack rolled up to the curb Arnesto lend in to Ford “You saved my life once, sir you have a unique skill set. Her royal presence is charging you to keep this sorry Spaniard alive.”
SERENDIPIDY
You’ll never know it, but you saved my life.
Your generosity and the miracles of medical science restored me to health and saved me from almost certain death.
Your heart, beats within my breast, your kidneys cleanse the poisons from my system, and your corneas gave me back my sight.
I grant you that it’s unusual to take the organs from a donor whilst they’re still living, but my needs were pressing.
And, as I gaze on the empty spaces where your organs used to lie, I smile.
“Cheer up, maybe we’ll find a donor to put you right too!”
LIZZIE
You saved my life and then you followed the disposal protocol. “I must keep moving,” you said. And I knew you meant climbing that money ladder. You grabbed my hand to pull me out of that hole they had hidden me in. Those were the worst 5 days of my life, I thought. But… no. That was not true because the worst 5 days of my life were… now. You barked “No need to shower her.” And you pointed at me. I smiled at the thought that the kidnappers had been kinder than you and your petty little nauseous vengeance.
RICHARD
Rest in peace
We decided that the captain should be disposed of in a manner befitting his station and reflecting the esteem in which he was held.
Ivan, as usual, insisted we follow the rules and adhere to the Disposal Protocol, but he was outvoted – the captain merited better than being torpedoed from the craft in a tube.
We wrapped him in a white shroud, and watched through the portholes as his body drifted slowly from the airlock.
Before being sucked into a booster, instantly shredding his body, and destroying our only means of propulsion.
“Told you to follow the Protocol”, sighed Ivan.
PLANET Z
Martin wrote “Disposal protocol for immortal beings” on a cover sheet, put it in the folder, and dropped it in his Out box.
The Agency didn’t use computers or email or other modern communication.
It used paper, pens, and files and folders stored in filing cabinets and warehouses.
“The Entity can manipulate electricity,” says The Director.
The underground factory produces lead-lined sarcophagi.
In which the captured subjects are sealed and buried.
With every delivery, Martin signs the intake forms.
Assigns storage locations.
100 units per storage area.
Which are then filled with concrete.
And the next storage location is opened.
Jeremy Blake The Fourth
Clutching his head, a searing headache, a migraine of migraines.
“Jeremy Blake the Fourth.”
Jeremy repeated that in the darkness.
Shadows, then lights, shapes came together to form a white room.
One moment, he had been in the scanning center.
A flash of light, and then darkness, and the massive pain in his head.
He looked at his hands, flexed his fingers, and clutched his head to squeeze out the pain.
“This one’s corrupt, too,” said a voice. “We’ll scan again.”
Jeremy’s pain vanished, along with Jeremy, and another Jeremy appeared in his place.
“Jeremy Blake the Fourth,” he said.