WEEKLY CHALLENGE #710 – PICK TWO panel, acid, blaine, current, coma, stink, taste




I was beginning to have grave doubts about the doctor assigned to grandfather’s care.

My suspicions were aroused when he plugged the stethoscope into grandad’s ears and shouted ‘Wake up’ into the other end; then he seemed to have no idea which way round to insert the thermometer.

It was when he said. “To wake a coma patient, we need to administer a strong electric current”, then grabbed the paddles and placed them against my grandfather’s head, that I panicked and wrestled him to the ground.

Whose idea was it to put the coma ward next to the psychiatric unit anyway?


Can You See the Real Me Doctor

My doctor worries way too much about my state of health. What’s a little blood in the urine? High triple digits on the most lab tests. HA. What I find of concern it the acid taste in my mouth after intermittent commas. Somewhere between citrus and c cell batteries. What’s that all about ………..

Sorry I blinked out again for a second. What day is this? Oh ya Thanksgiving. Yes I’m thankful for my outgoing health. Wait, that’s on going. At least it wasn’t a stroke or cardo heart infraction. Now that would be some major messed up action.


The stage was set. The jury was ready, the music chosen.
He still felt the taste of her mouth.
He cast a furtive glance at her. She ignored him.
They danced. And they won.
He still felt her body pressed against his.
The applause died down as they waved to the audience.
And she hurried away.
He could still feel the shape of her hand in his.
The recollection of her smile was vague though, so vague.
She was now a body fallen into a deep slumber.
The stage was set. The jury was ready.
But there was no music.


My latest date turned out to be a complete jerk.

Too tight to pay for a restaurant meal, he insisted I should cook for him… and also, to see how I compared to his mother’s kitchen skills!

He also bragged constantly about his manliness, and how he wanted to taste the hottest chilli I could make.

So, I threw in a dozen Scotch Bonnets, and a handful of Ghost Chillies, then watched him suffer.

After just a few mouthfuls, he was more than ready for a helping of battery acid sorbet.

I always keep a tub handy, just in case.


Taste; current
“Show me the taste of enlightenment,” said the master.

A student stood, bowed, and began, “Thus have I heard—” The master immediately thwacked him with a stick. The student sat back down.

Another stood, bowed, and said, “Enlightenment is the current that flows through all being.”

The master gestured as if to fill his hand from this current. The student took the hint and sat down.

“Show me the taste of enlightenment!” the master repeated.

I stood, and drew from my robes a bottle of 40-year-old Laphroaig. I bowed and humbly presented it to the master.

The master was pleased.


After a quick flight around the neighborhood, Billbert and Linoliumanda touched down behind a panel van two doors down from her house. He walked her to her door.

Linoliumanda’s father opened the door. He normal acid glare burned through Billbert. “What are you doing back so soon?”

Linoliumanda took Billbert’s hand and pulled him in. “There was a fire,” she said, sniffing the air. “Mmmm. What’s cooking?”

“Brussels sprout casserole,” her mother called from the kitchen.

Billbert wondered if the taste could be as bad as the stink.

Her father asked, “You’re telling me, you walked home from the dance?”


Every year, the coaches or journalists panels rank the Texas A&M football team in the top 25 teams.
And every year, the Aggies beat small wimpy schools, but get beaten by the other ranked teams.
And they drop in the polls until they fall out of the top 25 teams.
The next year, they start off in the top 25 teams again.
And fall quickly again, year after year.
Eventually, the pollsters figured out a solution to correct the error.
Anyone who ranked Texas A&M had their ballot shredded.
Much more humane than shredding the coaches and journalists themselves.

The next weekly topic is SASSY

Hi there. This is Laurence Simon of the 100 Word Stories Podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

Every week, I post a topic for the Weekly Challenge, where you come up with the stories and I collect them up and share them.

Want to give it a try? The topic of the next 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge is SASSY

Write a 100 word story on that topic. Then, send it in an email to isfullofcrap (at) gmail.com with the subject line of WEEKLY CHALLENGE.

Also, suggest a topic or topics for future Weekly Challenges.

Do you have a website where people can learn more about you and your writing? Include the URL to that website.

Most importantly, include a recording of your story. Be sure to introduce yourself to the audience.

I put the episode together on Sunday morning. However, if you need more time, I can put your story up on the feed in a separate post.

Good luck, and as always… keep it brief.

JAN 6 corner
JAN 13 adult
JAN 20 The Devil
judge, delivery, your, lion, unicorn, cherry, Incense, if

FEB 3 transmission
FEB 10 mug
FEB 17 sharp
bob, stitch, eaten, pittance, delete, trumpet, ribcage, ticke, Ziegler

MAR 3 wordy
MAR 10 kill
MAR 17 why can’t you be more like your sister?
MAR 24 confluence
standard, grafitti, blinding, blithering, pony, sparkle, amuse, Fire

APR 7 emotive
APR 14 charge
APR 21 potato chips
hire, heart attack, strip, weaponize, fink, nancy, Bumbling, volt

MAY 5 jack
MAY 12 slurp
MAY 19 zone
stunted growth, bath, passive, pelt, atmosphere,nameless,tendency

JUN 2 surrounded
JUN 9 losing
JUN 16 logic
JUN 23 plot
reason, discretion, zone, stunt, simple, deadwood, Tuba

JUL 7 current
JUN 14 devotion
JUL 21 peer
alligator, bath, vindictive, caterwaul, mildred, bruises, That’s Life, mush

AUG 4 speed
AUG 11 lady
AUG 18 partners
German, in the darkness…, vehicle, halfway, cute, color-coded, Pan

SEP 1 furrow
SEP 8 dresser
SEP 15 void
SEP 22 net
avoid, intertwine, den, get, fudged, meltdown, Tan

OCT 6 smutty
OCT 13 sturdy
OCT 20 tool
saucy, holidays, turtle, boom, cluster, chainsaw, Breast

NOV 3 boom
NOV 10 who cares?
NOV 17 option

panel, acid, blaine, current, coma, stink, Taste

DEC 1 sassy
DEC 8 the F word
DEC 15 broken
DEC 22 throne
probiotic, seventh, fletch, brown manilla envelope, mention, that’s what she said…, Support


JAN 5 crunch
JAN 12 fake
JAN 19 shark
JAN 26 pulled from the water, quirk, pride, ploy, goof, exposed

FEB 2 hankering
FEB 9 lapse
FEB 16 hot potato
FEB 23 contest, hop to it, toys, pain, treading water, protect

MAR 1 tinfoil
MAR 8 gate
MAR 15 gulf
MAR 22 device
MAR 29 to hell with the critics, selfie, jute, impossible, do the needful, icon

APRIL 5 not
APRIL 12 dendrite
APRIL 19 sanitize
APRIL 26 ecology, rash, aberration, plinth, mnemonic, wrought

MAY 3 chemistry
MAY 10 nobody gets out of here alive
MAY 17 empowered
MAY 24 illuminate
MAY 31 null, smartphone, audio, alternative, hot, seek

JUN 7 We apologise for the inconvenience
JUN 14 mushroom
JUN 21 what’s that on the radar?
JUN 28 mass, trade, headache, pick me, It’s not you it’s me,

JUL 5 cleave
JUL 12 soar
JUL 19 powder
JUL 26 case, chewable, grasshopper, signals from outer space, here be monsters, deadly

AUG 2 who’s blood is that?
AUG 9 beans
AUG 16 traitor
AUG 23 pick a card… any card!
AUG 30 removal, shopping, confused, tipsy, offer, early

SEP 6 camp
SEP 13 deploy
SEP 20 anchor
SEP 27 indigo, anchor, shell, squeaky clean, jaw, amphibious

OCT 4 money
OCT 11 boxer
OCT 18 kitten
OCT 25 piano, mongoose, tower, cartoon, evil, serve

NOV 1 revolution
NOV 8 plump
NOV 15 chainsaw
NOV 22 cluster
NOV 29 reward, puppet, global, gear, shop, pit stop

DEC 6 still
DEC 13 pick one
DEC 20 fruitcake
DEC 27 the hand that feeds you, scope, dresser, pit stop, quip, knave

Car alarm

I drive a truck that’s seventeen years old.
I can’t customize the alarm sound on it because the alarm just honks the horn over and over again.
For a while, it was a hassle, trying to differentiate the truck’s alarm from all the other alarms in the parking lot.
Now, people have fancy whoops and bleeps and blaps and even apps that silently warn them on their phones.
Which I wholeheartedly approve of.
Because, while their cars are performing some kind of Kraftwork concert, my truck is the last vehicle left that honks its horn, and I know it’s mine.


Robin Williams once said that we are all given a little spark of madness, and we must do everything we can to keep that spark from going out.
After he killed himself, I knew what I must do.
I must preserve his spark of madness.
With a few phone calls, I determined that he was going to be cremated.
I took a flight to San Francisco and hired a taxi to the crematorium.
With not a moment to lose, I climbed the roof and stood at the chimney.
And I breathed in as much of his madness as I could.

Kroger Lot

The grocery store parking lots are crazy the week of Thanksgiving.
Last minute shoppers, desperate for stuffing or green beans or some kind of spice they forgot.
Rolls! Dinner rolls! You forgot dinner rolls!
Fights over the last can of cranberry sauce.
Then, on Thanksgiving, they’re closed.
When they reopen, they’re crazy again.
Because nobody wants leftovers.
Then, they’re even crazier, because Christmas tree delivery trucks fill part of the lot with trees.
And then people trying to tie the trees to their cars or trucks.
It’s a madhouse.
So, fuck it. I just order pizza until New Year’s Eve.

George the Active Listener

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He was a good active listener, though.
Active listening is different from passive listening, because you’re not just saying “Uh huh” and nodding your head.
You’re repeating back key phrases and showing an interest in what they’re saying, prompting for more.
The other pirates would tell George their problems, and he’d listen, and keep the conversation moving forward.
Pretty soon, George learned a lot about his fellow shipmates and their lives.
He came to realize that they were all scallawags, brigands, and thieves.
You know, because they were pirates.

St. Amateur Night

It’s St. Patrick’s Day.
St. Patrick’s Day is Amateur Night for drunks. Stay away from the pubs.
Just like Valentine’s Day is Amateur Night for lovers.
Stay away from the restaurants. And flower shops.
Black Friday is Amateur Night for shoppers.
Stay away from the malls. Shop online, until the online stores crash, and you can’t go there anymore.
Christmas? New Year’s Halloween?
They’re all Amateur Night.
Every night is Amateur Night here.
Except one.
There’s only one night for the professionals: April Twelfth.
Nothing happens then.
Nothing that you know of, that is.
Nothing that we let you know.

Click Clack

Jack compulsively flicks his lighter open and shut.
Jane compulsively flicks a switchblade open and shut.
They do this everywhere: at the diner, at the bar, while walking on the street.
Especially when they walk on the street.
There’s a rhythm to it. They’re in sync.
Click clack. Click clack. Click clack.
All day long.
they took baths instead of showers so they could keep flicking and clicking.
Jack would refill his lighter.
Jane would sharpen her switchblade.
And then they’d flick them open and closed again.
Sitting there at the retirement home.
Click clack. Click clack.
All day long.

Weekly Challenge #709 – OPTION



“No,” shouted the elderly lady, forking up a luscious pumpkin pie.
“Yes,” replied another.
The living-room of the Club was packed. All the ladies talked at the same time, tea cups held in a precarious fashion.
Suddenly, the door bell rang…
The rest of that night was spent at the police station where an important decision was made.
No more meetings after a night out at the local pub. The neighbors were such twats.
That was actually the word they wrote on a piece of paper, when they got back, and glued it to the neighbors’ door, chuckling like teenagers.


Ctrl, Alt, Delete

I’ve always wished life had been created by Microsoft, rather than poofed into existence by some divine entity, forged from random interactions of molecules, or pooped out of the butt of some pan-dimensional being… Whichever creation story you ascribe to.

At least then you’d always have the option to undo your last action, restore a better version of the past, and a handy pop up confirmation to confirm any drastic action you might have committed to.

Of course, life would also crash randomly, lose everything you’d done so far, and update itself at inconvenient moments…

No worse than now, really!


The Most Delicious Strawberry I Have Ever Eaten

You’ve undoubtably heard of the story of the monk chased by a tiger, driven over a cliff, held between heaven and hell by a single strawberry plant. Nice story. Didn’t happen that way. Being said Monk I will not enlighten you, a little Buddhist humor there. What started as a Koan on the options we must all chose in life, a paradoxical statement or question used as a meditation discipline for novices got way out of hand. This is the skinny. I plunk the strawberry, hit the tiger in the eye, he went over the cliff, and I waved goodbye.


“I built this house myself,” my host said proudly.

I was puzzled by this statement. The house was part of a recent development of about two hundred residences, obviously built by a single developer. All the houses were slightly different but all were much the same, and they were built so closely together that only a thin person might be able to sidle between them.

“In other words,” I said, before I managed to hold my tongue, “you selected plot 37 on the developer’s site plan, house style 4, with options 6, 11, and 17?”

I was not invited back.


You should take the easy option: A shot to the head or the cyanide pill. Either way it will be all over soon, but the odds are firmly in my favour.

Or, if you’re feeling lucky, we can load the chamber, spin the barrel and take our chances with a last ditch game of Russian roulette – it halves the odds, but of course, I could still win.

Then again, you might fire the fatal shot, but that makes you a murderer – and we still have the death penalty around these parts for that particular crime…

Take the pill!


Sure. Lifting off from the school grounds and flying Linoliamanda home from the school dance was not the only option open to Billbert. And probably not the smartest one. However, with the confusion of children complaining about wet hair, firemen and their trucks arriving with sirens blaring, and students all trying to phone their parents at once it was probably the easiest way to get out of there.
Besides, it had been a week since he’d last flown and Billbert really liked it when Linoliamanda held his hand.
Marrissa stood below them, her mouth wide open, watching them fly off.


Paper or Plastic?
Are these my only two options?
What about if I use my own canvas bags?
How about just putting all this stuff back i nthe cart?
I’ll dump it out into my trunk and then empty my trunk when I get home?
How about wooden barrels?
I can roll a wooden barrel, can’t I?
Can you load this all into a catapult and launch it at my house?
I have a volleyball net I’m not using.
That could catch everything.
It sure caught the volleyball every time I tried to play.
I wasn’t very good. Or tall.

Poor Dan

At first, Dan kept saying “I cannot believe my eyes!”
Then, he’d say “I cannot believe my ears!”
Rarely did he say that he could not believe his nose, tongue, or skin.
I guess he didn’t smell, taste, or feel much.
It was when Dan said “I cannot believe my accountant!” that he was in trouble.
Dan was way behind in paying his taxes.
“I cannot believe my lawyer!” said Dan as he was dragged out of court and off to jail.
Let’s just say that his cellmate made sure that Dan believed that he was in jail.
Poor Dan.