They say

Fisk says that Arabs are Semites, so they can’t be anti-Semitic.
Fisk says that they can’t be terrorists because they’re resisting occupation.
By killing women.
By killing children.
By killing the elderly.
So, I call them Jew Haters.
I call them bloodthirsty barbarians.
I call them murderers.
I call them genocidal maniacs.
I call them animal predators.
I call them brainwashed deathcultists.
Then Fisk calls me a hater.
Do I hate the people who want to kill me?
Who teach their children to hate and want to kill me?
Come close, Fisk. Closer.
And let me spit in your face.

Weekly Challenge #758 – PICK TWO: piano, mongoose, tower, cartoon, evil, serve

Catnip

LIZZIE

The faint sound of a piano reminded her that she had to change…
From her tower of self-righteousness, she knew everything better than anyone. But she felt hopeless. She couldn’t reach out. Pack up your past and put it away now, she thought. This is not what you want. You want to be happy. But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t. It was far too late. She had to put up that front. She knew better, she was smarter, she just was.
The faint sound of a piano made her cry. She was so lonely and it was everyone else’s fault.

RICHARD

Morty

Morty, the cartoon mongoose, was not my greatest creation. Kids just couldn’t relate to him, and many of them struggled to identify just what species of animal he actually was.

Some thought he was a meerkat, others a ferret, whilst a bunch of them turned to the internet for a school project and would serve up mongoose facts totally discrediting his animated antics.

Kids – they’re just plain evil.

Morty’s career was cut short by the network, so I finished him off in his final episode by dropping a grand piano on him from a tower block!

That’s all folks!

SERENDIPIDY

I love cartoons!

I think it’s fantastic the way they can get away with extreme violence, and portray the most evil antics, yet call it children’s entertainment, and although I’m not exactly a child any more, I spend a lot of my leisure time glued to the television, enjoying the crazy cartoon scenes unfolding in front of me.

They’re a great source of inspiration, and I’ve filled a number of notebooks with details of the stunts I’ve observed.

Eventually, I plan to try them all on those unfortunate enough to fall into my clutches.

And, maybe, I’ll film it too!

TOM

A towering success

Do have any idea the worth of an old upright piano? Not talking a baby grand or grand grand. Further not talking a lovely care for family heirloom. Just an old out of toon piece of word and brass. Yup you can pick them up for a song (forgive the metaphor). I got about 20. So what am I going to do with them? I’m building a piano tower. Hope to get into Guinness world record. There’s a guy in Albania who got an 18. To keep stability I’m bolting on old typewriters. Underwoods are a dime a dozens.

NORVAL JOE

“Wiener Dog Man,” one of the men in sunglasses scoffed. “That makes me think of a cartoon hero with a cape trying to serve the community by fighting evil.”
Dergle nodded. “Okay. That’s not far off.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Vander Hoont,” Billbert said. “What exactly are the powers of the wiener dog?”
Dergle stood up straight. “Dedication, tenacity, and confidence, among others.”
The agent sniffed. “Those sound like characteristics, not super powers.”
Dergle shrugged. “Call them what you want. I’m confident that I will not let you take this boy with you. I will defend him tenaciously and with dedication.”

TURA

Evil, tower
———
The evil wizard Shoonlak built an Obsidian Tower in which were embedded the still-living bones of his enemies.

The good wizard Angloin built a Crystal Tower, whose shining summit was a beacon of hope.

The mad wizard Leri built a Tower of his madness, that none but he can see, but those who pass near are seized by visions that carry them away in their talons.

The iron wizard Elon built a Steel Tower, which some say is a great rocket engine, and which, when it takes off, will incinerate the other Towers. For what is mere magic, against Science?

RICK THOMAS

Dream Home

All his life Larry said his home must have three things … A tower, fireman’s pole, and a gargoyle. To his neighbor’s dismay the zoning commission reluctantly approved his request, and the gothic monstrosity was completed.

AC, fireplace, full bar, observation deck.

Decorative motif … Torture chamber.

Chains and shackles embedded in the walls, creepy old surgical tools framed and hung as art, branding irons lay on each side of the fireplace.

The bar was a fully functional rack.

Larry was well pleased, but knew, his dream was yet unfulfilled … until he had a victim chained to the wall … screaming for mercy.

PLANET Z

The old man in the tower likes to play his piano at night.
The music carries all throughout the village.
“I do it as a service,” says the old man.
The villagers disagree.
“He’s not very good a piano player,” they say. “And it’s hard to sleep through it.”
They gather pitchforks and torches and storm the tower.
And they burn the piano.
The old man grumbles, hires some workers, and the next night, he’s on the ramparts playing the bagpipes.
And there’s a new moat around the tower. With crocodiles in it.
He smiles, and plays the bagpipes louder.

The good twins

Willy and Billy were identical twins, born to a nice Catholic couple.
They were raised in the church, baptized and taught all they needed to know.
They were good kids, and Willy and Billy never had anything to confess.
They didn’t even pretend to be the other twin to fool people.
“This is just too good to be true,” said Father Williams.
So, he tried to get them to snitch on each other.
But they had nothing to say.
“I guess they’re perfect then,” said Father Williams.
He tossed a coin to determine which to sacrifice for the Dark Mass.

Remind me of the dead

You remind me of the dead.
They were once alive, and happy.
Then something changed.
Something always changes.
Life is change.
When change stops, when nothing changes, life itself stops.
And death is there.
Death is always there, when nothing changes anymore.
When you say you don’t want to change, you are saying you want to be dead.
The dead don’t change. They stay that way forever.
Oh, we might tell your story and stretch the truth.
A little. Or a lot.
But that’s not change.
That’s the truth, rotting away, just as you rot.
In the hands of death.

Hairomatic

The Hairomatic is a brilliant device.
Put it over your head, push start, and it styles your hair perfectly.
You can choose from a dozen preset styles, or add more stylepacks with a subscription service.
Hackers modified the encryption locks to allow third-party hairstyles.
Dark Web sites offered thousands of styles.
Search a television show or movie, yeah, I want that style… and three minutes later, it was yours.
Hairomatic made billions, but there were the lawsuits.
Error-correction algorithms didn’t always prevent accidents.
And more than one customer found themselves scalped.
And the bald ended up with shattered, mangled skulls.

Hexenbrenner

Massacres spread across the continent, across the ocean, and the new lands.
The Bishop-Prince, they call him Hexenbrenner: The Witch Burner.
In one town alone, hundreds of women captured, tortured, and burned.
And then, his greatest triumph.
The capture of The Witch Queen.
She cast a curse upon the Prince.
He took it as her confession, and tied her to the wooden stake himself.
The townspeople brought the kindling and laid it at her feet.
She laughed as she burned, and a thick black smoke spread from the town center.
People, clutching their throats, unable to scream, suffocating in waves.

The Creepy Election

Halloween before a major election is never fun.
The stores sell masks of the major candidates.
People go to bars in their costumes, get drunk, and a fight breaks out.
Or some kid goes door to door, someone says something snide, and the parents have at it.
At least Thanksgiving comes after the election, so the family can come together and be thankful that it’s over.
Until someone brings up the loser… or the winner.
And that explains the rise of electric knife “accidents” across the country.
Pass the rolls… so I can stuff one in your big fat mouth.

Who weeps?

Who weeps for Merithne Grundle?
Not her mother, who bore her?
Or her father, who sold her into servitude?
Her brothers and sisters, glad to be rid of another mouth to feed when their stomachs were already rumbling from hunger before her arrival, and that much more afterwards?
She has no memory of them now, only the memory of the plow, the basket, and the fields.
To the master’s house.
To the master’s bed.
To the master’s embrace.
They find her the next day, covered with the master’s blood, holding a bloody knife.
Who weeps for Merinthe Grundle?
We do.

Weekly Challenge #757 – KITTEN

Keyboard cat

RICHARD

Sex Kitten

Take my advice, and never marry a sex kitten.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a blast at first – the admiring glances and barely disguised jealousy of other men who can only dream of having what you do; the ill-concealed bitchiness of other women who wish they had her looks and style.

It’s great, but living with a sex kitten isn’t quite what it’s cracked up to be.

Frankly, the novelty of emptying her litter tray ever day has waned; and you never get used to seeing her hawking up a hairball on the carpet.

And sex?

One word – claws!

LIZZIE

I dream of you in colors that don’t exist. In sounds that are as silent as a forest full of life.
I dream of you sitting next to me, cloaked in shiny certainty, wrapped in playful energy.
I dream of you being you and jumping and running.
I whisper a thousand moments of you.
I whisper and smile, desperately trying to keep you here.
I breathe the past to escape the now. But you’re not here anymore.
And you’ll never be here again. Never again.
I have to let you go, don’t I?
I just have to let you go.

SERENDIPITY

I love my little kitten, he’s so cute and playful, a lovable ball of fluff and mischief.

I can’t imagine what I’d do without him and his mad antics.

And there’s you thinking I’m a horrible person, with no heart or feelings; no conscience or morals.

Just goes to show how wrong you can be.

It’s true that I’ve tortured, murdered and desecrated family, friends and strangers alike, but I’m not all bad. My lovely kitten means the world to me.

Best of all, there’s nothing better than a cute little kitten to lure unsuspecting children to a horrible end!

—

RICK

The Adversely Located Tom Cat Blues

Murray’s mama was a lap Kitty. Fluffy, well groomed, and sweet! One night she slipped out the back door and found passion in the back alley.

Murray was born two months later.

His siblings … sweet and cute …
like Mama …

… Murray was cut from different cloth.

Fierce, violent, aggressive …
back alley wild …
the way of the fang in claw!!!

Beast of the streets …
Baptized in blood …
Ferocity, savagery … coursed through his veins!

And yet, when the girl child gave him milk, scratched his neck … Murray would purr and purr

Murray hated that!!!

But … he lapped up the milk … and purred.

TOM

Cat Dharma

The kitten was not cute nor particularly pretty. It looks like an assembly of damp pipe cleaners. It was alone, scared and hungry. She or he had been dump at the end of the street and had made it to the safety of the back deck. We play a game of hide and seek, because if the kitten see me it will duck under the deck. I can’t just leave out cat food. The deer, raccoons, chicken, and woodpeckers would eat it first. So we play hide and seek at dawn and dusk. Sometimes the kitten wins, sometimes the deers.

NORVAL JOE

When Billbert didn’t respond, the two sunglass wearing agents moved a step closer.
“Come on, boy. Let’s go,” one of them said.
Before he could get up, Dergle Vander Hoont stepped in front of him and said, “He doesn’t have to go anywhere with you.”
One of the agents sneered. “Take your emotional support cat and get out of the way.”
Dergle was clearly offended. “This is no paltry kitten. This is the source of my super powers. The powers of the wiener dog.”
“Yeah, Right.” The man laughed. “More like you have the powers of the Christmas Fruit Cake.”

PLANET Z

BEWARE OF KITTY says the sign on the fence.
But I don’t own a cat.
I own a Rottweiler. And I named him KITTY.
All capital letters, too.
Because I shout KITTY a lot.
After words like SIT and STAY and KILL.
KITTY is usually well-behaved.
I stress the usually.
The postman started to carry mace, so I made goggles for KITTY to wear.
Then, the postman started to carry a gun, so I made KITTY a Kevlar vest.
I have a box at the Post Office now.
And never get coupons or political shit hung from my doorknob anymore.

First in class

Danny Krupman was the first in his class.
Danny was the first kid to get a bike.
He was also the first kid to get a cast.
He broke his arm when he fell off of the bike.
Danny was the first kid to get a dog.
The dog ran away. Nobody ever saw it again.
He was the first to grow a mustache, get a girlfriend, get a car.
And he was the first to get cancer.
We visited him in the hospital a few times.
Then, they said we shouldn’t.
I’m dating his girlfriend now.
Like my car?