Football Injury

Ted hobbled around on a bad knee, and when people asked, he said he had an old football injury.
No, Ted didn’t play football.
He was rushing to the Star Wars toys aisle at Toys R Us, but had to go through the Sports section.
Someone had left a football on the floor, and he tripped over it, hurting his knee.
An ambulance came to pick up Ted and take him to the emergency room.
He had health insurance, so everything was covered.
And when he got out of the hospital, he bought that Limited Edition Boba Fett from eBay.

Weekly Challenge #744 – Powder

Own the bed

LIZZIE

Sprinkle some magic powder on the black cat. No. Stretch and stretch, and stretch some more. Grab the shiny star and place it next to the jar. The cat will look, the star will stretch and the jar will smile a sparkly smile. No. The next time you reach for that magic powder, think that it is safer not to reach for a lighter. A lighter? Where did that come from? The cat will stretch. The jar will sparkle. The star will shine. Yes. That’s it. Everything is back in place. Neatly. Yawn. I prefer to see the jar smiling.

RICHARD

Powder

The raid went without a hitch: We had Carter and Jeffries cuffed and restrained, while we ransacked the room.

One of the officers passed a sealed package to my partner, Davis, who produced his pocket knife, slitting it open to reveal its contents. He moistened his finger, and dipped it into the white powder, before rubbing it against his upper gum.

“What is it?” I asked.

Davis turned away and beckoned me over and whispered, “How the hell should I know”

“So what’s with the gum rubbing?”

“Dunno, they do it in the movies, so I figured I should too!”

SERENDIPIDY

Funny thing, powder.

Talc, sawdust, flour: All totally inoffensive, and apparently harmless, so nobody blinks an eye if you want to stockpile them, nobody asks questions, and nobody keeps records.

And this warehouse is full to the brim with powder of every kind.

Don’t worry, that haze that hangs in the air isn’t going to choke you -not if you breathe gently and slowly.

But tread with caution too, because the slightest static discharge; the tiniest spark, and this whole building becomes one massive spontaneous bomb!

So don’t make any sudden movements.

And pray that I don’t make any either!

RICK THOMAS

New Millennium Craft

Mama passed … The old box was hers. 150 years old, some off the bottles within were older still. Handed down by generations of witches. Marie
knew it front to back …

Preparation, application, incantation.

Spells, charms, potions, poisons, and powders. Leaves, roots, wands …. crystals.

Witches were among the first healers, scientists, pharmacologists, but, the modern world was catching up.

Witch to woman was about knowledge,power, domination.

Witch to man was different … It required finesse, craft, artistry … with a sexual component.

Today’s witches most powerful tool …
The makeup bag.

Like mama always said …

“Powder and paint make a gal what she ain’t.”

NORVAL JOE

Though Billbert agreed with his father that taking Linoliamanda along for a battle with supervillians was a bad idea, he was in too much of a hurry to argue with her. Besides, he liked holding her hand.
Outside, on the sidewalk, Billbert held out his hand. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“Hold on a second,” Linoliamanda said, and took a small bottle of powder from his shoulder bag and dusted her hands with it.
“What’s that?” Billbert asked.
She smiled. “It’s Malaysian bonding powder. So our hands don’t slip apart while were flying.”
“Really?” Billbert asked. “Wow. You come prepared for everything.”

TOM

In Winter the Snow is Deep

On the street they call it Power. A lab in Singapore sequence. It had promising success in early Alzheimer test ground, but some of the side-effect scared the shit out big pharma. So it when underground, then over ground. Asia labs were more broad-minded in their search for new stuff. They kick off a number of hydrogen chain and bammm, super cat state. I seemed to freeze a single thought in a time loop. Same thought reflected back on the user, over and over again. The best way to do Power was to drop a flack on your iris

TURA

Powder
———
In Civilization IX, the simulation goes down to the level of individual people, leading complete lives in the simulated world. Are they alive, everyone asks, but that they might be just makes me take it more seriously. In this game, I’m God, leading them onwards and upwards, while my opponent is playing the Devil, the force of darkness and ignorance.

It looks like they’ll take another two centuries to invent gunpowder, but my opponent is raising up a religion that would declare fire taboo. Time to play a Prometheus card and enter the world myself to teach them the secret.

PLANET Z

You see in the movies and TV shows, a guy pulls out a knife, sticks it in a bag of powder, and licks it.
You can’t taste if something’s pure.
You need chemistry for that.
Bottles and tubes and that kind of thing.
So, we made a field kit.
Well, two field kits.
We sold the good field kit to our people.
And we sold the bad field kit to the cops.
So we know when the stuff is good.
And they think that they picked up junk and throw it out.
And we pull it out of the garbage.

Smoot and Hawley

In school, we learned about the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act.
But nobody ever taught us who were Smoot and Hawley?
I looked them up in WikiPedia
Reed Smoot was a Senator from Utah, a businessman and devout Mormon.
He was one of the church’s Twelve Apostles, but he still became a Senator.
Willis Hawley was a Representative from Oregon.
He taught and administered schools and colleges, and then he entered politics.
Neither seem to be the bumbling, ignorant ogres that modem politicians make them out to be.
Maybe that’s just to distract us from what bumbling, ignorant ogres modern politicians are?

Death to America

The Mullahs in Iran shout DEATH TO AMERICA.
The crowds shout along with them.
Why hate America so much?
I know that “A Horse with No Name” has dumb lyrics, written by Dewey Bunnell, but calling for their death is just ludicrous.
Maybe it’s because Dan Peek pioneered the current Christian pop music movement?
The mullahs hate Christians. Almost as much as they hate America.
Perhaps it’s because the band members were all sons of US Air Force staff.
Who knows, and who cares? The only thing dumber than the song are the assholes who want America dead for it.

Paige

Nobody knows the exact numbers on Satchel Paige.
Scorekeeping and statistics weren’t much of a priority with the Negro Leagues.
And Paige played in other leagues and pickup games in between.
They say he’d go out to the mound all alone on the field, telling the rest of the team to stay in the dugout.
He’d strike everyone out himself.
He struck out the batters, he struck out the coaches, he struck out the umpires.
He struck out the guy selling hot dogs.
He even struck out me while I wrote this story.
Or maybe it was Jackie Robinson.
Whatever.

Meat is Murder

They say that meat is murder.
It’s just as much murder as using too much paper in the printer is.
You’re not killing trees, you’re just desecrating their corpses with a dozen useless cover pages and Hewlett-Packard test patterns.
If meat were murder, then wearing leather is like that weird serial-killer guy from Silence of the Lambs.
Instead of shouting “MOO!” out the window as you drive past cows in a pasture, you should shout “IT PUTS THE LOTION IN THE BASKET OR IT GETS THE HOSE!”
Then kill the cows, cook them, and enjoy a nice steak dinner.
Delicious!

The Cow Says Moo

“The cow says moo,” said the toy.
Timmy smiled, turned the arrow in the center of the toy, and pulled the string again.
“The cow says moo,” said the toy again.
Timmy clapped and laughed, and he made the toy repeat itself for an hour.
Then, when Timmy pulled the string, the toy said, “The cow says stop it, or she’ll go to the barn for an axe to hack you into little pieces.”
Timmy didn’t smile. Or clap. Or laugh.
He put down the toy and watched the door.
When his mother came home from shopping, Timmy pissed himself.

Drink to

So, Cinco de Mayo is an excuse to eat Mexican food and drink.
And St. Patrick’s Day is an excuse to… is there Irish food?
Potatoes? Corned Beef?
But there’s a lot of drinking, I know that for certain.
Are there other days where we make excuses to drink to celebrate some other national culture?
Russians? Italians? French? Germans?
I sure there are, but they’re not marketed like Cinco de Mayo, St. Patrick’s Day, and Independence Day.
The day we eat American food and drink. And blow things up.
Sadly, we don’t blow up the lame and weak American beer.

Weekly Challenge #743 – Soar

Hardware issue

LIZZIE

At the top of the mountain, all we could hear was the fire, burning the logs. And we waited. For a sign. One day and another. Time went by. No sign. Our children waited and their children. And when there was no hope left, I stood up.
“I’ve been here since the beginning. I’m tired. I’m leaving.”
Everyone protested.
I raised my hand. Silence.
“We have burned everything around here. Look! It’s ridiculous. Enough is enough. We don’t even have a twig to burn, a twig.”
Someone at the back whispered “What was the sign all about again? I forgot.”

RICHARD

Interviews

I used to be hopeless at interviews.

I never knew how to project confidence or show myself in a good light, and I always struggled to answer questions in a meaningful way.

That was until I discovered the SOAR technique: Situation, Obstacle, Action, Result!

It’s been a huge boost to my confidence, allowing me to take the initiative at interview, demonstrate my talents to the utmost, and to deliver responses of the highest calibre.

Unfortunately, it hasn’t resulted in me getting any job offers.

So, if you can point me towards any techniques to nail that part, let me know!

SERENDIPIDY

Isn’t this incredible?

Being able to soar like eagles, so far above the earth: Everything spread out beneath us, far below.

They say that after you’ve done your first skydive, you’ll come back time and time again.

It’s certainly held true for me, I’ve lost count of how many jumps I’ve made, and it’s a safe bet that I’ll be coming back for more.

However, I’m afraid you won’t be coming back for another jump.

You forgot the golden rule: ‘Always pack your own parachute’.

Never trust someone like me to do it for you!

See you on the ground!

RICK

The Briefest Moment

He never saw it coming …
“The Circus Life”
Shocking even to him.
Sore feet, bad knees, and the never-ending stench of gunpowder embedded deeply in his sinuses.
Good money with very little work, a trailer to himself, store-bought liquor, and surprisingly … women seem drawn to a human cannonball.
But, that’s not why he does it.
There is a brief moment where the cannon no longer propels … and gravity has yet to claim you …

Floating, weightless, omnipotent … EXULTANT!
A perfect landing, a bow and a flourish …

He exited the big top like a god who walked amongst the sheep!

NORVAL JOE

Billbert told his father, “If the superheros are at the office, working together, maybe I should go there, too. Lend a hand.”
His dad shook his head. “You’re young, Billbert. I wouldn’t want to put you in danger.”
“I woulnd’t be in danger, Dad. I could soar high above them all and give reports of the enemy’s movements. They wouldn’t even see me.”
Mr. Wienerheimer raised his eyebrows. “That might not be a bad idea.”
Linoliamanda tugged at Billbert. “Come on. Let’s go.”
“Where do you think you’re going?” Billbert asked her.
“You concentrate on flying. I’ll do the reporting.”

TOM

An Elusive Thought

Flap Flap. Higher Higher. Push, yes push. So tired, so far. What did he tell me, flap, what was it. Tears only tears are left. Higher. Below me sea, above me sky. What did he tell me, flap, something in the sky. A line of fuzzy green, what is did he tell me about green. Higher Higher. The green is full of brown. Blue, green, brown. Flap. Keep flapping he didn’t need to tell me that. Higher, hot, higher. Not good. What did he tell me, hot not good. Why am I soaring towards the sun. Yes that what he said.

PLANET Z

Hummingbirds flap their wings at eye-blurring speed to stay in the air.
While vultures and eagles and other birds spread their wings and soar, circling thermal currents to rise higher and higher.
And then there’s the penguins, who use their wings to glide under the water.
What of the ostrich? The emu? The kiwi?
Well, the first two run with their powerful long legs.
But the kiwi, squat little thing, just roots around and pecks at bugs and other tiny treats.
Then there’s Bill.
So foolish, with the cardboard flats duct-taped to his arms.
Always getting trapped in revolving doors.

A ride

I took my car to the dealership for an oil change, tire rotation, and other minor regular maintenance.
I sat in a waiting room for a while before a shuttle bus took a group of other customers home.
I met some very nice people on the bus, including a researcher at the university I went to.
I looked out the window to the campus, the old familiar buildings and trees and the new construction.
Then, as the driver headed to my home, I got a text message.
My car was ready.
I laughed, and told him to take me back.