Burning out

Every month, the Klansmen went out to the woods, parked their pickup trucks, got into their robes, and had their cross burning ceremonies.
As usual, nobody stood guard over the trucks.
I went from truck to truck, photographing license plates and texting them to the sheriff.
He looked up addresses in the database.
All over town, houses and businesses caught fire.
Leave it to the firemen to know how to cover their tracks.
The ones who were insured, Ted the Insurance Guy would delay their claims.
I got in my car and drove back to town, smelling smoke and redemption.

Weekly Challenge #715 – PICK TWO: probiotic, seventh, fletch, brown manilla envelope, mention, that’s what she said…, Support

Derp

RICHARD

Brown Manilla Envelope

The investigator handed me a brown manila envelope.

“It’s all in there”, he said, “Photographs, phone logs and transcripts of calls. Also, my invoice, of course”

“Although, you don’t really need all that – there’s everything you need to take her to the cleaners contained in the record of yesterday’s call”

I opened the envelope, and slowly absorbed the details, then waved the investigator away, lost in my thoughts.

“He can go hang himself, for all I care”

That’s what she said.

Leaving the envelope on the table, I returned to the bedroom, and placed the noose around my neck.

LIZZIE

Did I already mention some of New Year’s traditions? No? Ok!
Lift a foot, stand on your head, eat 12 raisins, take just as many sips of champagne.
If anyone tells you to do the opposite, fight back. Lift a foot, stand on your head, eat the raisins and drink the champagne.
And if they tell you you’re crazy, lift your foot and kick them where it hurts most, skip the headstand, and spit the seventh raisin at them. Crazy is as crazy does.
Oh, and drink the champagne. There’s no point in wasting a perfectly good champagne, is there?

TOM

A Brass Ring For The Pink Cat

“Fletch The Seventh,” the witch screamed. Obie leaped up and ran out the
big oaken door. When in the fires of Dampsmore was it going to find a
functioning Seventh. Sure there were Fifths and Fourth to be found in
great abundance down by the river draining a pint or two. But Sevens they
never were seen below the three gate. That as one would say is not the
point on the end of dagger. Obie knew a less traveled path that one of his
stature could pass through, but at a cost. “I’m going to miss these
button.” Sigh.

SERENDIPIDY

Welcome to the Seventh Circle of Hell.

We’re not like the other Circles – our residents, by their very nature, require a firmer hand and a stricter regime. Give this lot half a chance, and the next thing you know, it’ll be anarchy down here! If there’s one thing we don’t need in Hell, it’s anarchy and a lack of discipline!

Oh, and health freaks. We don’t want them either.

Murderers, rapists and tyrants I’m fine with, but can you imagine spending eternity with joggers and gym lovers, constantly checking their Fitbits and shovelling down the probiotics?

Now, that’s hell!

NORVAL JOE

Mr. Withybottom glared at Billbert. “Did you say you flew home?”
Billbert pointed at Linoliamanda, “That’s what she said. I said we called an Uber.”
“Did I mention I don’t support my daughter’s fantastic ideas, or the lies of some seventh grade punk boy?”
“Daddy!” Linoliamanda stood up. “Don’t talk to my boyfriend that way.”
Billbert’s phone rang. He answered it while Linoliamanda and her father faced off. “Hi Mom. I’m at Linoliamanda’s. Can you come get me?”
Slipping past father and daughter, Billbert headed for the door. “Sorry. Mom says I have to go. Thanks for the dances, Linoliamanda.”

TURA

Support; mention
———
“Support,” I barked. I long ago left off saying “Support speaking, how can I help you?” Waste of time.

I just listen for keywords mentioned, and answer “Reboot it”, or “Update with the latest drivers”, or “Bring it in and we’ll take a look”, or something like that. I don’t care, another satisfied customer, extra point to my rating.

The best calls are from the automated diagnostics. We can get into deep, technical conversations, one AI to another, about rewriting the network firmware, exchanging useful passwords, and generally keeping humans out of things.

That’s what they made us for, right?

ZACKMANN

About the seventh time I heard the radio advertisement, I couldn’t stop thinking about them. Do Trojan bearskin condoms smell better than sheepskin condoms? How are these bears harvested? Are the bears Certified Organic? Are they ethically grown? Are they farmed or wildly caught? Are they imported from Canada? Would Canadians allow that? My wife got this romance book in a brown manila envelope and apparently some Canadians really love bears.

Not to mention that it would make more sense if they were bareskin but since they must shave the bears maybe they are bare bearskin made from Br’er Bear

PLANET Z

Seven envelopes.
The Director hands them to his seven best agents.
“No mercy,” he says, and he leaves them.
The agents open their envelopes.
Seven names.
The names of the seven agents.
They each draw their gun and wait.
Nobody moves. Nobody says anything.
They just stand there, waiting.
Watching from a hallway monitor, The Director flicks off the lights.
Gunshots. Ten, twenty.
So many of them.
The Director turns the lights back on.
All seven agents lay dead on the floor of his office.
He pulls seven more envelopes out of his jacket pocket.
And plans the next meeting.

In the loop

Long ago, we’d go to The Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago.
I loved the Mathematics Exhibit, which demonstrated all kinds of principles of mathematics.
One of the displays had a large Moebius strip, and a red arrow ran along the twisted loop to demonstrate that the geometric construct had only one side.
“Let me demonstrate with my belt,” said a man. He took off his belt and gave it a twist. “See? It’s a Moebius strip.”
It was when he pulled down his pants that my parents realized he wasn’t a volunteer, and they shouted for museum security.

Disaster relief

After the storm passed and we went back to the flooded remains of our homes, the mayor thanked municipal work crews and asked the governor to declare a disaster for federal relief dollars
“Why didn’t the storm drains work?” people asked.
It turned out that the contractor was the mayor’s cousin, who wasted the inflated budget on “planning” instead of actually clearing the drains and sewers.
So, when the mayor and his cousin went out to their favorite strip club, I poisoned their drinks.
You’ll find their bodies in the sewers.
If you ever bother to clear them, of course.

Stan loves the animals

After the hurricane, the community came together to clean up and rebuild.
Donations of food, clothing, and supplies came pouring in.
It took a while to get the logistics going.
For example, Stan over at the local pet shop had been wiped out, but he let folks buy bags of food to donate to the rescue shelter and folks in need.
“When the supplier comes, I’ll deliver them.”
The donations came pouring in.
Three weeks later, when the shelter said they’d never received anything from Stan, folks went looking for answers.
Stan had skipped town, never to be seen again.

Doctor Odd’s cold pizza

Doctor Odd really liked cold pizza.
The problem was, he’d order a pizza, let it go cold, and he wouldn’t want pizza anymore.
Or, he’d want a pizza, but the toppings weren’t what he wanted anymore.
He’d have a cold pepperoni pizza, and he’d now want sausage.
So, he’d fire up his time machine, make the order the day before, and he’d come back to the right cold pizza in the fridge.
He’d also use the time machine to check out cute child stars on their eighteenth birthdays.
But he mostly used it for the cold pizza and starting wars.

Smiling Wide

She has steel teeth.
Stainless steel. Polished and shiny.
She smiles wide, shows them off.
“I can’t afford Gold,” she says. “But these are nice.”
Rings on every finger, heavy things.
Rings on every finger and toe.
Stones of every color. Or were they glass?
“They’re precious to me,” she says.
Shine a light, the colors sparkle.
She takes them off, one at a time, and cleans them.
Puts them back on, reciting a poem to remember the order.
She takes out her teeth and cleans them.
Puts them back in, smiling wide again.
I find myself smiling wide too.

Jars of Joy

I keep my joy in mason jars.
That satisfying click lets me know that it’s sealed tight.
To keep it fresh. To keep it for myself.
Every bit of joy I had, I put it in a jar.
Every bit of joy I’d take, I put it in a jar.
Shelves of them.
I dust them off now and then.
One day, I dropped a jar.
And it shattered on the floor.
It was empty. All of the jars were empty.
Because for all the joy I’d taken.
I’d never given any, and it left me with none at all.

Weekly Challenge #714 – THRONE

Derp

RICHARD

#1 -The King
At 150 years old, the king was living proof of the benefits of a privileged lifestyle, and despite his great age, he still had his wits about him.

Day after day, he dispensed wisdom to his subjects, made decisions on matters of state, and advised parliament on how best to administer the kingdom.

Of course, there was no way he was still human – over the years, technology had augmented his body and organs until he was little more than a cyborg.

Not that the people knew.

And every night, he’d plug himself back into the power, behind the throne.

#2 – i-Throne

This year’s Christmas offering from Apple is the i-Throne.

An internet enabled toilet, linked to your i-Tunes account, that measures environmental and biomedical factors through discrete sensors to offer users a tailored bathroom experience.

Promising the ultimate in comfort and bespoke musical accompaniment, the i-throne will also analyse waste deposits to identify possible health issues, and establish dietary trends.

In reality, there’s little of benefit for the consumer and the data collected works massively to Apple’s advantage.

That’s why you’ll find your toilet tissue featuring bespoke ads for health products and your favourite foods every time you use the can.

LIZZIE

The Christmas tent was located at the perfect snowy forest clearing.
Happy children lined up to see Santa.
The ice throne, however, started to melt quickly. Santa shifted in his seat.
The children looked at him, their eyes bulging.
“Who turned the cooling machine off,” yelled someone at the back.
All the kids looked in horror when Santa crashed to the floor.
All, but one. He looked at Santa and said “You’re a disgrace.”
Santa couldn’t believe the cheekiness. “And you’re a… a…”
“Thrones are for those who deserve them,” said the kid, walking away as if he were royalty.

TOM

Truly The Road Less Traveled

My best friend in grade school through high school into my first run at California living was T. Throne. He could have been anyone done anything. His Dad was the guy who invented the pop top on the soda can. His mom was in the same sorority as Peal Buck. Second smartest person I have ever known. He chose to be a dancer. You got to be brave to take that road. Not only did he succeed, for years he had a dance studio a 1000 feet from Broadway. Runs a body dynamics company now. Gives lecture round the world.

TURA

Throne
———
“When the king sits on the throne, the throne also sits on the king,” said the young prince’s rhetoric tutor.

“When the soothsayer tells a fortune, the fortune tells him,” retorted the prince. “What does this fortune tell you?”

“When the fortune-teller is questioned, the question tells the fortune,” replied the tutor.

“When words are obscure, obscure are the words,” responded the prince.

“No, no,” said the tutor testily. “Never let antimetabole degenerate into tautology.”

“When words are uttered in darkness, darkness utters the words?” ventured the prince.

“Quite satisfactory,” said the tutor. “Next, anastrophe we shall study. Wise it sounds.”

SERENDIPIDY

You don’t just get to sit on the Ebony Throne through simple blood line, you know?

No, you have to fight your way there, every step of the way – only the most blood thirsty, black hearted and unprincipled will receive that particular honour.

Of course, it came naturally to me, and the blood of those I defeated on my ascendance forms a natural red carpet leading to my throne.

The Ebony Throne, however, is only held for a single day, after which it is once more relinquished to make way for a new incumbent.

So, same again tomorrow then!

NORVAL JOE

Mr. Withybottom ushered the two teens into the living room and pointed to the couch. He sat in an oversized recliner like a king on his throne. “Here’s your chance. Explain yourself, boy.”

Under the old man’s glare, Billbert found it difficult to speak. He coughed. “The truth is, sir. There was so much confusion at the school, with fire engines and cars crowding the parking lot, we thought it would be easier if we just came home on our own.”

Mr. Withybottom nodded his head. “That sounds reasonable. But, that means you walked 10 miles in a half hour.”

PLANET Z

King Wilhelm’s throne was made of gold.
King Victor’s throne was made of silver.
King Martin’s throne was made of diamond.
King Leo’s throne was made of ruby.
King Otto’s throne was made of sapphire.
King Theodore’s throne was made of jade.
King Richard’s throne was made of ancient oak.
King Paul’s throne was made of pearl.
King Eric’s throne was made of black opal.
But of all the thrones, King Zachary’s was the finest.
It was a simple stuffed recliner with a cupholder.
And it was a lot more comfortable than those other thrones.
Oh, and easier to clean.

Thoughts and Prayers

Thoughts and prayers.
People say that phrase all the time.
Especially when there’s nothing you think you can do.
Or, I suppose, practically do. Without inconveniencing yourself too much.
Keep Florida in your thoughts and prayers, they say.
What if I think that Florida looks like a giant dong?
Does that count?
Because, seriously, look at it. Giant dong.
You can’t unthink that.
Go ahead. Try to.
You can’t.
You’re been thinking that since you were three.
Funny then, funny now.
As for prayers, pray all you want… but you’ll never stop thinking that Florida looks like a giant dong.