Weekly Challenge #684: PICK TWO stunted growth, bath, passive, pelt, atmosphere, nameless, tendency

Birthday Girl

LIZZIE

Nameless Atmosphere

The place is haunted, someone said. Or perhaps it’s just for the show.
The atmosphere is eerie, another added, chuckling.
They all agreed.
“What’s the place called?”
No one knew.
“Let’s call it Nameless.”
Everyone laughed and their laughter echoed throughout the pitch-black galleries and archways.
They got closer to one another. Just in case, they thought collectively without actually saying it.
Where are the scary ghosts, someone asked in a jesting tone.
No one thought it was funny.
That’s when they noticed the dark shadow snaking its way towards them and they knew it wasn’t just for the show.

RICHARD

Speaking my mind

I have a tendency for staying the obvious.

In forty degree heat, I’ll be the one to say, “Isn’t it hot?”; I’ll come home after being caught in a sudden downpour, and exclaim, “I’m soaked!”; And, on several memorable occasions, I’ve walked into a gathering, only to blurt out, “Wow… There’s a hostile atmosphere in here!”

Social gaffes like that have lost me friends and created a fair few enemies too.

So, I thought I may as well capitalise on my failings and I became a restaurant critic.

I have more enemies than ever, but at least I eat well!

TOM

It hung on the back wall of the tiny store. Been there for a good 90 years. Everyone who had at one time or another had come up will a guest of what animal it had been, but any of those guest weren’t the strong, didn’t stand any length of time. You could hear, “Sort of some cat. Maybe a bear” One day a guy from the local college took a sample and ran a mess of test. What he found out scared the crap out of him. Now at the back wall there’s an iron box wrapped with lead chains.

NORVAL JOE

Though it made him seem perpetually passive, Billbert had the tendency to be a peacemaker and try to create a copacetic atmosphere. “That’s good, then, Wanda. We won’t blow your cover if you won’t blow ours.”

Linoliamanda clutched Billbert’s arm, nodded her head, and said, “That’s right. We’ll all keep our little secrets to ourselves.”

“I’m late for remedial math,” Wanda admitted. “But don’t think I won’t be keeping my eye on you, Billbert.”

“I’ve got to get to art, too.” Linoliamanda said. “We’re curing animal pelts in a tannic acid bath. I’ll look for you at the bus stop.”

TURA

The Nameless Tendency
———
We are the Nameless Tendency.

We are invisible, but we are everywhere.

We have no manifesto: what could it say?

We have no goal, so we will never be satisfied.

We say nothing, because all know the truth.

We have no desires, only intentions.

We have no demands, only judgements.

We accuse none, because all are guilty.

We speak without words, because words are lies.

No-one is with us, but everyone must be for us.

All are on trial. Defence is a plea of guilt.

We do nothing, yet everything is done.

The bombings will continue until there is peace.

PLANET Z

They call him the nameless god.
The one that nobody worships.
He has no templates and no churches.
No priests, no shamans.
He walks in the shadows of stars. Watching, waiting.
But doing nothing.
Do not speak to him, he will not listen.
Do not pray to him, he will not answer.
The other gods sit on their thrones and shout and fight.
But the nameless one has no throne, and he does not fight.
Only walking, watching, waiting.
When the stars burn out and the gods go home, only the nameless god will remain.
Only then, will he speak.

Whoopi

Whoopi Goldberg said that she’d leave the country if Donald Trump won.
Then, when Trump won, she said it was only a joke.
Eventually, her agent got her booked for a few gigs in Europe.
But when she tried to come home, her passport was declared invalid.
“Sorry,” said the embassy’s passport control officer. “Your passport was revoked. You’ll need to apply for a new one. Fill out this form, provide two forms of identification, a photo, and the fee.”
She waited four weeks, and then another four weeks after she explained why her driver’s license said Caryn Elaine Johnson.

Personal Shoppers

It’s interesting to hear the “I was only joking!” or “I didn’t mean it!” statements coming from celebrities who used “I’m going to move to Canada if Trump wins!” threats as emotional blackmail or emphasis on endorsements.
So, they make an emotional plea, back it up with a threat, and their word is worthless?
If a corporation sponsors their projects or hires this person as a spokesperson, how do they reconcile that this famous person’s words are spiteful and worthless?
I guess that says a lot about the value of product and service endorsements.
Celebrities are not your personal shoppers.

Pull my lever

Who did I vote for?
Nobody. I voted for nobody.
Hillary took millions from regimes that want my people dead.
Trump is being cheered by people like David Duke who want my people dead.
Bernie is a self-loathing Jew who took on advisors that want my people dead.
Dr. Jill is a self-loathing Jew who cheered people who want my people dead.
Gary wanted to turn his back on my people and let them die.
Pardon me a moment while I say: fuck you all.
Go ahead. Top that. Make your excuses.
I fucking dare you. Pull my lever, asshole.

Get out… the vote

Every election, celebrities plead for people to register to vote.
Then, they plead for people to vote.
After a few days, they endorse a candidate and please for people to vote for that candidate.
Then, they insult and berate the people who won’t vote for that candidate.
Finally, they threaten to leave the country if their candidate doesn’t win.
So, when their candidate loses, will they actually leave the country?
I hope so. After all, they’re going to demolish their mansions and build affordable housing for their fans too, right?
No? They’ll just come back in four years?
Selfish assholes.

Doctor Odd Voting

Doctor Odd didn’t bother voting because he was vastly superior to the countless millions of other people in the country.
He was a brilliant mad scientist, and instead of wasting his time waiting in line or marking a ballot, he used his massive fortune to buy candidates.
Those who resisted corruption were replaced with his willing clones or cybernetic slaves.
Or he just hacked the voting machines to give him the results he wanted.
In the end, the election didn’t offer the masses any real choice.
Except for whether to carry a pitchfork or a torch while storming his castle.

Writing Without Writing

If it looks like I haven’t written anything, it’s because I’ve been using a brush to paint my writing on a wall that I’ve already painted with the same white paint.
Or I’ve written my story in chalk on a white chalkboard.
Red crayon on a red sheet of paper.
Tossing alphabet noodles into a soup, as they float around randomly.
Or tossing Scrabble tiles back into the bag.
Typing a story without any paper in the roller.
On a typewriter with a worn-out ribbon.
Hear the bell, slap the carriage return, and start again with a fresh new line.

Weekly Challenge #683: ZONE

Meow

LIZZIE

A crow perched on a branch of a dead tree. The tree had been dead for a long time.
The crow gazed at the town below. The town was nearly dead. The helipad hadn’t been used in years. The lighthouse was off.
The crow watched as they buried one more. Man, woman?
Six people were left alive. They didn’t know yet, but they would soon be dead, all of them.
The crow perched on the dead tree and watched them.
The town would soon be his and he would finally be able to get rid of this ridiculous crow disguise.

RICHARD

Soup

Looking for inspiration, I threw alphabet soup over the wall to try to make a story.

Needless to say, it didn’t work; and you won’t believe just how much of a mess a single tin of splattered soup can make!

This was going to need a professional clean up job.

I explained to the contractor what I’d done. He took a look and whistled through his teeth.

“It’s like something out of the Twilight Zone”, he said, “Are you safe to be out in public?”

Somewhat frustrated, I replied: “No, probably not”…

And reached behind me for the meat cleaver!

TOM

Slurp

I uses to do ghost lyrics for KISS. Never got any credit. I got paid well, so I really couldn’t care if I got recognition. Like my mom would say: a jobs a job. Nice guys but very particular if a song matches their rather special personae. A lot of my stuff never ended up on a record. My best stuff was a song call Slurp it Up. It was also my last song. The boys liked the overall structure, but they hated the uses of word slurp. Oh well that was a long time ago, we’re all be gray today.

Zone

I have one last video game I still play: Panda PoP. Been at it for three years straight. Cleared level 1168 with three stars on each one. That’s a 100% success rate. The software company has added about 1500 new levels but if I continue good chance I lose that perfect score. So just play every nineth level 149 to 509. Normally it take about 30 lives to make that run, but last night I drop into the zone. Cleared the run with just 10 lives. Funny thing about the zone is you never know when it will form about you.

TURA

Zone
———
In West Drachovia, the peoples are tall, elegant, and noble. In East Drachovia they are nasty, brutish and short. Between lies Choronzön, the Hybrid Zone. Few who enter return, and those that do tell hideous tales.

The Baron Uecxküll, rumored to have hybrid blood himself, scoffed at these. He vowed to thoroughly explore the Zone, leaving no land un-mapped, no monster un-known.

None have news of him, save perhaps his deputies who stoutly manage his estate and presence at court. It is feared that one day, he will emerge leading a monstrous horde, to sweep aside West and East alike.

NORVAL JOE

Linoliumanda shook her head at Wanda and said, “If you expect us to believe you’re an under cover spy, you must come from the twilight zone.”
Wanda waved her hands frantically. “Shut up. There are people everywhere. You’ll blow my cover. If you do that, you’ll find yourself in the danger zone.”
Billbert finally spoke up, “If you two don’t stop arguing we’re all going to be late for class and find ourselves in the principal’s zone.”
Linoliumanda curled her lip as said, “Except for James Bond, here. She’ll just pull a convertible out of her purse and race away.”

PLANET Z

I like pizza, but I like calzones more.
Sure, they’re pretty much just pizzas folded over themselves, but for some reason, I like them more.
And if you squeeze them, they burst and spill hot sauce all over you, but I still like them more.
You can buy one, put it in a box, and it doesn’t matter how rough your ride home is, you won’t end up with a pizza box with toppings and cheese mashed against the top.
Everything stays inside the calzone.
I really ought to buy new shocks for my car.
But I’d rather buy calzones.

Karbach

Karbach is a local craft brewery that’s popular with hipsters.
They make all kinds of unusual brews, and their brewpub features unusual entrees and appetizers that go with their eclectic selection of brews around the country.
They’ve been growing quickly, and selling their beer to popular bars and local grocers, but still have problems meeting demand.
So, the ownership struck a deal with the massive beer corporation Anheuser-Busch, who have been buying out popular local brewers, like Goose Island.
Hipster bars reacted by dumping their inventory of Karbach and cancelling their orders.
The beer may taste smooth, but their reputation is spoiled.

Jared

Jared loved planes.
He studied hard, got a pilot’s license, and took flying lessons.
He talked it all the time.
He saved up his money, and he finally bought his own plane.
He was so proud of it. Told everyone.
Offered to take friends and coworkers for rides.
Signed up for a weekend fair where pilots take kids up for airplane rides.
But on the day he took delivery of his plane, he crashed it, and he died.
They say he died doing what he loved.
I just wonder what would have happened if…
Best not to think about it.