Dead men tell no tales! warns the pirate’s skull as our boat tips down the slide and we float past scene after scene of skeletons, treasure, and wreckage.
Not if you depose them first, I mumble.
The trial is four days away. To get my mind off of this, I went down to Disneyland, like I always do.
New name. New face. New credit cards.
What do I have to worry about?
As I key in my access code to Club 33, a fat man in tourist clothes puts a knife in my back.
My E Ticket just got punched.
George the Camper
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
On paper, he was really good.
His certificate from Pirate Summer Camp.
A sash full of Pirate Scout Merit Badges.
Several bronze medals from the Pirate Olympics.
And a degree in piracy from a well-respected correspondence college.
But on the ship, he was a complete disaster.
He wet the bunk, he broke his cutlass, and his bandanna kept coming loose at the worst times.
“Tie it in the back, you idiot,” said the captain.
Despite repeated attempts to sneak him with hostages, the British Navy kept sending him back.
George the Receipt Guy
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Whenever he pillaged, he gave out receipts so the homeowner could claim the loss on their insurance.
And he was too much of a gentleman to do the whole raping thing.
As for plundering, well, isn’t that just another word for pillaging?
“There’s a difference,” said the captain, pulling out a pair of dictionaries. “One of these, I pillaged. The other, I plundered.”
George pulled out a thesaurus. “Pillage. Plunder, Ransack. Loot.” He snapped the book shut. “They’re all the same thing.”
The captain growled, and threw George overboard.
Weekly Challenge #647 – Addictive
NOTE: I ramble for a bit. Skip ahead to 8 minutes if you don’t want to listen to the ramble.
Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.
This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
We’ve got stories by:
LIZZIE
She was supposed to read those damn books. She did pick one of them up once. Don’t do this, don’t do that.
She looked out the window. It looked bleak. Pollution, you see. And they were worried because she smoked. She was one of the last few who did. Smoking had been banned.
The door opened.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
“What did you read?”
“That one.”
“Good. You may go. Tomorrow, more.”
She nodded meekly.
Now I need a cigarette, she thought.
She wasn’t sure what she was addicted to, whether the cigarettes or just being subversive.
RICHARD
Addictive
This topic comes at a really bad time for me.
At the weekend, someone I’m very close to, and whose odd behaviour I’d been becoming increasingly concerned about, told me they were on the verge of alcoholism. Currently to the tune of three litres of vodka a week.
You do what you can: You counsel, advise, provide a shoulder to cry on, nag, bully and console.
Then sit at home, worrying if they’re OK and whether they’ve given in again to their demons… Because you can’t be there all the time.
And write pointless words that don’t help at all.
CHARLIE
My addictive personality includes several favorite, known addictions of the modern world. Number one is food, two, the bombardment of the nucleus accumbens with a tidal wave of dopamine, and three is gazing upon the sprawling, audacious, naked body of a puppy at playtime.
Addictions are to be refined and honed once they have been narrowed to those that supply the most satisfaction. Some can be refined to the point that they, too, become addictions themselves. A love of food is one thing, but a love of sweets or salty things is another.
You can be addicted to addictions.
#2
Watching Ramsay’s show, Hell’s Kitchen is addictive. I’ve watched four seasons, comprising over fifty or so episodes. I’ve learned many new dishes, made some new “friends” and
“enemies” of those show contestants, and laughed at the antics of the Maitre’d and the Wedding cum Party planner they chose for a couple of the episodes.
I’m fascinated by the assemblage of personalities that are accepted by the show’s producers. There are very short men that have been stunted by organ birth defects, gorgeous, tall blond women that are not shy about showing off their rounder bits in the dorm hot tub, and mouthy black women that shun authority and team cooperation.
TURA
Addictive
———
People complain that computer games are addictive, but that just means that people want to play them. What are we supposed to do, make games no-one wants to play? Apparently so, because we got commissioned to make a game about the dangers of gaming. Of course none of the kids want to play this lead balloon. That’s what non-addictive means, dum-dums.
But it’s popular with parents, teachers, and the whole educational system, because it’s another thing they can make the kids do that they don’t want to do. Like Orwell said, the purpose of power is power, the final addiction.
JEFFREY
Chick-fil-A
by Jeffrey Fischer
A staunch liberal, Nelson boycotted Chick-fil-A over its founders’ views on homosexuality. Then it occurred to him a lot of people seemed to like the chain, and they couldn’t all be right-wing crazies. He ate there to find out why. The long line moved quickly and the friendly cashier wished him a pleasant day. As soon as he bit into his sandwich, he felt warm and content. He returned every day for lunch that week. Surely the evil chain added something addictive to its food. A chemist analyzed the ingredients but found nothing.
Summoning all his willpower, Nelson avoided Chick-fil-A on his next lunch break, stopping instead at a trendy salad place. “Whaddya want?” asked the surly clerk. “Hurry up, I don’t have all day.” Nelson realized what the addictive ingredient was: pleasant, polite staff who treated all customers well.
SERENDIPITY
You can’t blame me for the things that I do. Just because they may be unpleasant, antisocial, immoral and illegal doesn’t automatically make me a bad person.
I have an addictive personality, you see – I can’t help myself – it’s no different to smoking, drugs or porn. Only in my case, I’m addicted to torture and killing.
And there’s nothing you can do about it anyway, because thanks to political correctness gone mad, I can express myself in any way I want. It’s my right and you can’t tell me otherwise.
Try it… And I’ll see you in court!
ASPEN
written by Aspen Gwen Womack-Odanda
Addictive? Many things are known, seen, and recognized as addictive. The un-noticed addictions left from scarred past experience are the worst.
Painfully lived and experienced from a place within unseen by those around you but burn like a brush fire to the very core.
All consuming friends and enemies intertwined that make up an image that gets presented to you, a mere shell, acceptable to the world in a space of unwillingness and unforgiving making it unbearable to breathe.
Outward standards set beyond our means and control creating an addiction to please that traps you in the hamster’s wheel of…Existence!!!!
TOM
Too Cute to Kill
If you’re going to a have an addiction a hand-held video game isn’t a bad
choice. How much money can you really spend through google games? Wear and
tear on the body? Pretty minimal. Loss of family and friends, not likely.
With all that said, I did actually hit bottom on Panda Pop. I was slumped
in a chair in a Panda Pop Den and this ancient magus taps me on the
shoulder to inform me that 1000 new level had been add. I scrolled down to
delete and never looked back. “Hey Mac pour me other red bull and
schnaaps.”
NORVAL JOE
The policeman closed his notebook. “I can see there has been no kidnapping.”
Mr. Withybotham watched the officer leave before scowling his way back into the house.
Linoliumanda grabbed the broom. “Let’s go again. I can’t get enough.”
“I know. It’s addictive,” Billbert said. “But it’s not the broom. It’s me. Hold my hand.”
Tentatively, she took his hand. Like Peter Pan and Wendy they flew up around the maple tree. They landed on the porch just before Mr. Withybotham opened the door to call them in. He frowned. “Why are you holding hands?”
“I’m in Love, Dad,” Linoliumanda gasped.
PLANET Z
the vet found a mass under my cat’s skin.
then another. and two more.
the surgery went well.
stitches and staples on the incisions.
and a protective collar.
we got home and i let her out.
she ate and drank just fine.
kibble, wet food, treats, and a plate with a dollop of whipped cream.
she ate it all up.
she slept on me for a bit.
then it was time for her pain medication.
she took that just fine, too.
and i had a drop of it.
and another. and another.
so. nice.
maybe she needs some more surgery?
George the Extortionist
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
At the local school’s Career Day, George stood alongside a fireman, policeman, a doctor, and a lawyer.
George would try to recruit new cabin boys, but he also sold kidnapping insurance.
“You know, in case pirates take your children hostage,” he said.
He was arrested by the policeman and charged with extortion.
But when George came to trial, the judge dismissed the case.
“Can I have my children back now?” asked the judge.
George shrugged. “I didn’t take them,” he said.
The lawyer grinned. “Oh, that was my idea.”
George the Highwayman
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He spent a lot of time cleaning the mile of freeway that his crew had sponsored as part of the Adopt A Highway Program.
And he was pretty good at keeping it clean.
He posted pictures of the highway on Instagram and Snapchat, gathering lots of followers and fans.
People drove from miles away to litter on that stretch of freeway, only to have it cleaned up by the time they circled back.
Never mind that George was just sweeping everything to the other side of the mile marker.
George’s Unexplained Murders
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
And that’s when the murders began.
First, it was the cook. He was stabbed with his own knives.
Then went Old Beardsley. He was found stuffed into a cannon.
Snake-Eye Pete, Devil Dog, Hooky Joe… they all turned up dead in various humiliating ways.
Pretty soon, all that was left was The Captain and George.
“So, what do you think about my raising the employee deductible for the health program?” asked The Captain.
“Costs are going up,” said George. “Seems fair to me.”
And that’s when the murders stopped.
George’s Merit Badges
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
When he was little, he tried to become a Boy Scout, but they wouldn’t let him in.
So, he joined the Pirate Scouts, but he wasn’t a very good Pirate Scout.
He’d get captured during raids on the Boy Scouts, and they’d earn merit badges by tying George to a tree with various knots.
“That’s an a hitch knot,” said the Scoutmaster. “Well done.”
George also got captured by the Girl Scouts.
They fed him cookies and painted his toenails pink.
If you ask me, that sounds kinda fun.
George the Figurehead
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
So, when the figurehead carving fell off of the ship, his shipmates stuffed him into a dress and tied him to the prow.
George was actually kinda good at that job.
Well, except for the constant screaming and near-drowning, but his shipmates built a breathing helmet that muffled the screaming considerably.
Pretty soon, every ship used their worst crewmember as a figurehead.
Every eight hours, George was untied for a meal break.
As for bathroom breaks, what was the point?
It all ended up in the ocean anyway, right?
George the Pirate Dancer
George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Every opportunity the crew had to get rid of George, they did.
When a television network announced Dancing With The Pirate Stars, they sent George.
George was an excellent dancer.
He knew all of the latest dance moves, and he was in perfect time with his professional dance partner.
“Why don’t you become a professional dancer?” the professional dancers asked him.
“Thanks, but not,” said George. “I like being a pirate.”
He brought home the trophy and three dancers for ransom.
“While we’re waiting,” said George, “care to dance?”