My father died about a year ago.
I have no idea what was done with his body.
Some creep from the hospital kept calling about it.
“We need to know what to do with the body.”
“Take it home for Thanksgiving dinner.”
“WHAT?”
“Not to eat. That would be sick. Just sit him at the table.”
“WHAT?”
“Come on, that’s less sick than eating him. I think. Just don’t expect him to say grace.”
I don’t remember what happened after that.
I blocked him like all the other callers and turned off my phone.
And picked up pizzas for Thanksgiving.
Weekly Challenge #966 – PICK TWO Throwaway, Flight, Once more with passion!, Blood pressure, Engine, Roast
NORVAL JOE
Mrs. Withybottom shouted from upstairs, “Father’s awake and he’s thrashing around.”
At her voice, a butler stepped into the entry and frowned.
Linoliamanda asked, “What shall we do?”
Billbert took out his phone, “I’m calling an ambulance.”
An eternity later, a fire engine and ambulance roared up the drive. The paramedics raced up the stairs with a stretcher.
Huddled below the stairs, they clearly heard one of the medics shout, “His blood pressure is falling. We need to get him to the hospital right now.”
Moments later they were hurrying down the stairs with Mr. Withybottom strapped to the gurney.
SERENDIPIDY
I had no idea what the smell was, but although it was rather strong, it wasn’t particularly unpleasant, and it wasn’t the sort of smell you’d normally associate with car problems.
So, I simply carried on driving, anxious to get home and start cooking supper for the family.
Finally, I pulled into the driveway and got out of the car.
The smell was much stronger now, and it seemed to be coming from the engine bay.
Turned out to be some sort of animal… Cat, dog, fox? I really couldn’t tell.
Perfectly roast, on the engine block.
That’s supper sorted!
TOM
Stress Test Lungs on Fire.
The doctor through away the first EKG. He cried “Once more with passion! “, the treadmill rose towards the ceiling. I became quite light headed, a flight of angles circling round my eyes. Giant gears spun below my feet like some medieval engine of the inquisition demanding truth rooting out my paper-thin cover story. “Blood pressure nearly at critical Escape velocity, breaking free from the gravitational pull of our celestial body.” Yelled the nurse over the roar of the wind. “My toast, will be roast, If you crank that infernal machine an angle higher.” I gasped. Somewhere a fuse blow.
LIZZIE
The very moment the Ferris wheel started rotating, there was this weird grumbling sound, followed by a sharp metallic groan. He yelled “get me out of here” to no avail. His blood pressure hit the roof when he heard a snapping sound. That was it, he was going to die. The wheel tilted to one side and crashed against the rocks. Yes, “thank you, god, I just broke my back, my legs and an arm, but I’ll be fine”. Why, you may ask. Well, insurance. A fortune. He never told anyone about that wrench he had stuck in the engine.
RICHARD
— Fear of Flying —
I’ve always been terrified of flying.
I know you can probably quote statistics that say it’s safer than crossing the road, or more people die from being kicked by donkeys than in plane crashes, but I really don’t find that reassuring.
As far as I’m concerned, there’s a million things that can go horribly wrong on a flight. What if an engine were to catch fire, or the plane were to be taken over by terrorists?
It’s not as if you can take cover, or make a hasty exit to safety!
Perhaps I shouldn’t have chosen to be a pilot!
PLANET Z
I barely drive my car, and when I drive it, I don’t go too far.
It’s a plug-in hybrid, and I’m almost always driving on electric.
I barely go a thousand miles a year.
I get an alert that my car is five months overdue for maintenance.
I dismiss it, but there’s a little icon on the dash with a warning symbol.
It’s not a check engine light or a low tire pressure alert, so everything is fine.
If it’s not, the car wouldn’t start, and I can call the shop to come pick it up and fix the problem.
Count Your Blessings
Unlike Count Dracula, Count Your Blessings is a good vampire.
He’s polite and loves children.
Not in a “drink their blood” kind of way, either.
But as in a pay for their education and sponsor softball teams kind of way.
The smart ones, he sends to college to study engineering and technology.
His castle is a hotbed of science and innovation.
He doesn’t drink the blood of any innocents.
He only drinks the blood of the criminals we bring to him.
Speeding is just a fine for a first-time offense.
Here’s your ticket.
And I suggest you not speed again.
Mel
Everyone knows that Mel Brooks hired Richard Pryor for Blazing Saddles, but the studio couldn’t get the drug addicted Pryor insured, so Mel had to hire Cleavon Little to be the sheriff while Richard wrote the movie.
But do you know that Mel wrote all the black jokes and Richard wrote all the Jewish jokes?
Then, when asked, they took credit for each others writing.
Because, you know, racism.
And what better to write than a false narrative?
Well, these days, you wouldn’t know.
Mel tends to take credit for everything.
Well, anything that he didn’t do with Carl Reiner.
Doctor West
Every doctor at the West Clinic is named Eric West.
Yes, that’s very odd.
Personal records were destroyed in the fire that destroyed the clinic.
And the doctors’ bodies were burned beyond recognition.
No photos, no records in any medical school of having graduated an Eric West.
The lone surviving patient describes Dr. West as tall, lean, pale, bald, glasses, and a cane.
“All of them,” he wheezed. “Every one of them.”
Nobody is sure what the clinic was for.
Some say it was a lunatic asylum. For violent criminals.
Um, where did that patient go?
He was just here.
The price of meat
So, the pandemic made everyone stay at home.
Except for essential workers, in hospitals and the police and all that.
But also those dealing with food supplies.
Still not everyone was safe.
Meat processors and other suppliers were occasionally shut down when their workers tested positive.
Same with fuel and trucking.
This drove the price of meat up.
To the point that plant-based meat substitutes were now cheaper than real meat.
Despite the price and the health benefits, people still wanted meat.
Looking at their cats and dogs, wondering…
Does that canned cat food and dog food taste any good?
Detention center
Here at the detention center, we pride ourselves on efficiency.
It used to take a stack of paperwork to process a subject, but we’ve reduced the number of forms necessary, eliminating as much as possible through digital records.
And we’re testing a fully-automated process.
No paperwork, all biometrics-based and handed by robots and conveyor belts.
Officers drop the subjects off.
They get scanned and fitted into a cart, moved through every step in the system until their ashes are dropped in a container for transfer to the pit.
Sometimes, they resist. Like you did.
Get back in the cart. Now.
Mister Sandman
Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream.
But not just any dream will do.
The dreams you’ve been bringing me lately haven’t been dreams at all.
They’ve been nightmares. Really sick, awful nightmares.
I’d like to have dreams, like when I was young.
Also, I’d like for you to bring the dreams while I’m asleep.
Not when I’m awake.
That’s not a dream. Or a nightmare.
That’s called a hallucination.
Those make it hard to deal with things.
Especially while I’m driving.
So, to summarize:
Bring me a dream. At night. While I’m asleep.
Or I will be your worst nightmare.
Weekly Challenge #965 – Classical Music
The next topic is PICK TWO Throwaway, Flight, Once more with passion!, Blood pressure, Engine, Roast
RICHARD
– Mr Dobbs –
I first encountered classical music in primary school. As we gathered together for morning assembly, Mr Dobbs – one of the teachers – would play something from his own collection to accompany us.
The name of the piece, composer and date were always written on a flipchart on the stage, and I soon knew a bunch by heart.
As for Mr Dobbs: We derived endless pleasure, watching him bob about to the music, humming along to the tunes, oblivious to our stares.
These days, if I hear one of those pieces. I picture Mr Dobbs, and I bob along, just like him.
LIZZIE
She couldn’t find her violin. She shuffled through the pile of bags waiting to be placed in the train. Where’s the violin? Where is it? She ran around like a lunatic, grabbing people’s arms and repeating the question over and over again. In the distance, a man walked away with a violin case. Why not? She had rejected him. She had mocked him, saying she had played him like a fiddle. Really? So, he was taking the fiddle. No more fiddling with people’s feelings. She would have to face the music, and it wouldn’t be the classical version of it.
TOM
By far the best piano movement
I tend to like more modern Classic music. And I am partial to works with piano and full orchestra. Wedding Day at Troldhaugen by Edvard Grieg. Erik Satie Gymnopédie No. 1. Aquarium by Camille Saint-Saëns. Sergei Rachmaninoff’s Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini. Liszt Les Préludes, symphonic poem No 3, S 97 1. Hans Zimmer’s Time from Inception. All excellent works, but for me the work that moves be the deepest is Prokofiev Piano Concerto No. 1 in D-flat Major, Op. 10. The first movement is like a runaway train. It sores upward taking my soul with it. Pure Bliss.
SERENDIPIDY
It’s a fact that music can influence the manner in which we approach activities.
I’m told that many surgeons like to have classical music piped into theatre when they’re conducting surgery. Apparently it promotes calm and helps them to focus on the job at hand.
Athletes train to upbeat, motivational songs, and we’re advised to avoid playing loud, heavy rock music when driving, since it promotes speed and risk-taking.
Personally, I like to listen to thrash metal, when I’m conducting surgery.
Not because I like it, or I’m a sloppy worker.
But it’s perfect for drowning out the screams!
NORVAL JOE
The gravel crunched beneath Billbert’s feet as he walked from the road to the Withybottom’s mansion. He could see from the steps that the front door stood slightly open.
At the doorstep Billbert heard classical music filtering down from the upper floor. He poked his head inside and called, “Mandi. Are you here?”
Rapid footsteps hurried down the stairs and Linoliamanda was shooshing Billbert with a finger to her lips. “Daddy’s asleep and mother doesn’t want us to wake him.”
Billbert shook his head. “I can’t believe you still have him at home. He needs to be in the hospital.”
PLANET Z
The terraforming vessels landed and remade the planet, taking centuries to clear the alien landscape and chemistry, replacing it with the species and oceans and forests of home.
Fabrication vessels landed, mining ores, building machinery and housing.
A sleeper vessel landed next.
Environment-suited experts tested the atmosphere and soil to confirm habitability.
Confirmed. Success.
The rest of the colony ships landed, and the new population set about populating their new home.
One administrator went to his terminal and requested Bach.
But all that played was static.
It would be decades before the request was received, and many more for fulfillment.
Dead in a closet
My grandfather ran a chain of drycleaning stores.
One hour drycleaners in Cermak Plaza.
He was known for keeping a monkey in a cage.
“We don’t monkey with your business?” a sign said.
While the monkey whacked off.
He took it for a walk, and it bit a woman.
We ended up with the cage.
And put a guinea pig in it.
For a week.
It crawled out through the food dish gate and cut its leg, bleeding to death in a closet.
I remember screaming with tears, but the strange thing is, I don’t remember it having a name.