Sure, there’s no crying over spilled milk.
But I’m more concerned about crying over spilled Plutonium.
That’s assuming that your eyes haven’t already bled out of their sockets, or you aren’t dead from the radiation sickness.
I’d suggest not crying over spilled Sulfuric or Hydrofluoric acid, either.
You’ll choke on the fumes and die, or your skin will begin to peel off in sheets.
Crying over pure Sodium will cause it to spark and flash, if it isn’t already catching fire.
So, if you’re going to cry, do me a favor and get the fuck out of my Chemistry lab.
Weekly Challenge #601 – PICK TWO: Meter, Bash, Yell, Iridescent, Goon, Opulent, Mango, Traffic
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:
(It’s International Cat Day!)
LIZZIE
He put his glasses down. The letter had arrived. He half-expected it to be what it was. He didn’t expect it to be that bitter though. What hurt him the most was when she wrote she felt like yelling to the world he was trafficking women into the colony. He was, true, but still… it hurt to see it written down on paper. The lawyer told him she was trouble. But he loved her so much, he didn’t have the heart to kill her. He trafficked her to L-028. It cost him a fortune, because they don’t like humans there.
RICHARD
#1 – Taxonomy
There are few creatures as bizarrely named as the Iridescent Mango Butterfly, which is neither iridescent, nor does it have any connection with the mango.
Also, it’s not a butterfly at all – it’s actually a small, brown, incredibly venomous snake.
Many explanations have been proposed for how a snake could have been so badly classified, but none have been entirely satisfactory, and no one really knows for sure.
I have my own pet theory: I think it’s what that snake wishes to be called… And with something so venomous, nobody is stupid enough to argue the point with it.
#2 – Traffic
My eyes kept darting to the meter on the dashboard, and I cursed the heavy traffic.
This is what you get for waiting to the last minute before leaving for the airport. I’d forgotten the rush hour traffic, and now not only might I miss my plane, but it was going to cost me dear.
I ignored my phone buzzing in my pocket, and – thoroughly fed up – told the cab to stop, and headed for the nearest bar.
I’d get the next flight.
It was only then that I remembered…
I had everyone else’s passports in my luggage!
CHARLIE
The meter would record the impact delivered by the bumper as I bashed the obnoxious pedestrian for bellowing as he blocked my truck. Although he wore an iridescent stripe on his sweatsuit, he ran, carelessly, into the crosswalk from the left.
The goon made an opulent gesture, standing in the crosswalk, and in my path. His mango-pumpkin latte clutched in his hand, he screamed and ranted.
I popped the clutch, hitting him at groin level, breaking his hip and smashing his nads. I slipped away in the dark and bought a big breakfast after washing gore out of my grill.
#2
I suffer in goon traffic twice a day commuting to school. Goon traffic is composed of people that try to grab an extra ten minutes of sleep or five more minutes of makeup or application of hair products.
I rigged a windshield wiper pump to a small hose running through my back bumper. I hit the motor button if anyone is tailgating, and squirt a quart or so of cooking oil mist in front of them.
The oil mist covers their windscreen, and fails to go away when they try to use their window washer. Wetting it makes it worse.
#3
Billed as the OPULENT MANGO, Lulu commanded the stage at Club Bugassi. Lulu could do things that would shame the dancers at The Blue Fox in Tijuana. Sailors on liberty would flock to the Bugassi.
Lulu started her career when she was only sixteen. She lied about her age, and constructed an elaborate backstory that included being left an orphan.
Don Demarco, the club manager, tried to take advantage of Lulu, but she rebuffed his advances and reminded him that she had friends in the mob that would smash in his face and cut off his schwantz if he continued.
TOM
South of Congress
I knew this guy name Mickie who loved to bash parking meter with a 16 pound sledge. Guy had biceps the size of melons. One swing, baam! Kids would follow after him to gather up the spray of Municipal Piñatas. When it got too damn hot on the south side Mickie would open a fire hydrant. You’d think his career would have been curtailed by the local gendarmeries, oh contraire mon ami. He ran and won a seat in city council, Alderman Mickie they called him. Got all the park meters removed and got four community swim pools built.
Just a breath away
Lilly was a most unusual child. A quiet grace and a searing sense of propose. Her secret garden was a local haven for hordes of butterflies. “Do you hear that?” She would ask of selected visitors. Most would smile, give fanciful accounts of an ethereal natural. Few passed the initial test, so few survived the attack of a million butterfly wings. The song she sang to her flock was sweetness dipped in daggers, she called it her Iridescent Yell. Then she would giggle and add it was an invitation to supper. You have no idea how voracious an appetite a butterfly has.
SARAH
How very apt that this a ‘birthday bash’!
It is, after all, your birthday and I am going to thoroughly enjoy giving you a good bashing.
It’s your own fault… You really should have invited me; and the look of disdain you gave me when I arrived made it clear I was an unwelcome guest.
So, I’ve waited until now with your gift. Don’t you just love party games that see you locked in a dark cupboard with your nemesis?
So yell all you like – no-one will hear.
And let’s see how you like your new baseball bat!
JON
Sea Song
By
Jon DeCles
Oh, rock me in the deep, where the big rocks sway beneath their coats of green and slimy moss, the cool cold deep where the fishes dream and the crabs click their claws and the shrimp make little popping songs while the big whales moan happily about their long journeys, sharing the up and down of their deep scales with the up and down of their swim, big back fins propelling them until they break and blow and steam like geysers on a rolling landscape where all is water and there is no rocky ground: rock me like a whale.
Hating the Nasty Parking Meter
By
Jon DeCles
With an iridescent yell, Alice the Goon bashed the parking meter again and again. She stood in fury beside the stream of Hollywood traffic, wondering how, on a night when the Moon was as opulent and gibbous as a celestial mango, anything could be so totally frustrating. Popeye had given her all the change from his pockets, but none of it fitted in the little slots.
She looked more closely at the coins.
The pictures were all wrong. They seemed to be from the State of Las Vegas. She started to bash again, then decided to drive back to Toontown.
JEFFREY
The Big Game
by Jeffrey Fischer
Traffic was horrendous to the big game but, after parking our RV, we made it to our $200 nosebleed seats in time. I went for food and drink. The only line that wasn’t two-dozen deep was the health food kiosk. Health food at a stadium? Whatever happened to nachos and $15 gassy beers? I bought a pair of mango-spinach smoothies in iridescent green. My companion took one look and started yelling at me. I sucked on the straw and spat out the viscous liquid. My team lost by three touchdowns. They don’t make big games the way they used to.
NORVAL JOE
Here’s his first story:
Axel stumbled back to the family’s cube. His parents were in the living room, eating dinner.
His mother looked his way as he entered, and said, “I didn’t synthesize your dinner. I wasn’t sure when you’d be home.”
His father didn’t look away from the Entertainment Screen.
Axel stood a meter away from his parents, and they couldn’t see that he’d been beaten within a hair’s breadth of his life. He wanted to yell and jump up and down, just to get them to acknowledge his existence. It wasn’t worth it. He would just find some other place to live.
And here is story number two.
The invasion began so small, and unnoticeable beneath the awareness of most of the humans, that by the time they realized the creatures were upon them, it was too late.
First one, then another, then more and more until thousands joined the first wave of intruders. They crowded the streets, bashing into fences and walls. Stopping traffic as they made their way to the center of town, howling and barking, and gnashing their vicious teeth on anything but one another.
They left as suddenly as they had come, and no one knew why. They were, after all, only wiener dogs.
LAIEANNA
That meathead Max flipped his shit again yesterday when the parking
meter sprung “time expired”, startling him as he passed. Using brute
strength, Max tore the device out of the ground, waving it wildly at
traffic as he yelled. A volks was bashed before I could come to the
rescue with my iridescent mango. Its sparkle and shine caught Max’s
attention. The big goon followed my opulent fruit off the streets and
I led him home where I handed the jewel over to pacify his lunatic
rage. I still had plenty left over in my bag for the art showcase.
DUANE
Iridescent Mango
The rise of Iridescent Mango is like any other electronic rock band. The opulent lifestyle. The bashing up hotel rooms. The fighting with the paparazzi. What few people know is that the band was a cover for an evil scheme hatched by the lead synth player. While the audience was enjoying calming rhythms and synthetic melodies, hired goons would be at their homes rolling their electricity meters forward. By the time anyone noticed, the band was long gone with a cut from the power company. Yet this was just to cover up their illegal trafficking in My Little Pony collectibles.
PLANET Z
I remember the first time I heard of The Goon Show.
I was a preschooler, wandering through the public library, looking for books about Popeye the Sailor.
I’d wandered out of the Children’s section and found a book that had “Goon” in the title.
Goons were those weird monsters in Popeye, right?
I opened the book, but instead of Popeye, it was a bunch of words and some photos of three old men around a microphone.
I put the book back and kept looking. Eventually, I found a book about clowns.
Well, one clown. Named Pennywise.
I never slept again.
Gambling Problem
Dan had a streak of bad luck at the underground casino.
Eighty thousand dollars in the hole.
He threatened to tell the cops about the underground casino.
The owner put Dan in the hospital.
By the time Dan came to, the casino had already packed up and vanished.
The cops found an empty warehouse.
Owned by nobody. No record at all.
When Dan finally got released, his house was on fire.
His car smashed up. Everything was gone.
He’d been gone so long, his job had let him go.
You can find him under the freeway, throwing dice and laughing.
Add vs Create
I got into a discussion over the use of the words “add” and “create” at work.
You know, because when you add something, you’re adding it to something else.
And when you create something, you’re making something completely new.
I used Frankenstein and his monster as an example.
“Frankenstein created his monster,” I said. “He didn’t add his monster.”
Of course, then Frankenstein told Igor to throw the switch, he didn’t mean for Igor to literally throw the switch.
He meant for Igor to close the electrical circuit.
To add the power of electricity, and bring his creation to life.
Stormvale
It’s strange, living in the shadow of Castle Stormvale.
Especially because The Silver Horde destroyed Castle Stormvale a decade ago.
The castle may be gone, but the shadow is still there.
Makes it hard to raise crops, but we manage.
When we saw the castle come down, we thought “Oh, maybe more light will get through.”
And then The Silver Horde pillaged all the nearby farms.
Somehow, we managed to clean up and replant.
Even used a few stones from the castle’s ruins to build walls for a nice sheep pen.
The shade is kinda nice in the summer, really.
The Bridge of Frankenstein
The townspeople were outraged by the local mad scientist’s latest abomination.
“How dare he do this?”
“Has the man no shame?”
They gathered their torches and pitchforks, and they marched to Castle Von Frankenstein in an angry mob.
As they crossed the moat to the front gate, a few stopped and looked at the drawbridge they were walking across.
Then, they pounded on the gates, demanding entry.
Eventually, they talked to Dr. Frankenstein, and they realized it was all a simple, honest mistake.
“I’m constructing a bride to marry,” he said. “Not a bridge.”
Satisfied, the townspeople went back home.
The lovely audience
The Beatles start Sergeant Pepper with: “You’re such a lovely audience, we’d like to take you home with us!”
And, on occasion, they did. They took the lovely audience home with them.
Some audiences, they let romp in the yard and play in the sun.
Other audiences, they threw into the basement and forced to make shoes for sale at Selfridge’s Department Store.
The worst audiences were fed to Yoko.
The diminutive performance artist would tear her victims limb from limb, drinking their blood and swallowing their ropy intestines.
Then she’d sing, and the few mangled survivors envied the dead.
Melvin’s door
When Melvin went Trick or Treating, he’d come up with the most surreal costumes.
One year, he walked around behind a lightweight carbon-fiber front door, and at every home he’d visit, he’d make them ring his doorbell to get candy.
Once he ran out of candy, he’d turn off the battery-powered porch light and hide behind the door to pretend that nobody was home.
Bullies tried to egg his front door and smash his pumpkins, but Melvin turned the water hose on them.
After Halloween, Melvin would harass Jehovah’s Witnesses, going door-to-door with his door, slamming it in their faces.
Weekly Challenge #600 – Rock
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:
GINGER
Rock
The age-old debate – can girls rock???
(“…me and the boys are playing…” – Kiss) …There would be nothing wrong with a girl playing with boys.
(“…oh, won’t you please take me home?” – Guns N’ Roses) …Doesn’t every girl want someone to drive her to her door?
(“…I’d hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain…” – Kiss) …Expresses motherly concern for an infink, don’t doubt.
(“…all we need is just a little patience…” – Guns N’ Roses) …Patience is one of the seven virtues. *Note to self: Sabr is a cornerstone of Islamic faith which pertains to fasting. Again, these are fragile ties but they can be drawn.
Yes. I have decided gender is ambiguous when it comes to heavy metal ballads.
TOM
We Salute You
It was just down the road from the dawn of Podcasting 2004. At the time I had collected 3000 midis during the previous decade. So I did this show called: Midi. After 10 years I hit my goal of a million download. Thought to closing it out then, but I’m pretty lazy. So I let it ride. A few weeks ago I get this email from Libsyn that I need to more my billing info to a new account. Of course this email is bit postdated, so when I go to the site I get a 404. So much for customer loyalty.
CHARLIE
Rock Hard. Good diet and lots of sleep are key. To build muscles, strength, and stamina the trick is a balanced diet and enough sleep.
A diet of grade B Western movies and sleep walking through a mundane job will keep a man less interesting, uncreative and in a torpor. A job better done by a robot or a chimp turns the mind into over-ripe squash.
Challenge yourself, as someone else that intelligently challenges you is rare.
Learn something new every day, and read widely across disciplines.
Don’t be sold a bill of goods by phony, self-credentialed “experts”, and narcissists.
LIZZIE
The idea of going back was unbearable. Summer had been wonderful. Work was a distant place. She had forgotten about David, the pervert, John, the sloth, and Lewis, the hippie who didn’t bathe enough. She stared at a few seashells, tokens of moments she would cherish forever. David said she would get bored by herself. He was so wrong. John advised her not to get a sunburn, and Lewis just smiled, stoned. Everyone thought she was too fragile. Perhaps she was, yes. But she decided she wasn’t going back. And she held that small rock in her hand and smiled.
RICHARD
#1 – Rock a bye
Rock a bye baby, on the tree top…
Wait a minute! How the hell did you get up there?
Don’t tell me; you were kidnapped by marauding squirrels? Now they’re holding you for ransom – your body weight in acorns?
No? Did you fell out of a passing jetliner and were fortunate enough to land safely in those branches? Unlikely.
Were you dumped there by a stay tornado, abandoned by cruel parents, or did you crawl up there on your own?
I guess we’ll never know, since you can’t talk.
Take care that bough doesn’t break.
Oh dear, too late!
#2 – Grandpa rocks!
Grandfather was a rock musician – he’d throw large stones at inanimate objects to produce rhythmic percussion.
We asked him, “Why not just play the drums?”
“Drums is for wimps. Real men play the rocks.”
We’d have left it at that, until he started hurling stones at the neighbour’s windows, and then at the neighbours themselves.
He was charged with assault, and got sent down for three months.
When I visited, I asked how the music was working out. He told me he’d quit…
“I’ve gone into serving booze now… In fact, I spend almost all my time behind bars!”
SERENDIPITY
I know where you keep the spare key – it’s under that rock, next to the front door. I also know that now you’re aware I know, you’re going to move it to some new hiding place.
Too late, my friend.
I made a copy.
Of course, now you’re going to go and change that lock, aren’t you? You may as well do the other doors too. After all, you can’t be too careful with someone like me lurking in the dark.
It won’t help you.
Remember that rock by the front door?
I just lobbed it through your window…
JEFFREY
The Hot Rock
by Jeffrey Fischer
Hank examined the rock carefully. “Looks like a real diamond to me,” he said to the rest of the gang, who had just liberated the ring from the Horowitz’s bedroom.
“How would you know?” sneered Luther. “All of a sudden you’re an expert on real and fake diamonds?”
“I just know, okay,” Hank said. “But fine, we’ll get an expert to take a look. So the gang looked up the location of the nearest jewelery shop and piled into their car. The jeweler took out his loupe and examined the rock carefully. He looked up at Hank and slowly shook his head. “A good job, but it’s costume jewelry. Worth maybe $200.”
The gang exchanged glances. Now what?
“Tell you what, guys,” the jeweler said. “I’ll pay you $150 for it. I’m pretty sure I can resell it for a little profit.”
After the gang left, the jeweler called the homeowner, a long-standing customer. “Mrs. Horowitz? I have your diamond ring back, and some good closed-circuit pictures of the thieves.”
TURA
Rock
———
I gave up eating meat, because animals suffer. Then I realised that plants also are alive, and resolved to subsist only on inorganic nutrients. But are not even rocks alive? They wear and crack from rain and frost. We burrow into them like maggots, mining for iron and oil. We grind them for concrete. Would they not scream, if only they could?
Then consider their atoms, imprisoned in crystal lattices. This world is made of suffering, all the way down.
And that is why I seek the key to unravel all of creation, and return it to the pure void.
NORVAL JOE
Axel tried to scoot away from the security officer’s prod but found his way blocked by heavy crates.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just waiting for a friend,” Axel said.
The officer jabbed the prod into Axel’s thigh. His entire leg lost all sensation. He rocked to the side and rolled onto his stomach, trying to push away with his one good leg. The prod jabbed into his back and the lower half of his body went numb.
“Don’t lie to me,” the officer growled and kicked Axel hard in the ribs.
And everything went dark.
LAIEANNA
I hadn’t expected a rant when sitting by the man as old as time before
time. We both stared at my phone where I was scrolling through songs.
I opted to ignore him with a song to tune him out. He continued his
tirade on the disappointment of the music of today, growing louder and
slightly more annoyed.
His pause is what caught my attention again. Feebly picking up a rock
only to drop it back down, the old man tapped his foot to the rhythmic
thumps of the rock rolling downhill. Pointing, he cackled, “Now
that’s rock and roll.”
DUANE
Rock
It was the summer of 1975 and everyone had a pet rock but me. We were too poor to buy one so I had to hunt down a wild one. After hours of skipping from stone to stone, I found the one for me. I stalked my quarry as it tried to hide among the gravel. I grabbed it and held it up for a better look. It was a gem. I named it Jagger and took it everywhere I went. I made it costumes for Easter and Halloween. To make sure it never got lost I had it chipped.
PLANET Z
One village had caused problems for our patrol.
Kids throwing rocks at us.
We’d stop, and the kids would scatter.
After a few days of this, the rock-throwing stopped, and a video appeared on YouTube.
There’s us driving by, the kids throwing rocks.
Then, spliced in, men dressed up in uniforms similar to ours beating up the kids and shooting them.
When kids in another village started throwing rocks, a second patrol spotted the cameraman.
He shouted “First Amendment! Free Press!”
We shot him. And we shot his compatriots in the fake uniforms.
The kids threw rocks at their corpses.
Impossible
My wife, she’s impossible.
She couldn’t come up with a good costume for Halloween.
So, I told her to go as someone who doesn’t dress up for Halloween.
Which, technically, is impossible. Because if you dress up as someone who doesn’t dress up for Halloween, you’ve dressed up as someone for Halloween.
Still, she tried, and the resulting paradox tore a hole in the fabric of space and time.
“Wow, that looks totally awesome,” I said to the rent in the universe.
“I don’t know,” she said. “Does this make my ass look fat?”
Which is impossible to answer correctly.