Gifts of the Magi

I used to demand lots of toys for Christmas.
So, my parents read me “The Gift of the Magi.”
That’s where a woman sells her hair to buy a chain for her husband’s pocketwatch, and the husband sells his pocketwatch for a set of brushes for his wife.
“Her hair grew back, right?” I said.
“That’s not the point,” said my parents. “It’s the thought that counts.”
So, I thought about it a lot.
And I sold my dad’s pocketwatch.
I was going to sell my mom’s hair, but she caught me trying to cut it off while she slept.

Santa’s Lights

Every year, we put up a Christmas tree.
Even though we have enough ornaments with which to decorate a tree, we always buy more.
A new set of shiny balls… another box of tinsel…
And lights. So many strings of lights.
From bulbs to LEDs, simple lights and patterned lights.
We have enough lights for an airport runway.
If you strung all of the lights end to end, they would reach the North Pole.
So, we try it. And sure enough, they reach the North Pole.
“Turn those off,” growls Santa. “I’m trying to sleep.”
And he closes his blinds.

Weekly Challenge #607 – First

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:

Annoyed Myst

RICHARD

#1 – First!

I’ve spent my entire life trying not to be first at anything. First in the class, first in line, first past the post… I’d do anything to avoid that distinction.

People wonder why. ‘Have you no ambition, no aspirations?’ Of course! Just not the ones everyone thinks I should.

And I’ve good reasons for it too.

Not trying to be first and top of the pile means less effort, less competition and fewer disappointments. It’s an altogether easier life.

Especially at the airport, where being last is the gold standard. Because last on the plane means your baggage comes off…

First!

#2 – First Questions
I hate those stupid questions about your ‘firsts’ in life:

‘What was the first record you bought?’, ‘First crush?’, ‘First kiss?’

As if it matters; if I can remember that far back in the first place! I’m sure most people make the answers up, picking one that makes them sound cool…

“Ah yes, my first album was The Stones” – yeah right!

But the real reason I hate those questions is that they bring back awful memories: Reminders of embarrassing music, fumbled encounters, and moments I’d really like to forget.

Because we all know, the first time is never the best.

#3 – Better Half
I always introduce my spouse as ‘my first wife’ – she hates it, but it keeps her on her toes. The nagging seed of doubt that I’ve sown in her mind that one day I might just trade her in for a newer, better, more aesthetically pleasing model means she won’t take any chances when it comes to behaving herself.

You may think it somewhat callous, but I take the view, ‘all’s fair in love and war’, and a little callousness on my part goes a long way towards maintaining the status quo.

Till death do us part…

Or maybe sooner!

CHARLIE

It was my first try at biohacking, namely, hacking my brain. My biohacking began with some off the shelf nootropics and a gradual transition to my custom stack of compounds.

I had a level of focus never experienced, and was able to maintain it for extended periods. I could crank out graphics, edit photos, or do other technical tasks for hours on end.

After six months, I got muscle spasms and experienced some brain fog, so I cut doses by thirty percent. Everything settled down and I was hyper alert and relaxed at the same time.

Ever feel that way?

#2

My pal, Gordon, is a mechanical and electrical engineer. We have constructed and prototyped the first wearable that functions as a “prodder”. It randomly pokes a pneumatically powered, finger sized goad into the head to remind the wearer to pay attention and stop fuggin around.

It is battery operated, ultimately programmable, light, durable, and easy to set up and initialize. Default settings have been tested to operate at optimum levels.

We have been wearing test units for a couple of weeks and have discovered that a little thump on the cranium does wonders by keeping us focused and on task.

LIZZIE

At the strike of 1am, the majestic structure imploded neatly.
Perplexed eyes witnessed the destruction of the oldest building in town, home to wise men, advisers to many generations.
Suddenly, a voice asked “Why was this done at 1am? I need my beauty sleep.”
The crowd turned to see who had broken the sacred silence.
An old man holding a crutch waved a crooked walking-stick.
“So, are we done? Lesson number one, life goes on. Get used to it.” And he walked away.
The “Welcome” sign slid slowly to the ground, a shy cloud of dust lingering in the air.

SERENDIPITY

I remember my first time like it was yesterday.

The sweet ferrous smell of blood; the sticky warmth oozing through my fingers.

I remember the screams, then sudden silence, the soft gurgle of the death rattle, the thump of my own heartbeat, gradually slowing to its normal rhythm.

I remember the elation and the quiet sense of satisfaction you only find in a job well done.

They say that you never forget your first time, and it’s so very true.

Although, I have to say, that I’ve always found it a terrible shame that the police never forget it either.

TOM

Undeniable

First comes the pain. Nearly imperceptible, at first, growing in intensity, drawing more waking attention to greater levels of compensation. Long before seeking drugs to make it through the day, you think a joint agreement between your joints and the signals firing in your head is negotiable. When cycles give way to a single wobbling wave, your heart knows it is time, if only your head would listen. In the end some simple action becomes undoable and your head now know this is merely the first. You call the surgeons office to get on the wait list for knee replacement.

Number One is a Bullet
Americans are weird. We only acknowledge two states: Coming in first. And coming in next. The first being singular. The second vast and all encompassing. Perhaps we would have a different outlook if we had lost a war. Will we have, but you will never hear an American admitted it. This first or nothing is sort of a dysfunction insanity. We are so willing to discount a season of effort, a decade of effort, in some cases a lifetime of effort to being just not good enough, that somehow inherent in the American soul is a birth right of victory.

JEFFREY

Lobster Salad
by Jeffrey Fischer

One of the great mysteries of life was the identity of the brave man or woman who first dared to eat a lobster.

Ivor and his crewmate, Stephen, landed safely on the planet Xaphorus and scouted for food, as their supplies were running low. Starvation was setting in when Stephen found a lobster – or the Xaphorean equivalent – in shallow water.

“Who wants to go first?” asked Stephen.

“Oh, I’ll give it a try. What’s the worst that can happen? We’re starving anyway.” Ivor sliced open the creature and cooked it with his laser tool, taking a bite while it was still hot. “Delicious,” he said.

Stephen looked suspiciously at his crewmate, but took one bite, then another. A loud thump behind him turned out to be Ivor, falling to the ground, dead. Stephen soon followed suit. The second expedition learned to avoid the lobsters.

NORVAL JOE

Many people believe that naming your child Porkchop was a fad of hippy parents from the sixties. It’s true, I was born in nineteen sixty and five other boys in my graduating class had the same name. But, I wasn’t the first in my genealogy to bare that name.
My great-grandfather, and his father had the blessed title and traced it back centuries to Sir Porkchop Gillywinger, first earl of East Wiffypuddle. A little known apocryphal text from the second century, says a fourth wise man named Porkchopshazar started with the other three but became lost due to night blindness.

DUANE

First

Who was the first to catch my eye as I crashed headlong into puberty? Maybe Samantha with that cute little nose twitch, or Jeannie, the original “hips don’t lie” girl. It could have been Betty Ruble or Josie. Josie was in a band and that was cool. Veronica was also in a band, but I always felt Veronica was out of my league. What about Batgirl or Barbara Gordon? Batgirl. She had a motorcycle and spandex. Charlie’s Angels was not a choice at all. Jill all the way, and, yes, I had the poster.

So many women, so little words.

TURA

First
———
I knew the first man to run a mile in one minute. His bones were made of nano-woven buckytubes, his blood was completely synthetic, and more of his brain was in the computing cloud than his skull. His heart and lungs were machines, and the membranes supporting his internal organs were spider-silk synthesized by his own genetically modified cells. But I can get in a car and do the mile in 30 seconds, so what’s the point?

They say that in the end, so much of his brain was in the cloud that his owners just shut off the body.

PLANET Z

The longest journey begins with the first step.
I stood at the bottom of a crystal staircase, looking up.
It went up for as far as I could see. I could not see the top,
How far did it go? Did it reach the clouds? Did it reach the stars?
The strange old man in the village wouldn’t tell me.
“Many have tried,” he said. “But none have returned alive.”
I lifted my foot… and…
I walked over to the crystal elevator, and I pushed the call button.
I sat down on the grass and waited… and waited… and waited…

Fat Freddy

Every year, Fat Freddy Lawson would dress up in his Santa costume and go out to the park, spreading Christmas cheer.
However, after the heart attack, Fat Freddy went on a diet and exercised, and he wasn’t fat anymore.
The costume hung loosely on him, and stuffing his pants with a pillow didn’t look quite right.
So, he gave his costume to Fat Tony.
Fat Tony looked the part, but he got a little too playful with kids in the park, and the cops arrested him.
Freddy made a note to teach the next Santa how not to get caught.

Santa and the heart

I remember when a little deaf girl sat in Santa’s lap, but Santa didn’t speak sign language, the girl mumbled incomprehensibly, and she was signing too quickly for her mother to translate.
“Can she just write it down?” said Santa, handing a pad and pen to the girl.
She drew a heart.
So, Santa told one of his helper elves to stand still, and he punched the elf in the chest and tore out his heart, showing it to him before he died.
“Will this do?” said Santa.
The girl shrieked and cried.
“Well, I understood that,” said Santa. “NEXT!”

George asks Santa

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
That’s good as in skilled, not good as in a good person.
Even Santa had to admit that George was a good person.
“You’re on my nice list, George,” said Santa. “That’s rather surprising, because every other pirate is on my naughty list.”
“And did you get my wishlist?” said George.
“Yes,” said Santa. “A new hat.”
“One that won’t blow off of my head in a strong wind, right?” said George.
“Yes, yes,” said Santa. “Now get off of my lap, your cutlass is digging into my leg!”

George and the mall santa

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
Around Christmastime, he’d earn some extra cash as a Mall Santa.
But he wasn’t a very good Mall Santa, either.
He put on the suit, got up on the chair, and kids sat in his lap and asked him for things.
Everything went smoothly. No crying, pissing, vomiting, or long lines.
The mall’s owner fired him.
“When kids cry, their mothers buy them things,” said the boss. “When things go quickly and smoothly, they don’t buy anything.”
George plundered the mall and got some new boots. And oven mitts.

Here comes Santa Claus

Here comes Santa Claus, here comes Santa Claus.
Lock the windows!
Pull the blinds!
Bar the doors!
Turn off the lights!
Santa knocks on every door, and he tries to peer in through the windows.
“I know if you are sleeping,” he says. “And you’re most certainly not.”
Long ago, we all bricked over our chimneys and went to central heating.
No way that the fat bastard will get in through there.
That’s when we smell smoke.
Did he leave a flaming bag of poop on the doorstep? That kidder!
And then, we see the flames get higher… and higher.

Jesus candles

The noisy old lady in the apartment next to mine is always lighting those Jesus candles and leaving them in her window.
One day, I smelled smoke, and when I went outside to look, one of the candles had lit her drapes on fire.
I grabbed an extinguisher and knocked on her door, but she didn’t answer.
So, I kicked in the door, sprayed down her drapes and the candle, and called the fire department on my cell phone.
She screamed about an intruder and called the cops.
The cops took her away.
I re-lit the candle, and thanked Jesus.

Weekly Challenge #606 – Virgin

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:

Sleepysqueaky

LIZZIE

Love is such a complicated matter.
It all started back in Virginia. A few furtive meetings in someone’s vine lead up to a number of wild hops, and the obligatory puff, Woodbine, in this case.
Woodbine was discontinued in the 1980s, but then again we are not placing a timestamp on this story, are we?
The problem with love is that it becomes a complete nightmare rather quickly.
As he fled Virginia, all he could recall was her rage. She screamed at him furiously while she held a branch of devil’s darning needles that she had plucked in sheer fury.

CHARLIE

I was a forty-year-old virgin when I married Tina. I was led to believe that most lady punanis held double rows of Piranha-like teeth, mainly due to my private school education.

As a young boy I was caught at an energetic game of pocket pool; scolded without mercy by both parents which manifested as castration anxiety.

My belief in vagina dentate kept me away from punanis for most of my adult life.

Before the honeymoon, I took my fiancé to a gynecologist and a dentist so I would be assured that everything was as it should be.

I am happily married.

#2

Lamont was a virgin. The ladies in his class thought he was hot. He was on the swim team. Girls swooned at the sight of Lamont in his Speedo.

Lamont had only been in two women in his life, his mother and The Statue of Liberty
.
A bit shy but in that boyish way that make girls crazy and attractive to the older girls that wanted to seduce and conquer him.

Lamont landed a job at a law firm. He was raped in the supply closet by the women in HR and the night watchman.

He was never the same.

RICHARD

Virgin

I’m a virgin.

There, I’ve said it – it’s not something I’m particularly proud of at my age, but there you have it… A one hundred percent, bona fide virgin.

And it’s not for want of trying, either!

It’s not entirely my fault, I think genetics may have played a part in my unfortunate situation. You see, both of my brothers, and my sister are virgins too; I guess it’s one of those things that runs in the family.

Also, my father and my mother, have admitted to being virgins too!

Wait a minute… That can’t be right. Can it?

SERENDIPITY

Traditionally, we’ve danced naked around the standing stones at midnight for the winter solstice.

But tradition isn’t set in stone: We’re getting on a bit in years, and not really cut out for dancing around the freezing hillsides in our birthday suits.

It’s time for a change.

As for sacrificing virgins – the local supply has pretty much dried up… You just can’t get decent maidens any more!

So, we make do with what we can get, but I don’t think it’s gone down too well with the elemental spirits.

Perhaps that’s why the winters are so damn cold lately!

JEFFREY

God of the Volcano
by Jeffrey Fischer

The volcano demanded a virgin sacrifice every hundred years, lest it erupt violently and mercilessly. For hundreds, if not thousands, of years, the local population had fed its need, save for the occasional unfortunate experiment every half-millennium or so.

This year the village could find no virgin, and time was running out. The UN flew in a college cheerleading squad to no effect. Same with a plane full of science nerds. In desperation, a team of elite soldiers kidnapped Michael Moore and dropped him in the cone. The volcano stopped rumbling, its need met for another century. However, the volcano god belched out Moore, who refused to stop complaining how the volcano was run.

TOM

An argument for the estate tax

Vern Patterson was the grandson of the distillery giant Cosmo Patterson. He thought himself as marketing genius. Truth be told, he was just a genetic dead end. If I may let me list a last trio of galactic business blunders. First carbonated Kahlua that was good for a $5,000,000 loss worldwide. A tobacco liqueur made from a synthetic of Louisiana Perique which caused spontaneous esophageal cancer, the class action suit is still pending. And last a sprouted pre-pollinated Juniper berry drink Vern had the temerity to name after himself. Had to alter the spelling a bit. He call is Vir – Gin.

Good Children go to heaven,
Bad Children go Everywhere

Adolf Hitler, Isaac Newton, Mother Teresa, Andy Warhol, Lewis Carroll, Nikola Tesla, Elizabeth I, J. Edgar Hoover, Henry James, what did all these folk have in common? All virgins. A lifelong commitment of a kind. Perhaps alternative courses of act were available to them. They merely didn’t stop, stopping. Had a lot of time on their hands, making time with their favorite person. If you’re of a curtain age you caught that pun. Tried it out in my youth. Didn’t much care for it. Thankfully an older woman took the matter into her own hands. A seminal moment it was

NORVAL JOE

The virgin flight of the Flat Earth Society Celestial Dome exploration team ended in confusion.
They hired Virgin Galactic to fly them up to the dome to determine whether the sun and moon were on a mechanical track or if the celestial bodies were a projection from above or below the dome of the sky.
As they reached the lower stratosphere they saw the north pole was not the center of a flat earth with an Antarctic ice wall around the perimeter.
They saw, instead, that the earth was a globe.
They agreed to never mention their discovery to anyone.

DUANE

Virgin

Flabbergasted. That was the word I was looking for. Flabbergasted. Her message was sinking in and all I could do was sit and stare at my phone. What she wanted wasn’t unreasonable. I wanted the same thing. I just wasn’t sure I was ready. I was too old for this. “Maybe not too old” I said to myself, “just too old fashioned.” There was a time when I wasn’t afraid of anything. That’s it! There was nothing to be worried about. She’d already made her choice. My thumb hovered over the screen for a brief moment before I swiped right.

TURA

Virgin
———
“Fish and chips?” my mother almost screeched. “It’s line-caught fish from organic fishermen, I’ll have you know. And it’s not ‘batter’, whatever that is, it’s a crisped breadcrumb sauce. No, darling, don’t call those ‘chips’, it’s uncouth, they’re chipped potatoes, cooked in extra-virgin single estate olive oil. I have a darling little man who orders it especially from an organic olive grower he knows personally. I’m so lucky to have him, because of course it’s so hard to find proper service these days. You wouldn’t believe how much all this costs!

“So how can it have any calories in it?”

PLANET Z

Luigi Gambino made a fortune importing extra virgin olive oil from Italy.
Well, that’s what the labels said.
The truth was, he bought colza oil from rapeseed, and added color and flavors to fake it.
Then, he’d bottle and label it extra-virgin in Italy, and ship it from there.
The Spanish Mafia, with their avocado and palm oil scams, took offense to Luigi’s scam, and the bodies started to pile up on the bottom of the Mediterranean.
Luigi ended up in one of the tanks of olive oil.
His business partners fished him out, and went on with the processing.