God created the world, then he created animals and plants and then Adam and Eve.
“You may not eat from the Tree of Knowl- hey, where did it go?” said God.
Adam smiled and pulled out a park bench. “I made this with it.”
God scratched his beard. “Did you eat any of the fruit?”
“No,” said Adam. “Eve tried to get me to, but I tossed it in the river.”
God looked in his rulebook. “I guess that’s okay,” he said. “Oh well. Enjoy eternity.”
And Adam did. Right after he cut out Eve’s tongue with a sharp rock.
245
I use a treadmill to lose weight.
I lost 25 pounds.
And reached 245 pounds.
Four weeks ago, my sister-in-law came to visit.
And I was unable to use my treadmill in the morning.
Because she slept in that room.
She had a cold. I caught it.
I could not walk in the afternoon, either.
I am stuck at 245.
If a cashier says the price is two dollars and forty-five cents, I will stab him.
If a clock says that the time is two forty five, I will smash it.
AM or PM, I will smash it.
And walk.
Columbine
Not everyone who listens to Marilyn Manson goes on a shooting spree like the Columbine kids, just as not everyone who sees a Lexus ad goes out and buys a Lexus.
But some people are impressionable, and do go out and buy Lexuses.
And some of them buy those Lexuses for their kids for their sixteenth birthday.
Those are the dangerous ones. Those are the ones we should fear.
Where were the parents, the pundits ask.
Out buying Lexuses. For their kids. For their sixteenth birthdays.
Arrest those parents. Arrest those kids.
Oh, and when you do, bring your guns.
Correct by Munsi
The Proper Way to Party
By Christopher Munroe
There’s no one, “Correct” way to party, and anyone telling you otherwise is lying…
If your idea of a party includes the show, after-party, hotel lobby and, when ‘round about four you gotta clear the lobby, take it to your room, then by god do that.
Similarly, if you’re having a party, a party for two, then enjoy the intimacy of your very private party.
The party bus isn’t about judgment, it’s about parties, however you define them, and however you define yours there’s room for you here.
And perhaps that, more than anything, is what we need right now…
Weekly Challenge #572 – CORRECT
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:
JEFFREY
Errata
by Jeffrey Fischer
Betsy was an efficient secretary but had difficulty adapting to new technologies. Her responsibilities included taking dictation and transcribing the dictation for signature. She made few typos, and those were easily corrected with a dab of White-Out.
When the office removed Betsy’s beloved Smith-Corona and replaced it with a word processor, Betsy was confused but soldiered on. Dictation, typing, correction fluid. Turns out that scraping White-Out from a CRT was no easy matter. Management wanted to fire Betsy on the spot, but HR insisted they give her another chance.
One day the computers were gone, replaced by technology that imprinted words directly on one’s retina. Head gestures replaced keyboard commands. Betsy was ready with her dictation equipment and her trusty bottle of White-Out. She retired on disability pay when the doctors said the blindness was permanent.
CHARLIE
As he drifted into the curb, his back wheels broke traction and he slid far to his right. He knew he had to correct and use the power to get out of the spot he was in.
He downshifted, and pushed his foot into the accelerator, hoping he could power out and still have control of the heavy sedan.
His Uber passenger in the back seat was screaming and trying to dial the office on her cell phone. She couldn’t dial, as her big ass was sliding back and forth across the leather seat.
Almo was fired the next day.
RICHARD
#1 – Tooth
When I was a youngster, I had an errant tooth – rather than grow in the correct place, it decided it would be fun to erupt right in the middle of my palate, like some bizarre enamel stalactite.
Two hours of orthodontic surgical torture, and three years of braces and retainers later, and now I have a snaggletooth that they never quite managed to correct.
Personally, I could have done without all the drama and pain – just yank the damn thing out is my attitude.
Which is probably why my kids are always so terrified about visiting the dentist!
#2 – Coffee
What’s the correct way to make coffee?
It depends who you ask – the Greeks, Lebanese, Italians and French all tell you something different. Ask an Aussie, and an Indonesian and they’ll have their own take, as do the Dutch and the Spanish.
Some will have nothing but a short, black espresso, whilst others think the perfect coffee requires copious squirts of flavoured syrups, a dash of Baileys, or beans that have travelled through the intestines of a rodent!
I have my own opinion, but I know one thing: No matter how you take it, Starbucks have got it wrong.
TOM
Pre-Post-Dystopia
If Jimmy had been correct once, just once, life might have worked out for the poor little urchin. It wasn’t so much as a lack of brain power, he had considerable street smarts. It was that refined social etiquette that let you move effortlessly through the maze of class land mines. In the decades since The Thinning you were pretty much on two side of the tracks or the other. Those on the side with the goodies, life was pretty good. Those on Jimmy’s side had to keep an ever consistent eye on the baddies. Jimmy was bad for good.
JON
The Correct Answer
By
Jon DeCles
“The correct answer is…
“No, wait, I’ve got it this time! The Thlacine! The Marsupial Wolf!”
“No, I’m afraid the correct answer is…”
“Wait now, this is really important. -The Smilodon! The Saber-Toothed Cat.”
“That’s not it either. The correct answer…”
“Look, you know my life depends on this. –I’ve got it: the Dire Wolf! That’s it!”
“That is not it. The correct…”
“The Demetrodon! That’s the answer!”
“That is not the answer. The correct answer is…”
“The Veloceraptor! Tyranosauros Rex!”
“Without the correct answer you are going through that door to meet…”
“Surely not a pack of Hesperonychus elizabethae?”
SERENDIPITY
The Haven Correctional Home for Beastly Children takes a firm approach to enforcing discipline.
We’ll happily employ flogging, shackles, waterboarding, and what critics might consider more extreme forms of control – the fact is, we’re incredibly successful at what we do: Once a child has been through our processes, they’ll never return to old habits.
So, what sort of deviant behaviours earn a place on our programme?
Nail-biting, speaking with their mouth full, nose picking, staying up past bedtime… You get the idea. These are the type of bad behaviours that we guarantee to correct… No matter what it takes!
LIZZIE
“Didn’t I tell you not to stand at the back of the room, staring at the ceiling? I find that extremely annoying, not to mention distracting. You cannot just stand there in silence. You haven’t said a word since the course started. Your attitude is totally unacceptable,” said the teacher, furious.
Without any sudden movements, the student pointed at the ceiling and everyone looked up.
A gigantic spider had built a massive spider web where huge flies were stuck and desperately fought for their lives.
“Correct me if I’m wrong, sir, but that’s quite the life lesson, wouldn’t you say?”
NORVAL JOE
Benny peered up at the man standing in the doorway. His Roman nose and strong jaw gave him a regal appearance.
“King Lear,” Benny said. “It was you all along.”
“Correct,” the man said, holstering his pistol and looking toward the door to the stairwell.
Suddenly it all made sense. Benny said, “You weren’t after me. You wanted to draw Juliet out of hiding.”
“Correct, again,” Lear said, and headed for the stairwell. “Thanks for your help, Benny.”
A bullet between the shoulder blades knocked Lear to his knees.
“You’re still in love with her?” Lear gasped.
“Correct,” Benny said.
LAIEANNA
Hank always imagined being on a game show. He didn’t care which one;
he watched them all. When Hank finally had an opportunity to really
play, he proved his worth, answering questions correctly and amassing
quite a sum, but Hank had never anticipated the additional pressure
and anxiety. Upon winning, down fell balloons and the host approached
to shake his hand. The stress became too much. Before millions, Hank
heaved and vomited over the horrified host. Despite his brilliance and
wealth, Hank was forever going to be remembered for one thing, and
from that was born his nickname Hurling Hank.
TURA
Correct
———
A tax official was subjected to an inspection. Clerks examined his accounts, the records of those who had paid taxes, and the records in the capital of remittances received. They found that his assessments and collections were correct in every detail. Not the smallest copper coin or bushel of rice was out of place.
General Wei pronounced, “When a story is perfectly correct, it cannot be true. Perfection is not to be found in the Middle World. Therefore, let this tax collector be sent to attain the perfection of the heavens.”
The tax collector confessed his crimes before being executed.
PLANET Z
Baron Otto Von Correct was the Grammarian of Bavaria, walking around and correcting other people’s grammar.
His staff would levy fines against serial offenders, who would complain to the local magistrate about the Baron’s behavior.
“There isn’t an actual Office of The Grammarian of Bavaria,” said the mayor, wadding up each ticket and throwing it in a wastebin.
The mayor ordered his men to round up the Baron’s men and lock them in the city jail.
The Baron himself was beaten to death and thrown into the river.
He had nothing to do with AutoCorrect.
I just don’t like Germans.
Potempkin Country
The country was a dictatorship, and the dictator ruled over everything and everyone.
However, when the press came, he had a Potemkin village set up to fool them into thinking the people had food, decent homes, electricity, and freedom.
The press and foreign diplomats liked it so much, more of them came, and the dictator assigned more citizens to the village.
It grew into a city… then several cities… and eventually it spread across the entire country.
The place was prosperous, enlightened, peaceful, and free.
The dictator gladly relinquished power, put on some casual clothes, and enjoyed a stress-free life.
You can only save so much
We lived in this place a long time.
The walls are covered with pictures from our life together.
She’s not well. The treatments are expensive.
And we tried to save up for these things, but you can only save up so much.
We’ll have to sell the house.
I took down the pictures.
The wallpaper that was behind the pictures is brighter than the rest of the wall.
And the door to the safe is so shiny.
I open it, and pull out stacks of money.
After she’s gone, I’ll buy the house back.
You can only save so much.
100 Words Long
The dumbest question people ask me is:
“Does it have to be 100 words long?”
A good host would have a nice answer for that question, but I’m not a good host.
So, I’ll respond with:
“Are you stupid or something?”
Or:
“You’ve got to be shitting me.”
Which usually drives the potential participant off.
That’s okay, because I really don’t want to deal with someone who asks how many words should be in their story for a site called “The 100 Word Stories Podcast.”
Do I count the words in every story people send in?
No. Because I’m lazy.
Jacket Pockets
It’s usually too warm in Houston to wear a leather jacket.
I only get to wear my jacket in December, January, and most of February.
I try to remember to empty the pockets of that jacket.
But I’m always losing something in that jacket.
Never a phone or a wallet. I’d miss those.
But a pair of sunglasses? Or a Bluetooth earpiece?
Yeah, I found both in my jacket’s pocket this year.
I thought I’d lost them.
I’d already bought a new pair of glasses. And a new Bluetooth earpiece.
At least I don’t need a new leather jacket, right?
Father Goose
We know about Mother Goose and her fairy tales and nursery rhymes, but what do we know of Father Goose?
Some say that he died in the war.
Others say that he drank a lot, and he drowned in the river.
But we, her kids, know the truth.
“This is your Uncle Goose,” Mother would say, as she led yet another John to her bedroom.
Sometimes, we heard her crying at night.
We’d ask if she was okay, and she’d tell stories about magical places and amazing adventures.
Just to escape for a little while.
For us. And her, too.