The 100 Word Stories Podcast

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
• Charlie
• Richard
• Lizzie
• Serendipity
• Tom
• Jon
• Tura
• Norval Joe
• Laieanna
• Munsi
• Planet Z

JEFFREY

Suggestion Box
by Jeffrey Fischer

My company’s new CEO installed a suggestion box outside the executive suite. He emailed the staff, informing us of its existence and assuring us that anonymous suggestions were perfectly acceptable. He wanted us to feel part of the organization. And, after all, who better to understand where the firm could improve but its current employees?

I dropped my suggestion in the box early one morning, so no one could see me do it. “How about cut your obscene salary and give us a raise for once?” it read. My termination notice pointed out the ceiling camera just above the box.

CHARLIE

I made a suggestion. I suggested we go for a walk on the cliffs near the old mill. The old mill was closed down due to the pollution it produced.

The cleanup promised by the local tribe and the former mill operators was long overdue.

We walked close to the edge, and took photographs.

I hated her for the last eight years, and when she slipped on the loose rock close to the edge, I closed my eyes tight and covered my ears to block the sights and sounds of her head bouncing off the rocks on the way down.

RICHARD

Sommelier

“If I might make a suggestion, Sir, the Chablis would make an excellent accompaniment for the trout.”

I looked disdainfully over my menu at the waiter. Of course he’d suggest the Chablis – it was one of the most expensive bottles on the list! Did I look like I’m made of money?

“If I want your opinion on our meal, I’ll ask for it – until then, I rather think that the choice of wine is entirely ours!”

“Don’t you think I should ask the old trout herself what she would like?”, I continued, handing the menu to my wife.

LIZZIE

“Try looking under the bed, he says … Why didn’t he come upstairs himself and look under the bed? Why did I have to be the one looking under the bed? On my knees, getting my best clothes dirty… Yeah, like the dude is going to hide under the bed. What if I find him? What then? I’ll just say, hello, you. All good?”
Silence.
“Oh, damn. What’s this?”
More silence.
“Hey, Patrick. He’s not under the bed. But I found that hand we lost track of. The one we chopped off of the… what’s his name? The other millionaire.”

SERENDIPITY

The secret is to show no fear.

Not the slightest quiver of the lip, not the merest suggestion of nervousness, nor any sign of concern.

Just breeze through, eyes front, unconcerned about the situation and without any hesitation.

Because I can tell.

I know when you’re hiding something, and I can spot the signs – the way you fumble with your passport; the bead of sweat on your forehead; and your nervous looks across the desk as I check your visa.

Then, for you, I’m afraid it’s far too late…

And I smile as I pull on the latex gloves!

TOM

Top Down
“I’m tell ya boss this Suggestion Box thing, great idea,” said Baxster Beelzebub. “I’m still not sure this sends the right messages to our permanent guess. You know all that hope stuff. We do not want another outbreak of that.” Said the Big Man. “No prob boss. I got a plan.” “Like the republican congress?” “No bigger.” “Cell Phone Video game?“ “Bigger.” I’m listening, Beelzebub.” “We install Two Suggestion boxes.” “Wizard, Baxster. Write up a proposal and submit it to Eve in accounting. Who came up that idea?” Guy down in ring eight called Dante. “What’s in for?” “Indeterminable prose.”

JON

Only a Suggestion

By

Jon DeCles

“That shape has the suggestion of Humpty Trumpty,’ Alice thought as she approached the high wall…

“When I use a word,” Humpty Trumpty said, in a rather scornful tone, “it means just what I choose it to mean…”

“The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.”

“The question is,” said Humpty Trumpty, “which is to be the master ¾ that’s all. They’ve a temper, some of them… Impenetrability, that’s what I say!”

“Would you tell me, please,” said Alice, “what that means?”

“Do you like my new wall? Mexico will pay for it!”

TURA

Suggestions
———
Recommendation engines have come a long way since Amazon’s “If you liked that book, try these.” They’re embedded in everything. “If you liked that holiday, try these.” “If you liked that person, meet these.” They even make suggestions about what to get suggestions about. “If you liked those holidays, try my job suggestions.” You can get conversational assistants, suggesting things to say into your ear in real time.

Some people follow the suggestion bots for everything. The brains of suggestion drones actually shrink from disuse.

So maybe you should start ignoring anything that begins, “If you liked…” Just a suggestion.

NORVAL JOE

“Just smile. It will make you feel better,” his girlfriend said, displaying her own broad set of pearly white teeth.
He smiled back.
Her suggestion didn’t work.
Jack didn’t feel better.
In fact, his feelings of inadequacy and frustration grew until they took shape. Not the shape of a square or circle or a wiener dog, but into the shape of a ten pound hammer that he brought down on her head.
Jack’s transformation was so sudden and unexpected that his girlfriend’s smile remained on her face, even in death.
“Did that make you feel better?” Jack, ‘The Hammer’, asked.

LAIEANNA

Jason has ever been my only friend. He was more of the scheming
leader and me the follower who did the tasks. I never hesitated when
he made suggestions.

“Why don’t you steal that golf cart?” I did.

“You should grab the cash Ms Pennely is always bragging about.” I did.

“How about you take this bat to that man’s head?” I did.

Nowadays it’s harder to keep up with the barriers between us, but we
manage. Just now got another one of his notes. “Why don’t you write
about me in a 100 word story.” So here I am.

CHRIS

The Suggestion
By Christopher Munroe

This is not a demand.

I have no power over you, no leverage, and even if I did it would be wrong of me to use that leverage to make demands of you.

You are a human being, with thoughts and feelings just as important and valid as my own, who has the right to exercise your own best judgment and preserve your own sense of moral agency, and I completely respect that and would never infringe upon it.

So no, this isn’t a demand.

This is merely a suggestion:

Get on the Party Bus. We’re all going to Vegas…

PLANET Z

George was a pirate, but he wasn’t a very good pirate.
He was clumsy and made lots of mistakes, and the rest of the crew had to make up for them.
So, they filled the Captain’s suggestion box with complaints.
Every week, the Captain emptied the box and read the notes.
“Make George walk the plank!”
“Keel haul George!”
“Feed George to the sharks!”
Some were just drawings of horrible things happening to a stick figure, presumably George.
He then read the note his dear departed sister had left him.
“Keep an eye on my son George.”
And he sighed.

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
• Jeffrey
• Richard
• Tom
• Jon
• Serendipity
• Munsi
• Tura
• Laieanna
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

LIZZIE

Lightning or Not

“To control the uncontrollable…” Diane sighed.
Annie shook her head. “What is that suppose to mean?!”
“That thing’s stumbling out.”
“What thing?” Annie turned around and tentacles were sliding out of the show’s chest.
“What is that?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Looks like an octopus.”
Suddenly, the wannabe octopus slammed the lid open and turned into a giant green lightning.
“Nice effect. Is it for the show?”
That was the last thing Diane said.
“Octopus… At least now you’re fed. I told you a million times it was not the time yet. We’ll get them all, but not yet.”

JEFFREY

Read See Scrolls
by Jeffrey Fischer

Lightning flashed nearby as Clyde and Wayne approached the cave, hidden in a nook on the Spanish coast near Valencia. “They’d better be there,” said Wayne, stumbling on the rocks.

“They will,” replied Clyde. “I tell you, I seen ’em. Hundreds of – whadya call them? – fragments, just like them up in Is-Real. And these ain’t paper, they’re what that Moses guy had, you know, tablets. As long as we can beat them other guys looking – them Italics, from Italy – we’ll be rich and famous.”

Wayne was still skeptical, but he looked into the cave. Sure enough, there were hundreds of fragments – of iPads. Someone had used the cave to dump rather than recycle them.

RICHARD

#1 – Tofu

Tofu… Foul stuff. No taste, nasty texture and comes with that universal disclaimer used for the disgusting: ‘It’s good for you’.

I beg to disagree. It’s not good for me: The tiniest fragment of the awful stuff, no matter how artfully disguised or masked by other, more palatable ingredients, is guaranteed to send me running for the bathroom!

Trust me, after one of my tofu related ‘incidents’, you really don’t want to be following me in there.

If you are unfortunate enough to do so, there’s one thing of which I’m sure: That tofu won’t do you any good either!

#2 – Comic Sans

I always sign my name in italics, using Comic Sans, and in ochre ink.

It irritates the hell out of my boss – he says it’s unprofessional and doesn’t reflect company values. I think my boss talks a load of crap – since when did how you sign your name speak about professionalism or values? If that’s the case, doctors would have to spend half their medical training learning to write legibly!

So, why do I do it?

Partly for a little individualism and uniqueness; partly because I can; but mostly, because it annoys the hell out of my boss!

#3 – Lightning

After being banned from his self-appointed role of bus conductor, dad decided to try his hand at being a lightning conductor.

We tried to dissuade him, warning him about the perils of getting cold and wet, the risk of pneumonia and the dangers of slipping in wet mud, but he was having none of it. He’d made his mind up to become a lightning conductor, and a lightning conductor he would be!

Actually, he’s doing rather well. Last I heard, he was touring in Spain – where the rain stays mainly in the plain, and the lightning is rather frightening!

TOM

Truth is Over Rated
Sally entered the Oval office with all the trepidation of a French royal on their way to the square in a cart. “Well not so bad so far,” she mused. He didn’t look up at first. Then asked her if she wanted to share one of his tofu burgers. She decline. He laughed, “Like I’m going to eat tofu.” “Here’s the deal.” The irony of the statement wasn’t lost on her. “I’ve got the greatest hair of anyone who ever sat behind this desk. How would you describe the color?” “Spanish Ochre.” “You really don’t want this job?” “You’re Fired.”

JOM

Rabid Response

By

Jon DeCles

Jethro stumbled across the dirty ochre carpet to the table where his pad sat ringing at him. The flashing italics on the screen affected his vision like close up lightning on the plain in Spain, but he didn’t let that stop him. There was still a fragment of tofu on the bottom of the screen from last night’s inadequate supper, but he knew he had to answer the call. She’d demand it.

“Genevieve?” he queried when he knew that he had her. “Why are you communicating at four in the morning? The heroin hasn’t even come on yet! Genevieve? Genevieve?”

SERENDIPITY

They say the night I was born, a lightning bolt pierced the skies at the moment of my birth.

Fact or not, it is true lightning struck an ancient yew in the local churchyard that night: A fragment of its charred remains hangs on a cord around my neck – testament to the violence accompanying my first drawn breath.

Like that tree, I am broken, withered and scarred, and I strike fear into those of a superstitious nature. Yet, despite our infirmities, we both survive, against all odds.

And whilst I survive, my life remains as twisted as my body!

MUNSI

To Make a Thing Your Own
By Christopher Munroe

There comes a time when you must customize your Party Bus.

I mean, I’ve had the thing for weeks, it needs to be done.

Trick out the engine, replace the disco ball and stripper poles, re-stock the bar with higher-end liquor, that sort of thing.

And, naturally, airbrush a delicate pattern of lightning bolts across the thing, with “Munsi” down one size in italics, and “Rockz” down the other.

Let the whole world know who’s bus this is.

Let the whole world know who likes to party.

Let them know who has two thumbs and likes to party…

…this guy!!!

TURA

Ochre is a soft, yellowish rock, consisting basically of rust. But in this limestone cave there shouldn’t be fragments just lying around. I shone my lamp further forward. More ochre, lumps sized to fit a hand. The cave walls were covered with orangey scratchings.

The lettering was crude, and I lost track of time as I deciphered it. It described tunnels deeper within the cave, with fragmentary sketches of maps.

I realised, too late, that my lamp was growing dim. The last sentence I read said, “You are about to be eaten by a grue.” And the lamp went out.

LAIEANNA

I was a very clumsy kid who only got worse as an adult. How could I
go backwards? I don’t know, but head trauma was my life. That is
until they came out with the Stumble Pad. Spring loaded with a 360
degree swivel from the belt, a small cushion shoots up to protect my
head from any angle when sensors read I’m taking a tumble. Still a
few scrapes and bruises but the noggin is good. The best part is it
doubles as an emergency pillow, seat cushion, and flotation device.
I’m thinking about getting the full body version.

NORVAL JOE

The saying goes that you’re more likely to get struck by lightning than you are to win the lottery. The other saying is that lightning doesn’t strike in the same place twice.
Arthur Bunkmaker doesn’t believe either of those sayings, because he’s never been hit by lightning and he’s won the lottery three times. He found his lucky numbers on the inside wrapper from a box of tofu. He used the same numbers each time.
He never won the megamillions, but he did win enough to buy a villa in Southern Spain and he never has to eat tofu again.

PLANET Z

Fred liked to play games on his computer pad.
He played them all day long.
Even in school, he played games.
But the games in school weren’t the bird games or the maze games or the games he liked to play.
These were math and word games.
Adding numbers, dividing numbers.
Piecing together fragments into whole sentences.
The geography games were kinda boring.
Shapes of countries that no longer existed, like Italy… Spain… Texas…
He looked out the window, down at the poisoned Earth.
“Play your games, Fred,” admonished the holoteacher.
Fred went back to the math and word games.