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:

• Charlie
• Munsi
• Jeffrey
• Lisa
• Zackmann
• Lizzie
• Serendipity
• Richard
• Norval Joe
• Tom
• Jon
• Tura
• Planet Z

CHARLIE

The party lasted a full year. It only broke up after all the drugs were depleted. Three party goers passed away over the year, four couples were married, two babies were born, two children left home, and four declared their wish to transgender AND quit drinking and binging on psychedelics. Oh, and one auburn-haired woman was beamed up on some kind of blue tractor beam into a big spaceship.

Right before this happened, several of us swore we saw Carrie Fisher laughing, in among the faces pointing and looking out of the ports of the craft. I hope it’s true.

MUNSI

The Party Bus: Volume I
By Christopher Munroe

Every bus is a party bus, if approached with the right attitude.

You simply need to believe. In yourself, in the bus and, most importantly, in getting this party started.

Because truly, starting this party is your responsibility, nobody else is going to start it for you. It is your party, just as it is your bus, and it is up to you to start them.

And every moment you put this task off is a moment spent not partying.

You have a responsibility, take it seriously.

Just ask yourself; What would Andrew W. K. do?

And then: Party Hard.

JEFFREY

Office Holiday Party
by Jeffrey Fischer

Every year was the same: Frank, the regional manager, organized the office “holiday” party. Caterers brought food, but the real draw was the open bar. The company paid for everyone to get so drunk that the next morning was lucky to have a skeleton crew at work. Over the years, punches were thrown, friendships among colleagues ended, and several marriages went under.

In 2016, Frank decided to cut down on the mayhem and regrets by having a dry party. It turned out that his employees didn’t much like one another. Everyone left early. Frank’s resolution for 2017 was to bring back the booze.

LISA

What Remains
In a matches strike it started and a slow lick of flame over cedar lit them.

Naked and goosebumped. Together at last, they didn’t notice the dark cold room, their sanctuary. Couldn’t see the wrong in what they did. Led by desire, rather than logic.

And as their eyes met so too did their lips; in a rush of heat as the flames leapt higher beside them. Kindling dried over a long hot summer.

It burnt to almost nothing.

A mess of ash the next day in the fireplace.

Easily swept away although of course dust floats and clings forever.

ZACKMANN

I hate to interrupt since you would make a cute couple. I know I am a killjoy. Being a parent who works security I have been informed of being a killjoy more than once.
You two are so into your conversation that you maybe didn’t notice me walking past every ten minutes for the last hour since the band packed up after playing “Closing Time”.
Do you need directions to the freeway?
The rest of you part left over ninety minutes ago and the clean up crew is waiting to finish this room so you really need to leave now.

LIZZIE

The party was scheduled for ten.
Lucia stressed over everything, the lights, the music, the food, the lights.
“What’s wrong with the lights?”
“Honey, they are crooked.”
“The lights are fine.”
She shrugged and walked away to stress over the food again.
Eleven and no one had arrived.
“Where is everyone?”
Midnight and nothing.
The next morning, Lucia received an email signed by everyone, claiming they had orchestrated that revenge for some obscure reason she couldn’t understand.
She didn’t care. She was still fixated on the crooked lights.
“The lights were fine!” yelled Peter from the kitchen, reading her mind.

SERENDIPITY

I like to let my hair down, in fact you could say I’m something of a party animal.

Although there’s a good chance that you and I may have rather different ideas about what that means.

Because, when I hit the dance floor, strut my stuff and entice you closer; willingly accepting your offer of a drink, laughing at your jokes and suggesting we find a quiet, dark alleyway somewhere, where we can have our own little ‘party’…

You’d be well advised to refuse and walk away.

Because that’s when I become an animal… Although only during a full moon!

RICHARD

Party

Political party – now there’s an oxymoron, if ever I saw one.

Politics around these parts is certainly no party, neither is it a game.

Unless your idea of fun is dirty tactics, foul play, backstabbing, backhanders, spin and lies.

Of course nobody ever admits the truth, even though we all know it. Instead we smile, pretend it’s all above board and correct, and turn a blind eye. We dress up politics to look like something it patently is not.

But, no amount of cupcakes, funny hats and silly games will ever convince me that politics is anything remotely, a party!

TOM

Hail To The Thief
I am a RINO. A member of the party for 45 years. I cannot tell you how many time this party has been hi-jacked. How many time it has abandon its core beliefs. Been led to folly and beyond. I thought I had seen it all, but what is about to happen is truly beyond the pale. I long for a time when conservative meant best use of recourses and not a banner for denying others access to the bounty this country produces. I can only hope my party passes quickly through the gathering darkness and return to the light.

JON

The Party’s Over

By Jon DeCles

It was a great party, or so people thought. Winter nights give way to bright lights, a little too much to drink, the conviction that the cold air will disperse the buzz and bring sobriety. Sometimes it’s true,but it should never be taken for granted.

The canyon is narrow, and even late in the afternoon the sun has not reached the blacktop, and the ice, like the shattered glass of windshields, remains thick.

You can hurry too much, or nod off early. Either mistake is ultimately agricultural. A little twist, a slide. The canyon grows thick with plastic flowers.

NORVAL JOE

The exploration party lit torches and crept into the temple, the wizard leading the way.
Fenestration raised a hand to stop the group and held his torch up to the wall.
Gold symbols flashed to life in the reflected firelight.
Karbunkle growled, “What be the meaning of these inscriptions?”
The wizard hummed tunelessly for a moment, then said, “It is an ancient script. From what I make out it says, ‘All may enter. Only the worthy may leave.'”
With a rumble that shook the ground, a stone slab dropped from the ceiling behind them, blocking the exit from the cave.

TURA

Party
———
An official decided to hold a celebration, following his appointment to a high office. He sent an invitation to General Wei.

General Wei responded, “The inferior man hopes for an invitation. The mediocre man solicits an invitation. The superior man needs no invitation. Therefore to those of inferior rank one must send invitations, to those of one’s own rank one should make the event known, but one may merely hope that persons of superior rank elevate the event by their presence.”

Then he removed the official from his post, and ordered that he be invited to his successor’s inaugural celebration.

PLANET Z

Commander Toschlog organized the first Super Bowl party on the moon.
The hydroponic units produced tofu with sequenced buffalo wing flavoring.
The distiller and reclamators produced plenty of beer and vodka.
And they scheduled plenty of satellite time to handle the video feed.
Technically, gambling’s illegal on the base, but friendly bets that involve covering someone else’s shift or other favors were permitted.
Well, overlooked.
A lot of cheering. A lot of noise.
But best of all, everybody could watch the commercials and laugh.
Because nobody was going to special-order anything on a supply flight for at least two years.

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:

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

CHARLIE

I always order Chow Fun as takeout. I love the lard varnish on the noodles, and how they slide so quickly down my throat. The other foods I like slathered in lard are tongue, shark fin, spleen, tripe and pig’s knuckles.

I grew up in a family of big people…big people that worked with their hands, and during wine grape harvesting, worked with their big, gnarly feet to crush the grapes in the traditional way.

Most of my family had their stomachs stapled by the time I finished vocational school. I stayed slim by eating rancid oil and mung beans.

JEFFREY

The Job
by Jeffrey Fischer

Hank was the town executioner. He carried out the ultimate punishment when the jury imposed it and had done so with professionalism and enthusiasm for years. The problem was that the job just wasn’t fun any more. Read the warrant, throw the switch, repeat. Eight hours a day, five days a week. (This was a tough town. At least the benefits were good.) Hank told his boss, “The job has no growth potential. I feel creatively stifled.”

His boss nodded. “I understand what you’re saying. Back in my day, it was ‘Read the warrant, chop off the head’ all day long. It’s the nature of the job. But I have an idea…”

After that, Hank got to choose the method of execution: hanging, blade, gun… he especially liked some of the more creative methods. The fun was back.

MUNSI

Fun
By Christopher Munroe

In the morning, in the evening, ain’t we got fun?

Well?

Ain’t we?

I work so fucking hard, I do my job every day, without complaint, and I ask for so little in return. A little fun, in the morning, and perhaps a little in the evening when I get home, and I don’t think, considering everything I put up with, that this is an unreasonable thing for me to expect.

So, I’ll ask again, and this time really consider your answer before you give it.

In the morning, in the evening, ain’t we got fun?

Well?

Ain’t we, punk?

TOM

Bluestocking to Barbie

Girl just want to have fun. Does this rule out real estate, 401K-s, Gold, Diamonds? What exactly constitutes being a Girl? Shouldn’t being over 30 make one suspect of having an elderly agenda? The song seems to be a slap in the face at pay equity, sending the women’s movement new marching orders.

On the other hand it might be a cautionary anthem. The dominate female pleas with the protagonist. “When you gonna live your life right.” The paterfamilias voices a vailed Cassandric concern. “What you gonna do with your life.” What’s the big deal about walking in the sun?

It is a tale. Told by an idiot

Tom you Trotskyite Darwinian Tree-Hugging Papist you’ve totally missed the meaning of the song. Failing to note the sub-text of how the masculation of the fair sex has produced ball-busting Valkyrie. “You say this as if it were a bad thing?” Well the song does. What cost freedom without joy?

Get over the fact that the song was sung by a mid-aged-waif-wanta-be. She was 30, you were 30, get over it. The Boomers failed to change the world. The least we can do is leave songs of hope. In a post Trump world perhaps the best defense is having fun.

JON

It Depends on What You Like

By

Jon DeCles

It’s not much fun being a God in a badly designed universe. For one thing, you have to share it with the other Gods: and believe me, there will be other Gods!

Some of them are pretty nice deities, but most of them resent having to share..

For my part, I enjoy trying to set up my Creatures with the possibility of, within their limits, reasonably happy lives. But some Gods: well, they like to watch Creatures suffer and fight and make war and die horribly. So—

If you don’t like your life: you may be worshipping the wrong God.

TURA

Fun
———
After the gods had created the universe, and the multiverse, and Man, they wondered what to do.

“Consider Man,” said one. “Man invents obstacles, then overcomes them. This he calls ‘fun’.”

“What is an obstacle to the gods?” said another.

“This!” said one, and split into a billion stars, each a fragment of the whole.

“This!” said another, setting to study what was, before the gods.

“This!” said a third, and placed a sliver of himself into a Man.

One day they will end their fun and return to themselves, and their creations will vanish like a dream upon waking.

LISA

Follow the Rainbow
She’d slept with the light on.
It was pink. A metallic glittered hue. It sparkled from across the room.

A girls dream come true. A scooter. The one that chalked as you rode. Painting a rainbow behind you in the city streets.

Pom-poms from the handlebars shed glitter on her floor next to a discarded shoe.

Mum calling from downstairs broke the morning silence.

“I don’t know what time you got in last night my girl. Or what drunken state you were in. But you’re gunna be late for work. And you need to take that fucking scooter back.”

RICHARD

Fun

“Let’s do it”, she said, “it’ll be fun!”

And that’s how I ended up going on my first, and quite definitely my last ‘Mystery Trip’.

Four hours on a bus, with a load of elderly idiots whose own idea of fun was singing endlessly throughout the journey: To be deposited in a depressing historical town, in the pouring rain, whilst a bored guide took us on a whistle-stop tour of the sights, then abandoned us to shopping all afternoon.

Then four hours back on the bus.

The only mystery to me, is how anyone can call this fun!

SERENDIPITY

You know what they say – girls just wanna have fun – and, when it comes to men, I can’t deny that it’s true.

We’ll break your hearts, take over your lives, destroy your dreams and take you for a ride. You’ll pander to our needs, fulfil all our desires and worship us with your mind, soul and body.

Then, once we’ve tired of you and feel like moving on, we’ll take you for everything you have and leave you empty, destitute and helpless.

And all this, sanctioned and supported by the law.

Around these parts, we call it ‘marriage’!

LIZZIE

Her last wish was to have the room filled with balloons.
While she was sleeping, they brought them in.
The look on her face when she woke up was extraordinary.
She smiled, her eyes sparkling with excitement, mesmerized by the soft swaying of a multitude of colors.
Suddenly, she reached for the cord of one of the balloons and frowned.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“Mommy, we must free them now. They won’t be happy locked in here.”
So, they opened the window and, one by one, the balloons were set free, as was her young tired heart later that night.

NORVAL JOE

Thurbing reached toward the glowing keystone, but withdrew his finger before touching it,
“That’s hot. I can’t touch that. I’ll burn myself.”
“Aye, Son. Ye can,” Karbunkle said. “Ye weren’t brought on this quest for fun.”
Thurbing took another step back. “I’m not talking about fun, Dwarf. I’m talking about permanently maiming myself.”
“Enough foolishness,” Beechbark said, took Thurbing’s arm by the elbow and wrist, and pushed his hand against the keystone.
To Thurbing’s surprise, the keystone pushed into the wall of the temple without his hand bursting into flame.
With a rumble, a passage opened in the temple wall.

PLANET Z

My T-shirt says: We put the “FUN” in “Fungus!”
Why?
Because I went to The Mushroom Museum in Zagreb.
Where is Zagreb?
It’s in Croatia. It’s the largest city and capital of Croatia.
They have many museums there, but I liked The Mushroom Museum the best.
It’s a nice place.
Plus, you can take home as many samples as you want.
I filled my pockets with the “special” mushrooms.
But Customs stopped me at the airport, and they seized my entire haul.
Except for this T-shirt.
Which is made out of “special” mushroom fibers.
Let’s eat it and get stoned!