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:

• Munsi
• Jeffrey
• Richard
• Planet Xray
• Tom
• Lizzie
• Serendipity
• Tura
• Marv
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

On Drinks
By Christopher Munroe

Drinks with rhyming names are delicious!

The Singapore Sling. The Bahama Mama, they’re playful, summery drinks with playful summery names that are fun to say.

Which, naturally, makes them fun to order, which in turn causes people to order them more often. This isn’t coincidental.

Bartenders aren’t dummies, they know the power of a catchy turn of phrase and they’re highly motivated to keep you drinking. Up to a point…

Eventually, the names become syrup in your mouth and you start to trip over them. This is when they cut you off.

Overall, it’s very useful, as naming conventions go…

My Favorite Bartender
by Jeffrey Fischer

I looked around the bar as I took my usual seat. “I don’t like it,” I said to Frank, who was tending bar.

Frank shrugged. “Manager wanted tiki night. What can I do?” He motioned to a line of kitschy mugs that might have been ripped off from a Trader Vics. He slid a cocktail menu in my direction. “So whaddya want?”

“Singapore Sling. Light on the Singapore.” Frank nodded, then grabbed a shaker. He poured a generous portion of gin over ice, added a short portion of dry vermouth, shook, and poured the mixture into a martini glass. After adding a pair of olives, he passed me the drink.

I took a deep swallow. “Frank, you’re the best.”

Keeping It Clean
by Jeffrey Fischer

Some days, I think there’s a great deal to admire about Singapore. Oh, sure, the government is authoritarian and they’re not keen on freedom of speech. On the other hand…

I’ve never understood people spitting in the streets, as though the sidewalks were spittoons. I’ve also seen someone spit on the carpeted floor of the subway. Then there are the smokers who carelessly toss cigarette butts out the car window or on the sidewalk, as though purchasing a pack also conveyed the right to litter.

What does this have to do with Singapore? One word: caning.

Richard
Busking it

I’ve never been musical: instruments of any description are completely beyond me. I tried to learn piano, but kept getting my hands mixed up. Tried the guitar, but my chords couldn’t keep up with my strum, as for the drums… Well, it seems I have no natural rhythm, apart from the wrong one.

Didn’t stop me becoming a busker though, however I now use the natural instrument I’ve been blessed with – my voice.

It’s dreadful. I can just about sing a poor attempt at ‘My Way’, but people are more than happy to pay…

For me to shut up!

Planet X-Ray

iClone

When we were looking for a location to build our secret agent cloning facility, we picked Singapore because it was an island of only 278 square miles, in case any of the rejects got loose.
Also, with a population of 5 million, what better a place to blend in the new agents while they were in training.
Our biggest problem was getting the agents to drive on the correct side, or I should say the left side of the road. That was mainly due to the donor DNA coming from our stockyards in New York City, but that’s another story.

Tom
Singapore Girl
In the golden age of air adventure airlines used a number of cleaver slogans and earworm giggles to entice the middle class to take to the skies. From United’s fly the friendly skies to Braniff’s when you’ve got it flaunt it. Delta’s Delta is ready when you are, and We’re American Airlines doing what we do best. Airlines used iconic images to brand their companies. A koala bear who hates Quntas or a crowd of people creating a winking face for British Airways. My favorite was Singapore Girl a great way to fly, yes its sexist but sure sold tickets.

Lizzie
The Singapore Cleanup

“Where are we?” asked Penny.
The small boat slid through the narrow strips of water.
“I thought…”
“I know, love,” replied Miles.
Unexpectedly, a bend in the canal revealed a boathouse called Singapore. It was deserted.
“Ok. This is unacceptable,” Penny shouted. “Not only do we not travel to Singapore but we have to wait?! We are professionals!”
Suddenly, a sharp sting hit the side of her head. She was gone immediately.
The boat driver then turned his attention to Miles.
“The invitation did say Singapore, last stop.”
Miles tried to go for his gun, but it was too late.

Me: Serendipidy Haven
Story: Singapore

Next time you’re in Singapore, why not forgo cocktails at the Raffles Long Bar? Take a walk on the wild side instead.

Stroll down to the night market and marvel at the street food… It smells so good, but who knows what it is?

Wander past the flower merchants. Just off Pagoda Street is a dark alley.
Half way down, you’ll find a green wooden door. Take the stairs to the second floor.

That’s where I’ll be.

We’ll make mad, passionate love.

Then I’ll kill you and chop you into tiny pieces, to sell to all those street food hawkers!

Tura
The King of Singapore
———
In 1391, the bandit Parmeswara led an insurrection against the Emperor of Thailand, setting himself up as king in the territory now called Singapore. But his followers were never so zealous as he himself, and at last he stood alone. In dying, he cursed the land that had proven unworthy of him, foretelling that no king would ever again stand on its soil.

Since then, it has had vassal overlords, colonial governors, presidents, and prime ministers, but never a king. Even under British rule, the King of England never dared to set foot in his colony. When Japan annexed Singapore, the Emperor declared himself King of Singapore, and within a few years Japan was defeated and its Emperor’s power broken.

To this day, the word “king” is taboo in Singapore, and it is a treasonable offence to use it in reference to any member of the government.

Marv.
Singapore is Calling

We were sailing two days out of Singapore, just north of the Riau Islands, headed for Manila when we hit a squall.
The skies darkened and there was frequent lightning that caused an unnerving pinkish glow in the western sky.
Suddenly, a freakish wind slashed our sails to shreds leaving us to the mercy of the now raging seas.
All we could do to seek safety below deck.
Hammered by the thunder, we never saw the waterspout suck the boat up into it.
When we regained consciousness, we were back in Marina Bay again,
Singapore was calling us to her.

Norval Joe
“I know, Mandy. I’m sorry. I ran into some trouble on the way to work,” Monkey Boy, Mickey Platano said. “It won’t happen again.”
“It better not,” Mandy said. Her stern smile was out of place on her normally cheerful face. She was only eighteen, but was shift manager. Mickey grabbed a smock and followed her out to the cash register.
“Prep the chicken to grill,” she said looking at the bowls of marinating meat. “We need Rio, New Delhi, Peeking, and Singapore.”
Thirty-One flavors of chicken, each named after a city or country.
Polecat walked past the front window.

Planet Z

The phone rang.
The caller ID showed a long number, one of those International numbers.
I looked up the country code, and it said the call was from Singapore.
Who did I know in Singapore? Was someone traveling there, and needed help?
I let the call go to voicemail, and I played the recording.
Nothing but static.
Maybe they’ll call back?
I waited… and waited… and waited.
I tried to dial back the number, but the system told me that the number was no longer in service.
I put my phone down, and let it sit there for a while.

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:

• Munsi
• Jeffrey
• Richard
• Tom
• Serendipity
• Marv
• Lizzie
• Norval Joe
• Planet Z

MUNSI

On Royal Headwear
By Christopher Munroe

I’m no king, but I own a crown.

Because it’s 2016, crowns are readily available for purchase, I wanted one and fuck you, that’s why.

I’ll never lead a nation, but a crown’s something I could make happen, and I deserve to have things that bring me joy.

So I bought it.

Now I own it.

And when I feel down and need to be picked up, I take it out and put it on, and wearing it does make me feel a little better.

And I’ll tell you right now, for the record: I absolutely fucking crush that crown.

JEFFREY

Strategy
by Jeffrey Fischer

The Devil, to stave off boredom, wanted new ways to take souls. He turned to chess. So many suckers thought they had skill at the game. He roamed the boards in Central Park, challenging the players.

Clyde looked like just another homeless black man with a substance-abuse problem. But Clyde had studied the game for years and readily accepted the Devil’s challenge, on one condition: one move per day. The Devil agreed.

Clyde had a plan. When he castled, protecting his king in a corner, the Devil understood this time he was the sucker. The game was a draw, playing out one day at a time. That was over 50 years ago, and Clyde is still going strong. And yes, the Devil is bored.

Looking Back
by Jeffrey Fischer

For eons, Elvis found the afterlife fascinating, but even infinite variety dulls eventually. He decided to find out how he was remembered on Earth. Michael Jackson begged him not to look, but the King could never think of Michael as anything but the kid singer in the Jackson 5.

On the whole, Elvis was happy how things turned out: millions of record sales, Graceland was a shrine to his legacy, and even the imitators in rhinestone-studded jumpsuits were somehow endearing.

But… peanut butter and banana sandwiches? Who in his right mind would think Elvis actually liked that crap? Only Yankees, who thought a Southern boy, no matter how rich, could have no decent palate. He slapped those ingredients together once, when he nothing better in the house. Only a quart of whiskey made the sticky mess go down.

RICHARD

#1 – The Gospel According to Norman: The wise king

There was once a wise king.

His wisdom and fairness was famed throughout the kingdom and people would come from far and wide seeking his guidance on disputes of every kind. The king’s days were long, but the people prospered.

It came to pass that two women came to the court, bringing with them a baby. Both claimed the child was theirs and neither would relent, and so it fell to the king to adjudicate.

Sighing, the king called for his sword and, as the onlookers gasped in horror, fell upon it and died.

He just couldn’t take the pressure.

#2 – King Size

I don’t like to complain about old-fashioned measurements, but there’s a lot to be said for standardisation.

Whilst you lucky folks in the rest of the world get to stuff yourselves to the point of bursting on your king size burger, fries, and enormous sodas, I barely have enough to sate my hunger.

You lounge away the nights in your king size beds, whilst I freeze in a bed that’s simply not big enough.

In fact, everything described as ‘king size’ around these parts is tiny in comparison.

That’s the problem when your king is a twelve-inch ruler!

TOM

King For A Day

Timmy wasn’t the sharpest tools in the shed. So it wasn’t much of a surprise when he entered the King for a Day Contest. “What the heck,” he said. Winning hands down the good subjects of Licktenrubal looked forward to the day after King Timmy’s rein, preparing for a good laugh at his expense. Oddly on coronation day Timmy was nowhere to be found. Soldiers, sheriffs, and the greater number of Lintenrubians scoured the countryside searching for Timmy. Tired and dejected they returned to the castle to find the Royal Treasury looted. Seems Timmy wasn’t as dim as he seemed.

The Day I Didn’t Meet the King

It does not take much raw material for the fates to weave the smallest of lives into the backdrop of history. A Jesuit father ends up in New France in the 1600s. He rows his canoe through the swap that will become the future site of the 2nd city. The civil leaders of the city name a park in his honor. Since the name of the park is the same as my family’s name we would often picnic there. In Aug 1966 the Rev King marched through the park as I watched the hate rise. He looked pretty damn scared

In Plain Sight
For those who are fond of riddles I have the following. A man who was born a king but never abdicated a crown to become President of the United States. Sounds pretty Da Vinci Code: a Pope interred. All whimmly wobbly, which is one hint to his identity. He sat in judgement on a bullet which defied the laws of physics. Here’s a second: He weathered the attack of two assassins. But not that of his political rival, which is your third. When you’ve secured his name please post it to the comment area. You are a king among men

SERENDIPITY

Once a king, always a king, they say – but not if I have anything to do with it.

You may be a big shot in your country: Prime minister, president, dictator, prince or queen – to me, you’re just another day’s work.

I don’t care who you are, or how important you may be, as long as I’m paid the going rate, you’re a target, and I will bring you down to size using whatever means I have.

Poison, bullet, blade or bludgeon – your status won’t help.

You’ll die.

And I’ll live…

Once an assassin, always an assassin!

MARV

The King Is Dead

The King is dead, long live the King!

The Chamberlin made the official royal announcement in a loud and clear voice to members of the royal court of the pasting of long reigning King John Quincy Marcus IV and of Prince Charles becoming King Charles William David VIII.

As he ascended to the throne, King Charles became acknowledged absolute ruler of 20 million subjects in the tiny county of Lilliput.

What a week it has been for now King Charles, beginning on Monday he went to his first day of kindergarten and then, only three days later, He’s the King.

LIZZIE

The kids made fun of Bernie whenever he said “I’m a King.”
What he meant was he belonged to the old local King family, although he wasn’t called “King”.
Bernie was, however, proud of his heritage and no one would convince him otherwise.
Fresh out of College, a distant cousin called Harold King introduced him to the right people.
When Bernie came back for his high-school reunion, the kids sure didn’t make fun of him when he said “I’m a king!”
He had married into a European royal family and had become king, only in title, but still a king.

MORVAL JOE

Monkey Boy rounded the penguin pool, shot past the tiger pen, hurried out the service gate and onto the main boulevard through the east side of his city. Two thoughts raced through his head as he dodged pedestrians and ginkgo trees spaced every twenty feet in the sidewalk: What did Pole Cat and her crew want from him, and how long would it take for them to catch up with him?
He ducked through the back door of the Chicken King restaurant and slipped into the storage room.
A woman turned around and shouted, “Mickey. You’re late for your shift.”

PLANET Z

You probably know about Queen Latifah, the soul singer and actress, but was there ever a King Latifah?
Yes. Yes, there was.
But as with Latifahs, the queen bites the king’s head off after mating.
No, Queen Latifah doesn’t have any kids. Sadly, the mating was unsuccessful.
And even if she did have kids, she’d just have eaten them, right?
Except for one, who she’d raise as her princess.
Only upon her death would the princess be allowed to consume the royal jelly necessary to transform her into the next Queen.
But, let’s face it: She’d probably get eaten first.