A little something extra

Every year, Mommy tells me to be good so Santa will come and leave me presents.
“And so I can make that son of a bitch take a paternity test,” she mutters.
Yep. Santa left a little something one year.
In Mommy:
Me.
The process servers say the North Pole is out of their jurisdiction.
So, Mommy left out a plate of cookies and a glass of milk.
Santa wears mittens, so you can’t get fingerprints, but you can get trace DNA from the glass.
“It’s a match,” says the analyst.
This year, forget the bike.
I’m getting Child Support.

Elf Cookies

Keebler would have you believe that elves make the best cookies.
And they’re right. Just not in the way they think.
You see, Santa Claus runs a massive elven eugenics program up there at his North Pole workshop.
He’s managed the toymaking bloodlines for centuries, breeding the best toymakers and weeding out the clumsy elves.
Clumsy elves are ground up to make elf flour for cookie dough.
They make the best cookies.
So, next Christmas Day, when you unwrap a present to reveal a broken toy or a lousy knit sweater, don’t cry.
Have yourself a cookie.
Isn’t failure delicious?

Radical Feminist Christmas Joke

The pastor asked the kids why God made Mary pregnant and had her give birth to Jesus.
One boy said it was to give His son to the world.
Another said it was so Jesus could heal the sick.
One girl said it was so Jesus could die for our sins.
The last girl said it was because God was too much of a chickenshit to go through nine months of pregnancy and ten hours of labor Himself.
“Goddamned feminists,” mumbled the preacher.
The kid kicked and screamed as a pair of burly rectors dragged the kid to “Time Out.”

The knockout reindeer game

The other reindeer made fun of Rudolph and wouldn’t let him play in their reindeer games.
So, Rudolph hung out with ghetto elves on the South side of the North Pole.
Which, if you know your geography, is all around the North Pole.
They had the North Pole surrounded.
When the other reindeer went into the ghetto to get the drugs that let them fly, Rudolph and the ghetto elves played The Knockout Game with them.
Down went Donner. And Cupid. And Comet. And Vixen.
The gang took their fancy harnesses and shiny silver bells.
Silver bells. Ting a ling.

Weekly Challenge #503 – Box

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:

Myst

TOM
(no audio)

Wrapped Up With a Bow

“What’s in the box,” asked Laura. Frankie replied, “Stuff.” “OOOOH” said Laura. “I want to see.” “Nope, you got to wait.” “I want to see it now.” “Not a chance. We open the box on HogFather’s day just as the sun rises.” “That sucks.” “Get over it.” Frankie placed the package under the yum-yum tree. “Moooooooooooom! Frankie wouldn’t let me open the box.” Much to Frankie horror Mom put the box in Laura’s hands and smiled. She tore it open to find a lump of coal. “Should have waited,” smile Frankie, until she clock him in the forehead with it.

MUNSI

Drop It

By Christopher Munroe

“Drop it like it’s Hot” is an amazing early 2000s club jam, quite possibly Snoop Dogg’s finest moment.

It is, however, horrible advice if you work at a resaurant. The food is always going to be hot and in spite of that it does need to be carried to the table safely.

Dropping things simply because they are hot means re-cooks, angry guests and wasted food. Frankly, in spite of how amazing we all agree Snoop D-o-double-g is, we cannot afford to be following his example.

It wouldn’t be economically viable.

In summery: Snoop Dogg is awesome, and you’re fired.

JEFFREY

The Boxer
by Jeffrey Fischer

Matt had an anger management problem. He would lash out at co-workers, kick holes in walls, and beat up hapless office equipment. His therapist suggested he learn to box to channel his aggression. Matt took the advice to heart.

One day his trainer said Matt was ready for an opponent in the ring. He laced his gloves and stepped into the ring with one of the regulars at the gym. Forty-five seconds later, Matt was back in his corner, bleeding and woozy. “What happened, kid?” the trainer asked. “You never got off a punch.”

“I dunno,” Matt replied. “My shrink told me to leave all my angry thoughts with the bag. When I looked into Juan’s eyes, I realized I had no quarrel with him. I couldn’t hit him.”

The Most Precious Gift
by Jeffrey Fischer

Jake was only seven, but he understood the true meaning of Christmas: presents, mainly for him. As early as October, he pestered me for one thing after another. Legos, trucks, superheroes, video games – you name it.

As I thought about what to get him, inspiration struck. On Christmas morning, Jake ripped apart the wrapping and eagerly opened the box to find… nothing. The box was empty. I told Jake, “You have the opportunity to use your imagination – can be anyone, do anything. You don’t need a specific toy.”

For some reason, Jake didn’t seem as appreciative as I had expected. He didn’t speak to me for two months. For that, I considered the box to be my most successful gift ever.

CHARLIE

She kept things in her box. Bits of string, small stones found on the beach, scraps of paper, the stump of a pencil, a few coins, and the first flower her boyfriend gave her. As she got older, she stuffed more and more things into her box. It was almost filled to the breaking point. Her family didn’t understand, and they admonished her for doing what she was doing. They didn’t want their daughter to break her box, or to imperil her health. Her box had been in the family for twenty years, and they wanted it for twenty more.

2nd

The box held all that I knew, all that I thought, and all that I produced. It was a fifty petabyte storage unit that was tethered to high speed fiber. It allowed me to back up all devices with access to my personal network, including my implant. I could backup to the cloud and to the box, itself. The box was still experimental, and the IBM/Amdahl chips inside were still in beta, as was the implant in my skull. If I wanted to go “off line”, I had to hold a small radio to my temple to switch it off.

3rd

She always thought far outside the box. In fact, many thought that she didn’t know what a box was. She was the top designer at GeenDozen…a firm in Holland. She surrounded herself with very capable designers, writers, and artists. They would bid on an assignment, and within a few days would have a workable solution, templates, and mockups to show to the client. Mariëlle kept her secret from her fellow workers. She would sneak out at lunch and consult with an old woman in the storefront across the street. The old woman would brew a special, red tea for Mariëlle.

LIZZIE

It was impossible not to notice the stench.

Postal Inspection officers opened the parcel. Dogs were called in to sniff the box for drugs and human remains. They found nothing.

The parcel was sent on its way.

The next day, the news reported the mysterious death of an elderly couple, after the mail was delivered to them.

No one mentioned the man with a grudge against the Postal Inspection Services, grumbling in his living-room.

Opening the box should have triggered an immediate lethal chemical reaction. Okay, it was a really bad idea to send the damn parcel to his parents…

RICHARD

Treasure

Feeling rather pleased with himself, Bilbo Laggins secured the ogre’s bonds, brushed off his hands, and headed off down the path to find the brute’s hoard.

Sure enough, behind the third oak on the right, hidden in a small cave, he found a large wooden box, secured with a solid looking padlock.

No problem – Laggins still carried the stake with which he’d clobbered the ogre; a couple of solid blows soon released the hasp, and with a smile, he carefully lifted the lid.

Staring at the glittering treasure, he began to think maybe this quest was worthwhile, after all!

Clearly Capable

The interview seemed to have gone well…

“Got to tell you son, I’m giving you the green light – you’ve got the engagement delta we need. Our people think outside the box, push the envelope and harness their vertical experiences in scalable rethinking!”

This didn’t sound like me at all.

“Are you sure I’m your guy?”

“Hell yes! We need to push the peanut forward on this… Get you onboard to start leveraging our effectiveness matrix.”

“So you’re offering me the job?”

“Yep. You’ve got the footprint that sits squarely in our operating model.”

“Meaning what?”

“You’re a straight talker!”

TURA

Box

———

Abba Jerome visited Abba Genarius on the day of Our Lord’s birth, and gave him a box of Egyptian sweetmeats.

A year later, Abba Genarius visited Abba Jerome, and gave him that same box, still full, saying, “Thank you for this opportunity to resist the weakness of my body.”

A year later, Abba Jerome visited Abba Genarius, giving him that same box again, saying, “The virtue of abnegation cannot be contained.”

A year later, Abba Genarius gave the box to Abba Jerome, saying, “I cannot open this while my brother stands in want.”

Then they laughed and ate them together.

——

Music credit: “Chant from a Holy Book”, by Georges Gurdjieff, played by the Gurdjieff Folk Instruments Ensemble.

DANNY

How did that telemarketer know I was suffering from acid indigestion the exact moment he called, and he specifically was the cause of it despite the fact I was already taking Maalox? Is that what a premonition is supposed to feel like? Annoying? I feel trapped inside this large square like thing, what do you call it? I wish I was trapped in this thing last time I walked my deaf dog off leash, because I assure you, as soon as he sees that 1st car go by, he ain’t coming back no matter how much you call his name.

SERENDIPITY

So, you want to know what’s in the box?

Well, that would be telling… And it really is better for all concerned that you remain in ignorance, to be quite honest.

But when you look at me with those puppy dog eyes, it’s so hard to resist…

All right then, if you must, and if you’re really sure you can handle it, I might consider relenting. After all, what harm could it do?

I insist that it’s on my terms though: You come to me.

Call round tonight, and come alone – you know the address.

Just ask for Pandora.

ZACKMANN

The shopkeeper told me he wasn’t sure if he had a small lockable plastic box nor a three lock box. He had a heart shaped box for Always. He did have a toy Porsche Boxster driven by a boxer dog and a music box with a pro boxer dancing around the ring. I told him a dancing boxer seemed silly to me then he told me not to say anything around Manny or he would give me a Pacqui owie. Then I found the plastic ammo box. It might be strange that I purchased an ammo box to store medicine.

MARV

The Box.

Marcus the elf had always been the practical joker in Santa’s workshop. He took a box, drilled a large hole in the bottom, attached a lid and painted it like a Jack in the box. Then he painted the insides white, highlighting the hole in red. He then poked his finger through the hole and wiggled it around, Perfect!

As Mrs. Claus approached on her weekly inspection tour, he calmly sat with the box in his lap. When she stood in front of his station, he Flipped open the lid with both hands, smiled and asked, “Like the new Jack?”

NORVAL JOE

At the beginning of the 21st century several bored billionaires developed a plan to mark humanities place in galactic history. They gathered images from pivotal moments of life on earth, placed them in a crystal cube, and the cube into a protective titanium box.

When activated, the cube would flash the images in chronological order.

They placed the box in a probe and launched it toward the outer depths of space.

42 million years later an advanced civilization retrieved the probe from space, followed the diagram instructions on how to open it, removed the cube, and played in the box.

PLANET Z

Every Christmas, I wrap dozens of boxes and drop them off at the Toys For Tots.
Laptop computer boxes, chemistry set boxes, building block boxes… lots of boxes.
Nothing in them, mind you. Just the boxes. Empty boxes.
I pick them out of my neighbors’ trash cans.
Then, I wrap them up and give them to Toys For Tots.
Is it cruel?
Of course it is.
My cats love empty boxes.
I’m taking away their boxes and giving them to the kids.
Plus, they love to play in wrapping paper.
And the ribbons and bows, too.
Stupid Toys For Tots!

Christmas Party

Every year, the company has a Christmas Party, but it’s earlier and earlier every year.
“All the good places get booked in advance,” says the owner of the company. “So, it’s harder and harder to book a place for the holidays.”
Which doesn’t make sense, because the company is a restaurant management company.
We own and manage restaurants. Some of the best in the country. And we can’t book one for the holidays?
“We could,” says the owner. “But they pay more than we do for a banquet room.”
You know, that makes less sense than Christmas in fucking March.

No such thing

There is no such thing as Santa.
Well, not anymore.
The real Santa died centuries ago.
Ever since then, a series of impostors took his place, dressing up and playing the part.
Some did it well. Others did it just for the thrill. Or to escape justice.
The elves covered for the bad ones. They pretty much run the show, these days.
Santa’s a symbol. A figurehead. A patsy.
It’s the elves you need to keep a watch for.
Santa, you see everywhere.
“Helpers” you see too.
But true elves?
Never. Nobody sees them.
And lives to talk about it.

It’s A Wonderful Ending

After the party ended and everyone left, Mary put the kids to bed.
George Bailey counted the money again.
It was more than enough to cover the savings and loan.
Perfect.
“I’ll take care of that,” said Uncle Billy, scooping the stacks of money into a basket.
“Fuck no, you goddamned stupid drunk!” shouted George. “You’ve fucked this family for the last time!”
George took Billy’s keys away. “You’re fired!”
Then, he had Bert the cop drive him into town so he could put the money in the safe.
“Merry Christmas, savings and loan,” he mumbled. “Take me home, Bert.”

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,
A lot of my friends are sad, worried, and afraid.
And I can’t do anything about them.
But tell them I’m sorry, which doesn’t really help.
Maybe instead of going around the world
And leaving presents for all the good boys and girls
You could go around and collect up all the sadness
And worry. And stress. And fear.
Collect them all up in your bag
And then fly out over the deepest ocean
Or the South Pole
And dump them over the side of the sleigh.
Oh, and pick up newspapers and soda cans
For recycling, too.

Cereal Gift

You can buy Lucky Charms marshmallows by the bag from some online store.
So, I gave these to my son as a Christmas gift.
I put a note on the bag “Santa had the elves pick these out of 20 cereal boxes. Then he gave the crappy cereal to an orphanage full of bad children.”
My son then proceeded to act like a dickhead to his little sister.
That’s when the bag of marshmallow bits vanished, and another note appeared:
“Santa gave your address to the kids in the orphanage. And baseball bats.”
He’s hiding in the basement, behaving himself.