The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is 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:

• Tom
• John Musico
• Lizzie
• Jeffrey
• Richard
• Charlie
• Serendipity
• Munsi
• Zackmann
• Anima
• Norval Joe
• Tura Brezoianu
• Planet Z

TOM

Just Doing Business

The Kid had no time for the simple courtesys of gangster etiquette. He did have a wicked sense of humor. He always asked if the mark had any last words, perhaps a short pray or maybe they had a reasonable counter offer. When the mark got the first word out of his mouth he would pop him in the eye. After word got out no one was willing to give the Kid the satisfaction of one last laugh on them. This when the Kid started doing hour long eulogies. Must guys would yell: Fuck You, at some point, then the pop.

JOHN MUSICO

Playing with the kids

In ancient Greece, for fun, boys would grasp the neck of a goat, occluding their carotids, and making the goat pass out. Sort of a dark choice for fun. “Carotid” is derived from the Greek word for “drowsiness” and stems from this mischievous practice. Death by strangulation is inaccurately depicted by Hollywood; suffocation takes minutes but ceasing blood flow to the brain takes a mere 10 seconds. The original Star Trek series was more medically accurate. Spock’s Vulcan death grip where a single carotid was compressed relates to a nerve reflex in the neck which pauses the heart, in seconds.

LIZZIE

Sound Stage 2 was a kid-free zone. The director hated children.
When he realized his main actress was pregnant, he started paying alimony but fired her.
Years later, a kid asked to talk to him. He refused.
The director was then forced to work on a show for children, go figure. Yes, the kid was 14 but he was the owner of the studio.
One day the director went crazy; he abhorred kids and he would have plenty of time to dwell on that, right after the trial ended.
The studio had become a kid-free zone again, that’s for sure.

JEFFREY

On the Job Learning
by Jeffrey Fischer

“Hey, Roger, what are you doing for ‘Bring Your Kid to Work’ Day?” Harvey asked.

“Hadn’t thought about it.”

“You have a kid, don’t you? Bring the little guy in, show him what a working stiff does for a living.”

“I’m not sure anyone would call us working stiffs, but… I don’t know. My kid isn’t all that well-behaved.”

“All the more reason – he can trash the office and make me think I’m back in the frat.”

“Well… okay. But I gotta check Metro regulations first. I can only bring him if they allow goats on the subway.”

The Joker
by Jeffrey Fischer

My colleague Steve was a joker who never owned up to his cruelty. “Hey, big guy,” he’d say “I see your folks killed the fatted calf for you.” Pause. “But you didn’t have to eat it all by yourself! Just kidding.” Or: “I slept with your mom last night. She told me I was so much better than your dad. Kidding!”

I complained and asked him to stop, but he fell back on the cliche about sticks and stones. Words couldn’t hurt, eh?

The next time Steve went on vacation, he mentioned he was flying to Cancun. I called the TSA anonymously and said that Steve had baggies of coke in his rectum. Totally untrue, but it took the TSA guys hours to reach that conclusion. My words must have hurt for a month.

RICHARD

Script for a departure [or, It’s not plagiarism, it’s art!]

“Here’s looking at you kid. I’ll be back!”

“You dirty rat!”

“You talkin’ to me?”

“What if is there is no tomorrow? We should seize the day! Don’t you want to take a leap of faith? Or become an old man, filled with regret, waiting to die alone!”

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn! I want to be alone!”

Tears… in… rain:

“Don’t cry, Shopgirl. Don’t cry. “I know now why you cry. But it’s something I can never do. Goodbye.”

“In case I don’t see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!”

Well, nobody’s perfect

[The dubious honours go to:

Casablanca (1942)

The Terminator (1984)

Taxi (1931)

Taxi Driver (1973)

Groundhog Day (1993)

Dead Poets Society (1989)

Inception (2010)

Gone With The Wind (1939)

Grand Hotel (1932)

Blade Runner (1982)

You’ve Got Mail (1998)

Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)

The Truman Show (1998)

Some Like It Hot (1959)]

CHARLIE

“The Kid” was the consummate simpleton…attributed to a flaw in his genes, or his mother’s drinking and drug use while she carried him. He was pleasant and behaved, but very gullible and trusting. The perfect playmate, as his playmates succeeded in convincing him to take the blame for all the trouble and mischief that the gang managed to conceive and generate. As he grew older, he entered politics at the local level and did very well until the scandal put him in a federal prison for twenty years. Turns out, The Kid took the rap, intoxicated by all the attention.

Second

His dad told him to treat his girlfriends with kid gloves. Donald bought some fine, kid leather, gloves, and wore them his first day of school. The school was private, and sensitive to special needs students, so no one ever mentioned his gloves, believing they concealed some skin condition or disfigurement. Young Donald T. was very popular with the girls. They loved it when he stroked their neck or legs with his gloved hands. His pals thought it was creepy, but they were jealous of the admiration he got from the girls, and because of his wealthy and influential family.

Third

He kidded around with mates and teachers. He believed that his humor was a bit twisted, and anyone that gave his pranks time to sink in would realize that he was being very clever and ironic. Humor gone unappreciated or acknowledged is sad, and it eventually gnaws away at the psyche of the jokester or punster…as it was in Leslie’s case. Maybe his jokes and pranks were NOT funny at all. Maybe he was under the illusion that he was clever and funny. Maybe his friends played along with him because he was prickish and they feared or pitied him.

SERENDIPITY

Soft and warm: they really are the best ever.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted to own a pair of proper kid gloves, but they’ve always been too expensive. Which is why I decided to make my own – although I never expected to end up running my own business off the back of them.

I’ve started diversifying too – now I’m manufacturing socks and scarves, and they’re selling well.

Business is booming, but I worry my raw materials won’t keep pace with demand.

So, I’m looking for a new school… And a fresh supply of kids.

MUNSI

Nicknames

By Christopher Munroe

I can’t help wondering about old western gunfighter naming conventions, sometimes…

I mean, for example, surely a gunfighter nickname involving “Kid” in any form must be something said gunfighter would inevitably grow out of, yes?

As he went from cowboy to cow-man, the Cincinnati Kid would surely become the Cincinnati Adult, then the Cincinnati Senior, who can safely be disregarded because he’s not as fast as he used to be…

Y’all’s old and busted, is what I’m getting at, Cincinnati Kid. Y’all’s old and busted and you ain’t got shit on me.

And yes, those ARE fighting words.

Bring it.

ZACKMANN

Thanks for the ride partner. Before you ask about the eyepatch which I wish it was in celebration of Talk Like a Pirate Day, the sad truth is I got in a scrap with a certain Billy the Kid. Billy had become addicted to old school Lucky Strikes. The day I ran out and gave him a Marlboro Red Billy spit the filter right into my eye. I’m go to the doctor to see if I can take off the patch then to look for a job without goats or at least a place that doesn’t use cigarettes as dewormer.

ANIMA

Second Skin

These gloves are nice, but won’t work for me. I have this terrible condition – I am hyperallergic to almost everything. Even lotion residue on people makes me break out in hives. It is truly awful.

Well, well! You should have mentioned this sooner. Try these here on for size. They are expensive, and I only have a few pairs left. They’re vintage; my uncle Gacy made them in the 70’s.

Wow, they’re great, like a second skin! What did you say they were made of?

Genuine kid. A pity, Uncle never taught me the secrets to making his signature gloves :(

NORVAL JOE

Several people circled around Bufford and Agent Aphasia who held the open container.
The crazy haired woman rearranged her tinfoil hat and said, “Give me the ghost reservoir.”
“Ghost reservoir?” Bufford asked. “It’s a dark matter containment cylinder.”
“Bring in Gnocchi,” the old woman called.
“No one here is hungry, you old bat,” Aphasia growled.
A boy wearing a purple robe with silver embroidered stars walked into the room, his arms folded across his chest.
“Kid Gnocchi is our most powerful medium,” the old woman sneered.
The boy raised his hand for silence and said, “I feel a strong presence…”

TURA

Kid
———
Good old Mr. Johnson, always the joker. He’d stand on someone’s foot and yell at them to get off his foot. Or he’d pour ketchup down someone’s back. Then he’d say, “Just kidding!” His grin would get tighter and his eyes would go hard and people would back off.

Eventually it came out he was keeping three women prisoner in his basement and living on their benefit payments. In court, all he said was, “I was just kidding! Can’t they take a joke?”

So don’t say to me, “Can’t you take a joke?” Because, no, I don’t think I can.

PLANET Z

They were the perfect couple.
Well, sort of.
She wanted kids. He didn’t.
At that point, they were going to be the imperfect couple or the imperfect family.
A counselor suggested a cybernetic child.
He didn’t want kids of any kind.
She didn’t want a pet, whether animal or robotic.
She wanted a child.
So, they broke up, and found others to marry.
She had a kid. He and his new wife didn’t.
The counselor didn’t get the commission on the robot child lease.
Eventually, the program was scrapped.
And replaced with kid gladiators.
They get awesome ratings on television.

Free background music from JewelBeat.com

Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com.

This is 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:

• Tom
• John Musico
• Munsi
• Jeffrey
• Richard
• Charlie
• Lizzie
• Serendipity
• Danny
• Zackmann
• Norval Joe
• Tura Brezoianu
• Planet Z

TOM

Promontory Summit

Six Pinkertons rode in the coach, at their feet rested the oak box lined in velvet. “Are thet really going to drive that thing into a tie? Asked Patrick O’ Connor. “Stanford won the honors in a poke game.” Said O’ Malley. “I’ll give you six to one he misses.” Said Michael Bennet. “I’ll give you ten to one he hit his foot.” Said Brian O’ Sullivan. They all started laughing, till the Captain enter the car, then fell silent. Captain dropped a double eagle into O’ Sullivan’s lap. “On the feet,” he said. Sure enough Stanford hit his foot.

JOHN MUSICO

John
Angel of Venice

Everyone knew Angel, gliding by on his rollerblades, adorned in an all white Indian wrap and turban, contrasting his African American skin, playing his electric guitar, amp in a backpack, while singing. He had that “not here-ness” that the 60’s acid days left some with. On the way to a concert, we saw him hitchhiking and picked him up. He played in the back seat all the way to his apartment where he reciprocated with a joint. It was by far the strongest weed I’d ever smoked. It seems that it wasn’t acid that fried Angel: the dubbie was dusted.

MUNSI

On the Topic of Spike

By Christopher Munroe

I hate to choose, but if forced to make a decision, my favorite Spike of all the spikes is Spike from My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic.

You heard me, Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I know it’s not what you wanted to hear, but you’re just going to have to live with it.

You’re just going to have to be undead with it.

You’re just going to have to continue having no idea who I am, and not caring what my opinion on the matter is.

Yeah, now that I consider it, probably that last one. Never mind…

JEFFREY

Health Food
by Jeffrey Fischer

Sammy drove the spike into his arm and pressed the plunger. He waited for the solution to take effect. After ten years addicted to heroin, throwing away countless thousands on increasingly-cut stuff, he decided he needed to get healthy. His new dealer promised him this mixture would do the trick.

When, after a half hour Sammy still felt nothing, he concluded Pedro had ripped him off. Sammy found and confronted the dealer.

“I didn’t rip you off, man. You got exactly what you paid for.”

“What *is* this shit?”

“A mixture of kale and broccoli juice. It’s healthy for you.”

“Kale? Aren’t you supposed to eat it, not put it in your arm?”

Pablo shrugged. “I figured injecting would intensify the effect. The guy at Whole Foods agreed.”

“Just give me a gram of China White.”

New Job
by Jeffrey Fischer

When Tony played pro football – that’s the American game, listeners, not that other football where the modal score is 0-0 – he was known as a passionate, driven competitor. He played hard on every down, whether running the ball into the defensive line or blocking for his receivers, and he celebrated with equal gusto.

After his playing career ended, Tony took a job with the local Babies R Us store. His manager told him, “Tony, we want you to work here with the same can-do attitude you had on the field.”

Later that day, Tony made his first sale, a crib for young parents and their infant son. When the couple said they’d take it, Tony celebrated. The entire store went quiet.”

“Tony, what did you do?”

“It was my end zone routine: dance, point at the fans, and spike the ball.”

“For God’s sake, Tony, you’re not supposed to do that with the babies.”

RICHARD

#1 – Marauders

Every harvest the Dark Marauders come and we’re forced to fight for our livelihoods. Savages, they are; ruthless, without pity or respect for the law.

The elders gathered the townspeople together: “If the Dark Marauders act like savages, then they must expect to be treated as savages”.

It was decided that every marauder captured would be executed and their head displayed upon a spike in the fields over which we fought.

And so it has been for many years.

Yet still the Dark Marauders come.

And still we lose our crops.

And our supply of spikes is all but gone.

#2 – A date to remember

I’d been chasing Sandy for weeks – eventually she gave in, agreeing to a date, a quiet drink in the local pub.

Everything was going perfectly: Witty conversation, plenty of laughter and we seemed to connect, but I wasn’t taking any chances – when she excused herself for a moment, I slipped a Rohypnol into her glass.

When she returned, she looked at me curiously: “You’re not the sort to spike a drink, are you?”, I shook my head, “You won’t mind drinking mine then?”, she laughed.

What choice did I have?

And how did I end up in this gay bar?

#3 – Scientifically flawed

They told us the spike in temperatures was because of the Gulf Stream; when it became apparent this was wrong, they blamed climate change and global warming.

When people starting getting sunburn in the middle of winter, we knew something was seriously wrong, but still they fobbed us off, explaining things away.

When, finally, they told us the earth was plummeting into the sun and we were all doomed, it became apparent why the scientists had set up their community on Mars.

And they’d told us it was because of the low gravity and lack of light pollution.

Bad science!

#4 – Tom

I was going to miss Tom.

I wouldn’t miss the constant chases, the heart-stopping moments and endless fights, but I would miss the satisfaction of seeing the broom handle descend upon his stupid, furry head and watching him being kicked bodily from the house, with me safe in my bolt hole with a belly full of stolen cheese.

The Mistresses’ fat legs appeared and she called hopefully: “Thomas! Thomas!”

But Thomas was nowhere to be seen.

I gave Spike the bulldog a grateful thumbs up, he gave me a knowing wink, before returning to his suspiciously furry pile of bones.

CHARLIE

My friend Ted had a large, fluffy, behind. We teased him about it, but he said “You can’t drive a spike with a tack hammer.” It had something to do with carpentry or rug laying, I think, but I asked around and found out it meant something different…something a little impolite. As a demure young woman, my sensibilities were roughened and scuffed. As a teen, I suppose I was overly prudish, but the summer after my visit to a co-ed, church camp, I came to know grown-up things, and had my first encounter with a spike and some motorized tools.

My first drinks were untouched, but the third and fourth were spiked with some kind of synthetic, Chinese concoction that a biker slipped into my drink when I stepped out with my date, Irene, to smoke. My first reaction to the drug was an overwhelming thirst. I had two more drinks, both spiked by my date. The combination of drugs in my system seemed to cancel each other out, so by two AM, I was fully functional, but still thirsty. I was told I beat two innocent bikers and a librarian, unconscious, but I had no memory of an altercation.

The power spiked just as the runaway bus rammed through the tall pole at the bottom of the street. A crossbeam touched the high voltage line when the pole toppled. Dad’s oxygen generator blew him up like a cheap balloon. The buttons on his pajamas popped as his chest expanded. They flew across the family room, spinning and bouncing. One of them broke Gran’s glasses, and one hit the parrot in the kitchen. Dad was OK, but frightened. Mom was grilling a Panini, and as the surge struck, it burst into flames, spreading to the fur collar on her robe.

LIZZIE

When he entered the room, a spike through his chest, everyone thought he was joking.
When he collapsed in agony, everyone thought his acting was brilliant.
When a puddle of blood appeared, everyone said “He’s awesome with special effects.”
When he begged for help, the room was ecstatic. “That’s why he’s the best,” some shouted.
When he didn’t move anymore, a speck of doubt crossed their minds. It only lasted a few seconds.
When everyone left, the police received an anonymous call.
There was a dead body on the floor alright. No spike though. It would be a long night.

SERENDIPITY

The inquisition has many instruments by which we may extract our confessions… The saw, the screw, the rack and the brand – each lovingly designed to exact exquisite pain and supreme suffering.

But these all pale into insignificance beside the simple spike.

Such a versatile, flexible tool of the trade: An instrument of slow, lingering, unpleasantries, or – if you prefer – the short, sharp, bitter sting of retribution.

The spike is crude, but effective, needs no adornment or assistance… mere body weight and pressure will suffice.

Perhaps you’ll allow me to demonstrate?

Please take a seat.

It’s the one with the spike.

DANNY

I look in the pantry and find a box of generic Frosted Flakes. “Is this an accident?” I asked my Dad. “No, I bought them on purpose,” he replied. “You know Frosted Flakes are nothing more than Corn Flakes sprayed with sugar?” Dad shrugs. Then there was a spike in my thinking, and the lightbulb of brilliance went off in my head. “A hand held liquid sugar sprayer. You can spray sugar on whatever you want, corn flakes, walls, floors, ceilings, whatever you want to eat sugar coated whenever you want!” Dad looks at me, and says, “Your an idiot.”

ZACKMANN

“What are you making?” asked Joe.

“A whittle of nothing.” replied Charlie.

“That nothing looks like a wooden dragon maybe Rory from Nutty Bites.”

“No, it’s that one form Friendship is Magic.” said Charlie

“I don’t remember him having a long straight sharp pointy tail like that.” commented Joe.

“Oh, I’m making a few like this for a guy’s girlfriend. He said she needed them this way for work but I think he may not want to admit he is a brony and really wants them for himself because I have never heard of any women actually being named Buffy.

NORVAL JOE

“Open the container, Mr. Picklehacker,” Aphasia demanded.
“I’ll lose my dark matter,” Bufford complained. “It’s taken years to obtain this. I won’t waste all of that.”
“Open it, or I will.” Aphasia grabbed the release valve.
Bufford leapt, but was too late. The agent pulled away the lid.
Desk drawer slammed open, books on shelves flew to the floor, and lights in the room dimmed for several minutes before returning to normal.
The door burst open. People entered, adjusting their tinfoil hats and the dials on their recorders.
“Here’s the source of the paranormal spike,” a crazy-haired, old woman shouted.

TURA

Spike
———
“There never were ninja throwing spikes,” my friend told me. We were nine years old, and he was always saying that this or that was just a story. “People throw them on YouTube, but they’re just imitating the story.”

Apparently, Damascus steel was a myth. “Vanadium in the ore makes the patterns,” he said. “Doesn’t make better swords.”

“Sex?” he said. “Biggest fairy story ever.” He never explained, just said darkly, “You’ll see.”

Then he stopped coming to school. We were told his family moved.

That was a long time ago, but I still wonder what the real story was.

PLANET Z

Know what the greatest love triangle was in all of history?
Tom, Jerry, and Spike.
Yes, I’m talking about the cartoon characters.
The cat, mouse, and dog.
Who else would I be talking about?
Do you know anyone else with those names?
No, I’m not talking about our neighbors.
That’s Bob, Sue, and Ethel.
Besides, Ethel’s banging the mailman.
So is Bob.
I’m banging Sue, too.
You’re banging Bob?
What about the mailman?
No?
Darn. I was hoping you could get some cheap stamps or something.
Maybe if he gets tired of Bob and Ethel, I’ll give him a shot.