Money

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I know one guy who’s just rolling in money
No, I’m not rolling in money. And even if I were, I don’t think rolling in money is a very productive thing to do.
Invest it. Spend it. Save it.
But roll in it?
That’s just weird.
Then there’s the guy with money to burn.
That’s just fucking crazy. Burning money.
Sometimes, he dangles the money over the flame to tease me.
Once these two guys got together, and they ended up rolling in burning money.
I grabbed what I could, buried the charred corpses, and bought a ticket to Reno.

Not taking names

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I’m here to kick ass, but I’m not going to take names.
I forgot to bring a pen and paper. And it’s hard to take names on an iPhone when you’re kicking ass.
Sure, the phone has a decent keyboard, but it’s only good when you’re standing still.
Kicking ass jiggles your phone around a lot, and you’ll make a lot of spelling errors.
So instead of kicking ass and taking names, I’m just going to kick ass and then let the police check your wallet for your ID.
You left it at home?
Fine. He’ll use your dental records.

Weekly Challenge #207 – Alliteration

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Six, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Alliteration!
According to Wikipedia:

Alliteration is a literary or rhetorical stylistic device that consists in repeating the same consonant sound at the beginning of two or more words in close succession. An example is the Mother Goose tongue-twister, “Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers …

VOTING

Which were the best stories this year?
Anima and Arri
Ross
Zachmann
TJ
Norval Joe
JRadimus
Justin
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):


Anima

I´m plauged by a dastardly demon, a robotic ruler
who harangues and harasses hundred of words out of me.
Each week I resist, I rant and I rave
determined that this week I shall be free.
On Monday eve, I start to take my leave,
determined not to learn of the next theme.
But by Friday morn I´ve perused the poll,
and am mocked by the monkey meme.
So each week I bring tribute, mosaics of memories;
Feverishly, from my fingers flow these fictions.
From home and afar, I submit. I submit.
And lament the laxity of my linguistic locutions.

Ross

Richard rushed across the room to his typewriter. Rolling in a sheet of clean white paper, he mumbled to himself as his fingers flew over the keys. His muse was in full force today, and he could feel this, his first novel, would be his masterpie-
*clunk*
With a cry, he pulled apart jammed keys, sobbing as one letter’s head cracked cleanly off its rod. He tried to continue anyway:
“.ucius .amed .achrymose .abradors .ackadaisica..y”
It was no use. He ripped the paper free and buried his head in his arms.
For want of an “l”, the debut was lost.

Zachmann

Peter Parker listens to Peter Piper’s podcast persistently unpleased Peter Piper prepaired pickled peppers but never posted how Peter Pickled peppers on the vine. Peter has a place where he prepares peppered peaches. Although Peter listens to Piper’s podcast his problem with his pink petunias persisted. Peter Piper’s pussycat purrs persistently although it’s predominantly pissed off even when pouncing on its pony plush toy . As Peter’s program plays, postman Percy peruses a Pratchett book in which the Patrician’s Palace has a predominate place. Peter Parker pontificates Peter Piper’s pussy’s problem as posting him a parcel packed with pink petunias.

TJ

The MATS matinee of “Let’s Murder Marsha” marked a magnificent magnum opus by a mellifluous dramatis personae. Christine Morse played Marsha with moxie and Graham “The Man” Toler was downright muppety. Amanda made a remarkable maid and Kirk made a maestro Mr. Gilmore. Angie played a Persis to perfection and Jerry jumped out as a gendarme.Last but not least Ceecy’s Lynette was a lark as a lush and it all came together tremendously. Now, if all of you will get out of my head for a moment I’m gonna take the next week off to unwind and welax and wecover.

Norval Joe

Crouching crow-like creatures crept and crawled from the crumbling, creeper covered crypt. Whimpering and whining they wheeled away, wickedly taloned wing tips, whisper in the wind.
A single soul sits so silently she seems asleep.
Suddenly she stands straight. Frantic, she flees the frenetic flying fiends.
Running, she races the rabid rooks. Refuge is revealed through red brick arches.
Safe, she sighs and shivers, secure inside the sealed sanctuary.
Tenacious and terrible the tiny terrorists torment and tap wickedly without the windows.
Rescuers arrive to destroy the angry assailants and release the horrified heroine.
Happy, she hugs her handsome hero.

JRadimus

Arrgh! All my days, I am again and again admonishing
Litterbugs to leave and let me have a lone lazy
Leisure-filled lark on my lush lawn.
In intelligent interview, I insist they are impeding inherent
Tranquility. Yet, they tarry and try my temper. To tame my
Ever-ready energy is an even edgier evocation I’d
Really rather regret releasing. Ridiculous revelry wreaks
Aggression and animosity as I avoid
Turning to tussles over trespasses. Time tames my
Irritation. I insist I invite no intrusion into my
Orbit. Ordinary objects do not obstruct my
Need for niceties. I know I’m not neurotic, no?

Justin

increasing Ivan’s income because he was industrious, Isaiah indentured Ivan and inundated him with idiotic inquisitions. Instead of indulging Isaiah, Ivan became insubordinate. Inciting an insurrection, Ivan included others in the incapacitation of the inglorious incubators of evil. Ingesting them impulsively, Ivan increased in immensity. In the end, Ivan learned that imbibing them increased his intellect. Instead of inclining towards illustriousness, Ivan instead inclined entirely to abstaining from alliteration. Then he read about how cannibalism was frowned upon and regurgitated all the evil, unlearning all.

Planet Z

Martin took the package into the basement, beyond the range of the scanners, and opened it.
A book. An actual book. Before e-books. Before censorship.
Before the scanners.
It was dictionary, and he started with A.
He saw words he’d never seen or heard before.
And some he’d heard as a child, his grandfather teaching them to him.
Before they took him away.
He was reading about “alliteration” when the door was kicked in.
The Librarian Squad dragged him off.
An agent looked at the book, ran a finger down the page.
“Allowable,” he said.
And got out his lighter.

Behind Enemy Lines

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The architect designed a beautiful cathedral for the city, but the builder was slightly deaf, so when he heard “Confessional Booth” he thought he heard “Concession Booth.”
Things looked normal until the builder handed the job off to the decorators and the spot where parishioners were supposed to confess their sins, ended up a gaudy-colored alcove with glass counters under which candy bars were displayed.
The archbishop was outraged.
Until he saw how much revenue the large popcorn and Coke combo pack was bringing in.
“Besides,” he said to the cardinal, “We’re sick of hearing the same old crap confessed.”

The Cockroach

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The only words I know from the song La Cucaracha are the opening words.
I don’t know Spanish, so the supposedly rich satirical madness of the song has eluded me for all my life.
I’ve looked online for the lyrics, but you can’t trust Wikipedia these days. And those automatic translators end up garbling the words.
So, I went to the library and asked the librarian for help.
She sat me down at a table, clapped her hands, and a Mariachi band came by my table to play.
Pen in hand, I copied down what I could.
And tipped them.

Gravy Boat

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“Why do they call it a gravy boat?” I asked.
“Because there’s tiny German submarines in it,” said Grampa. “I bagged my share of Nazis, but there’s always one around the corner.”
Grampa was never in the army or navy. He drove his Buick into one of their Supreme Court-upheld Free Speech marches, and it was a miracle nobody got killed.
Well, okay. Maybe not the right use of the word miracle.
Anyway, they took away his license, and we’re stuck with him now.
I watched a tiny periscope rise… and then sink.
Just butter for my mashed potatoes, please?

The Viking Attack

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It was around two in the morning that Mike the security guard got it in his head to protect the office building from Viking attack.
Maybe it was his medication, or it could have been the booze.
Probably both.
He didn’t have a backhoe to dig a moat or pile up earthworks, but he did manage to park the golf cart in the lobby to block the doors.
Soda machines were far too heavy for him to move, but couches from the lobby were perfect.
When he was fired, he disputed the termination with: “Well, no Vikings got through, right?”

Miracle Season

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Another Opening Day at Wrigley Field, which means another disastrous season for the Cubs.
Ball after ball sails over the brick wall, and fans are booing and leaving before the inning is through.
It was halfway through another losing season that The Miracle happened.
The outfielder with the bloated multiyear contract and batting two hundred chased a fly ball into the ivy… and never emerged.
He was gone.
The umpire stopped the game, and the crew searched.
No sign of the player.
The game was called, and the FBI searched.
They never found him, and his replacement played much better.

Easter Aftermath

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Easter is not a holiday I look forward to.
The kids want baby chicks and bunnies, but that the dog might not get along with them.
The dog I walk. And feed.
They cry. I tell them to shut up and go to their rooms.
This year, Joey got special candy, being diabetic and all, but his sister Sally shared some of hers with him.
Instead of hunting for eggs, we rushed to the Emergency Room.
When we got home, the dog had eaten all the chocolate and was lying on the carpet, dead.
Better him that Joey, I thought.

Weekly Challenge #206 – Danger Zone

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Six, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was… was…. um…
It’s Danger Zone!
VOTING

Which were the best stories this year?
Steven
Zachmann
Ross
TJ
Anima
R. Orion D.
Keeme
Norval Joe
Justin
JRadimus
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):


Steven

The bomb disintegrates the glass wall of the bank in the musical
disharmony of a thousand xylophones in a trash compactor. The
concussion throws me and the few others who were standing in line to
the ground. My mouth serves up a single whispered word:
“terrorists”. I scan the area for bearded, turbaned men before I
remember to feel guilty.
The plump woman beside me wears a dress cut too low for her. I wonder
how I have time to notice her clothes. She points at the masked and
spandexed figures entering the bank and whispers:
“Not terrorists. Worse. Villans.”

Zachmann

I am the super hero called FlagMan. My job is to warn you that you are about to enter the Danger Zone in the middle of which is the Danger Hole. Have you ever noticed how many people podfaded. Many volunteered to make the search when Christiana did not return from the Danger Hole and were never seen again. Poor, brave souls. I will do what I can to stop you form entering but hope that only involves you heeding my warning. Did I mention the panthers, giant rats, and evil mimes. Stay away from the Danger Zone.

Ross

“WHAT did you just say?” Charlene asked, interrupting John mid-response.
John mentally reviewed what he had said and blushed. He fidgeted on the couch, staring at his hands, the floor, anywhere to avoid eye contact with his visibly irate girlfriend.
“What I meant is- Um, I mean- Well, I was just saying-” he stammered.
“You want to watch what you say next, honey. You’re already in the danger zone. What comes out of your mouth is going to seal your fate.”
John forced himself to meet her angry stare. “Uh, I’m really sorry?”
“You’re STILL sleeping on the couch tonight.”

TJ

Interstellar sophistos have been avoiding the system Sol Toxa for millions of years. A touring package at the time parked on Ganymede and slipped past Mars and Terra on a fuel run to Venus. During the layover, the runabout carrying the chancellor’s daughters failed orbit and sank inexorably into the gravity well of the planet. Plumes of sulfuric acid escaped the fuel cells of the pleasurecraft and reacted with the atmosphere. The lawsuit was astronomic. The entire system was declared an environmental hazard and a danger zone. Beacons were placed and no-one’s been back since – not even on a dare.

Anima (with Arri)

Joey looks up, startled by the loud noise to his right. He ducks instinctively, covering his ears and closing his eyes. Shrapnel rains down, peppering him with fragments of glass and the remains of the lamp from the living room.
Counting to twenty three (ten isn’t enough time), he slowly allows himself to uncurl from the fetal position he has learned to assume to minimize injury. Joey squints, surveying the damage. Everything seems calm; the dust is settling. He sees his older brother staggering towards the kitchen.
When Dan’s been drinking all day, home is the danger zone, downtown Kirkik.

R Orion D

Ever wonder why people jump from a perfectly good airplane? I do. Not all the time, mind you, but right now. Especially with the flashing lights of “Mr. Service With Integrity” blinding me in the mirror. The Skydiver jumping from 10,000 feet had the option to stay on the plane till it landed. I could of pulled over after running the light 10 miles ago.
Now with heart racing, everything moving in slow motion, and a likely stay at county I’m grinning like a mad man. Am I? No. That’s far from the truth.
You only live once.

Keeme

The ship found after being lost in space for so long. This is the account by the only known survivor, in his own words. “I can’t stop thinking about the others, they haunt me so. I only ever thought of me, me, me! I know I left them out there, but they never gave me any respect! ‘Don’t leave me alone. Wait for me!’ They laughed when I cried. That machine with its ‘DANGER’ this and ‘affirmative’ that. No one messes with ME. Now we’re doomed means YOU’RE DOOMED! Oh, the pain, the pain.” Dr Smith

Norval Joe

Charlie the gnome froze at the edge of the concrete walk that lead from the street to the front door. His signature inane grin spread between the stylized apple red cheeks.
The danger zone. It was folly to cross it, especially during the day. He could move anywhere in the garden, as long as he was carefull. The humans were too stupid to remember where they had placed the decorative statuette.
He couldn’t wait till dusk. His arch nemesis, Senior Gargago, el gnomo de jardin, was already about to slip under the neighbors fence and out of Charlie’s grasp, forever.3206

Justin

Price examined the map and sighed. With the damage the ship had sustained, the only route fast enough to get his crew home before the remaining fuel ran out would take them through the Adumreb Elgnairt. He’d have to have a careful talk with the superstitious sailors to avoid mutiny.
Once the sailors fears were compared with a sure death at sea, they rallied to risk the Adumreb Elgnairt.
The ship moving as fast as possible, Price’s worst fear came true. Mere feet in front of the bow a ship appeared from thin air. All hands were lost at sea.

JRadimus

“On your first day at the mill, they drill it into your head about safety, staying clear of the “danger zones”. They thought that was a clever name for the parts of the machines any fool should have known to stay clear of, anyway.
“Fast-forward 10 years, you develop a rhythm. You become one with your machine. You learn how much buffer they built in to their ‘danger zones’, and you take short-cuts. That’s how veterans keep up with more nimble rookies. Well, don’t. It’s stupid.”
“Well, thank you for that wisdom, Mr. Johannsen.”
“Just call me ‘Hook’. Everyone does.”

Planet Z

There hasn’t been a soul in Danger Zone, Utah in over 100 years.
It wasn’t a mining town, but a trading post that built up as prospectors headed West to seek their fortune.
Provisions, hookers, gambling… they had it all.
The problem was, of course, was that this all was in Utah, and they didn’t like all that going on right under their noses.
So, there was a fire. And those who tried to rebuild, they had another fire.
All that remained standing was the church.
But with nobody left in Danger Zone, well, what was the point of it?