The fool is most generous with his words, a flood of nonsense and spittle spills from his lips.
I pull out a handkerchief, wipe my face, and try to maintain my smile.
Thankfully, he does not test my comprehension of his prattle, but merely asks if I understand.
“Yes,” I say. “Do go on.”
Sadly, he does, and I am subjected to more nonsense, more unwelcome moisture, and occasional stray bits of gristle.
“Try fainting,” whispers Duchess Morgan in my ear.
I roll my eyes and go limp.
Servants “revive” me as the fool moves on to his next victim.
It’s Winter somewhere
Doris opens a beer, puts it in front of me.
“It’s five o’clock somewhere,” she says, and she opens one for herself.
I drink, and wonder if it’s Winter somewhere.
“Well, it’s Summer here, so maybe in Australia?”
I nod, pick up the phone, and try to remember if I know someone in Australia.
I check my contacts, look through my email, searched my Facebook friends…
It used to be you used phones to call people.
I put down the phone and drink my beer.
Somewhere, it’s Winter. And somewhere, it’s five o’clock.
But right here, my beer’s getting warm.
Weekly Challenge #275 – Armadillo
Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.
This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Seventy-Five, 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 Armadillo
How about voting for your favorites?
[polldaddy poll=5315303]
Gideon
Thomas
Tom
Danny
Zackmann
Daniel
TJ
Norval Joe
Relish
Planet Z
And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.
Gideon
This morning we chatted and planned our evening together.
“Let’s make it a romantic evening tonight. We’ll start with a nice dinner.
I found a recipe that should be fun. Could you stop by the market and get some armadillo?”
She agreed and we started our day.
She was late.
“Sorry, it took me awhile to find what you asked for”, she said.
I didn’t see any shopping bags with her.
“Where’s the meat?”, I said.
“What meat? You only asked for this”, she said, as she reached into her purse and pulled out her favorite vibrator.
Wrapped in Kevlar.
Thomas
Petro, the armadillo, lost his mate to a man in Peru. He used her strong, round back to make a lute. Petro escaped death by burrowing into the soil and deep into his den. Petro vowed to get revenge. He found his way to the musician’s adobe. He waited until the man left his home and then he dug a deep hole in the dirt floor and covered it with straw and a light covering of soil. When the man stepped on the trap inside his front door, he fell and broke the arms that held and played the lute.
Tom
FlyPaper Boy picked a few Mediterranean Fruits off his forearm “Curse you
Jerry Brown,” he spat. It was the millionth death of his father that had
set young FB on his quest to rid the world of politician. From his cell
FlyPaper Boy spied the tip of that boot that belong to one man and one man
alone, the greatest legal mind in Texas Armadillo Man. Not merely a mere
moral Armadillo Man had the power to cause the strongest soul to curl up
in ball and cry like a six year old girl.
Danny
Hello! Dod Dammit! My name is Cranky Skeebots McGee! I’m an old coot who lives in the sparse desert of Arizona. When I’m not being beaten by the racist cops in Arizona who mistaken me for being a Mexican Immigrant, I harvest dead Armadillo’s from the side of the road so I can eat some damn good stewed road meat! Then I take the shells of the Armadillo’s to make me some Armadillo Pillows! Sure, it hurts to lay your head upon one at first, but you get used to it. Now I lay me down to sleep, Dod dammit!
Zackmann
Our company is introducing a new car design that is inspired by our friend the armadillo. It has
a lightweight armor for the outer body. Therefore we chose the animal as the mascot. Inspired
by he way Disney had artists study the movement of real animals we sent our artist to the
zoo . When the artist returns from the emergency room his studies will continue outside their
zoo enclosure. Apparently they have really sharp teeth and may be unfriendly, Armadillos not
commercial artists. We need to have our ads done soon because we will have our product
launch at ArmadilloCon.
Daniel
A car sped down the desert highway; its driver failed to see the armadillo directly in its path. Squealing in surprise, the armadillo leapt in the air. Yet instead of splattering against the vehicle’s fender, the armadillo grew to 100 feet in length. The car passed harmlessly underneath it. The armadillo stayed frozen in the air as the video was paused and the lights came on.
The speaker addressed the audience once again. “As you can see, gentlemen, the phenomenon of ‘super powers’ is clearly not limited to humanity, but affects other species of the animal kingdom as well.”
TJ
“So … why the series of wacky disguises?”
Sarah smiled and sipped her Italian soda.
“Please, Marty, you’ve been on my radar for awhile now. Sneaking into
the girls lockerroom, those mysterious trips off campus, and all this
time at the mall not shopping. I knew the Mata Hari bit would get your
attention.”
“And the student i.d.?”
“You want armadillos, put out ants. You’re Catherine trying to attract
Heathcliff, you drop a handkerchief. You’re me trying to attract a spy,
you drop your i.d.”
“So long as you’re not my adoptive sister or something.”
“You’d probably have noticed that.”
Norval Joe
“We’re at his place, Ms. Flinch,” the chauffeur said through a speaker. The voice was familiar to Fly Paper Boy.
Esmerelda took a card from her stuffed armadillo purse. She leaned across the compartment toward the boy. Her eyes half closed, she handed him the card and said huskily, “call me in a few days and we can discuss the finer points of our arrangement.”
As he walked toward his house the chauffeur laughed and said, “good luck kid.”
The boy knew those beady eyes.
“Armadillo man,” he said. “I see Flinch takes favors from both sides of the fence.”
Relish
I had never heard of an Armadillo in my entire life. I blame city living and my lack of caring in school. Yet, there it was in the middle of my one bedroom apartment, a perfect giant Armadillo. At least, that is what the animal control lady told me. “They don’t even live in Pennsylvania. What kind of party did you have here last night?,” she asked, noticing the discarded cans and pizza boxes. “The theme was arm pillows. Arm pillow-Armadillo, easy mistake,” he grimaced. The female agent cuffed him. The Armadillo ate discarded pizza slices and refused to cooperate.
Planet Z
The nine-banded armadillo always gives birth to genetically-identical quadruplets.
After years of research, we isolated the polyembryonic genes and spliced them into other animals.
Sure enough, they produced four genetically-identical young.
Armadillos.
The rats gave birth to armadillos.
The pigs gave birth to armadillos.
The monkeys gave birth to armadillos.
Pretty soon, we were up to our asses in armadillos, scurrying around, burrowing into the trash.
We euthanized all the animal test subjects, closed the lab, and moved to a new city.
Which is good, because there’s better schools in this city.
My wife’s pregnant. The doctor says it’s… quadruplets.
A sticky situation
You heard about Joe?
Joe spends all day sniffing glue.
It all started when he was trying to glue two things together and they didn’t stick.
“Does glue go bad?” he asked his wife. “You know, like milk.”
“Does it have an expiration date?” his wife replied.
He looked for an expiration date on the bottle, but there wasn’t one.
“Nope. Maybe if I smell it…”
And that’s when the glue-sniffing started.
“No, really,” he’d say, as high as a kite. “I’m just checking to see if it’s still good.”
Then he’d sniff and let out a long, slow “Yessssssssssssssssssss.”
They call me Mister Spiffy
They call me Mr. Spiffy.
Not because I’m anything special or anything.
It’s my name. My name is Walter Spiffy.
Oh, sure, I think people are talking to Dad when they say “Mr. Spiffy” but Dad’s been gone for years.
Not dead. Gone.
Not very spiffy at all, really.
Left when I was twelve.
I guess things weren’t all that spiffy in the Spiffy Family.
Never gave a reason, just walked out the door and never came back.
He left his bowling shoes, too. He never went anywhere without those. Even the shower.
Check ’em out. Don’t they look spiffy?
The Sports Of The Bored
Bobby’s mother didn’t like how he just sat outside, watching grass grow.
“I’m in training,” mumbled Bobby. “I want to make Varsity this year.”
She got him books, but they sat in a pile while Bobby stared at the grass.
“Oh well,” she said. “At least he’s getting some sun. It sure is saving on the Vitamin D bills.”
Bobby kept watching the grass grow all Summer.
But when it came time for tryouts, Bobby didn’t make the cut.
“Joey got picked!” he cried. “And he’s already getting a letter for watching paint dry!”
“Good. Now mow the lawn, dammit.”
Who gives a damn?
Excuse me, but may I interrupt you for a moment?
Thank you.
I’m sorry, but why are you telling me all this?
Obviously, you have me confused with someone who gives a damn.
Me, I only have damns for sale. Three bucks a damn, thirty bucks for a dozen.
Quality damns, too. Mint condition, right from the factory.
No refurbished or recycled damns here.
Unless you’re paying for a damn, I’m not going to just give you one.
I mean, what would happen to my business?
I think you want the church next door.
Unlike me, they give a damn.
Disneyland
I remember when I was 9 and we forgot my mother’s birthday.
She didn’t get angry or beat us for it.
Instead, she just smiled and said “I guess I can’t keep it a secret any longer, but we’re going to Disneyland this Summer.”
No beatings? Disneyland?
Awesome!
When the day arrived to go to Disneyland, she told us to get our suitcases up from the basement.
“Quickly!” she said. “We’re going to the airport in an hour!”
We ran down the stairs.
Then, she slammed the basement door, locked it, and turned off the lights.
We screamed a lot.
A Common Error
The Sultan heard that one of his nieces had taken to walking around with a silver platter on her head.
He summoned her to the palace and watched as she walked with grace and speed.
“Her balance is most excellent,” said an adviser.
A general agreed, “This would help the troops in combat.”
So, the Sultan sent out the order that all soldiers put silver platters on their heads.
However, his people were barely literate, so they mistook his command for putting their heads on silver platters.
His army decapitated, the enemy easily conquered his country.
And took his head.
Weekly Challenge #274 – Dreams
Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com. I’m your host, Laurence Simon.
This is Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Seventy-Four, 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 Dreams
How about voting for your favorites?
Too bad. “The Poll Cannot Be Created” is back!
Gideon
Laina Ash
Zackmann
Tom
TJ Aman
Philip “Norval Joe” Carroll
Daniel W.
Planet Z
And if you want to spam your social networks with this episode, use the Share buttons at the end of the post.
We’re gonna try something new this week… yes, the Weekly Challengers are going to send in topic suggestions, but how about all you folks out there in the global Interwebs join in the topic-suggesting process by posting your topic suggestions in the comments!
(One of these days, SOMEONE will pot a comment… well, besides TJ checking in from the Big ND.)
Gideon
I have a unique ability – I can predict when changes will occur in my life.
Normally I do not remember my dreams but there are times when I will have a series of vivid, unrelated dreams that stay with me. After six months or so, when the dreams have been long forgotten, events will happen in my life that bring the dreams back to life. The dreams become real. Like déjà vu.
That déjà vu is always followed by a momentous change in my life.
Like the time three months ago when I dreamt I was a writer.
Oh. Shit.
……….
we fly
in the heavens
swooping
wingtip to wingtip
seeking fantasies
together
exploring
the visceral
the erotic
the mundane
clouds of joy
joined by our dreams
we glide
relishing
our shared collection
building the
clouds higher
stronger
glorious
pampering our love
we soar
the moist coolness
of the clouds
envelops us
making it real
then
the caged guinea pigs
of our minds
spin their wheels
furiously
spreading away
the wisps of cloud
we fall
reaching out
grasping in vain
passing our creations
quickly disappearing
clouds of love
we land
safely
two feet on solid ground
our dreams
a faint memory
Elaine
She woke with a cold sweat hoping it was not a dream.
It was all so real, the sight of him smiling, so endearing, so loving.
She could have sworn she felt the warmth of his skin.
The touch of his lips against hers.
Him wrapping his arms around her, him breathing softly her favorite words “Hey Baby..” as she nuzzled into him, the safeness she can never forget.
Yet looking upon his made up side of her bed and the coldness of his ring on the necklace on her chest, she knew this dream was still her nightmare instead…
Zackmann
Peoples of Earth and Crustitia, I know it was a long war and we are rebuilding after hard times
but I have a dream a dream that some day Humans and the lobster people of Crustitia will stand
hands and claws together thinking of each other as friend instead of delicious.
As we were fighting each other and consuming each other…I mean consuming each other’s
resources other powers have become way too strong.
I have a dream that we fight side by side and not only defeat the Space Turtles’ planet but
eventually our biggest menace Planet Z
Tom
Unlike Norval Joe I write my stories in the bath tub, but like Norval Joe (and who wouldn’t) I always go with the first thing that pops into my head, which can be quite painful if it is through the frontal lopes or inner ear. The second thing I do first is choose the music for the sound bed I like to do that in, well, bed. This week I could use Sweet Dreams or Dreamer, Dream a Little Dream of Me, or Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream Dream or I Dream of Jenny, How many words was that?
TJ
Martin caught a flash of red hair as the girl ducked into the Topkapi.
She pulled her hoodie up, shifting her oversized yellow purse to the
outside and crossing to a Hot Topic to watch him pass. She pulled the
blue wig from her bag and shed the hoodie, luxuriating in the A/C across
her naked shoulders and haltertop as she slinked along behind him. He
stopped, and she caught up with him. “Sarah?” he asked, handing her
an I.D. “I thought that was you,” he said to the girl of his dreams.
“You dropped this about three looks back.”
Norval Joe
Fly Paper boy felt more like an animal in a trap than a passenger in a limousine. Esmerelda Flinch, Vice President of marketing at the Women’s Trade Federation, smiled with straight, pearly teeth from across the compartment. The was no humor in her eyes.
“I’ll have a team of the best lawyers in the state make light work of your case,” she told the boy. “In your wildest dreams, you or your parents couldn’t afford such talent.”
“I have a feeling the WTF will make me pay some other way,” Fly Paper boy said, cynically.
Suddenly Esmerelda’s eyes did smile.
Daniel W.
“Okay, back up a sec,” I said, feeling a headache coming on. “Explain that one again…”
“They’re metaphysical parasites that latch on to dreams and feed on imagination.”
“And that’s why people are becoming more apathetic?”
“Yes. As they become less imaginative, they also become more complacent. The government has truly created the perfect tool for controlling the masses.”
My headache just kept getting worse as I tried to understand the concept. Metaphysical parasites? What?
“Hell, if those infected try to think outside the parasites’ preprogrammed parameters, they’ll just get a massive headache that forces them to stop.”
Planet Z
One company developed a system that broadcasted signals into people’s dreams. They used it to put advertisements in there, much like product placement in the movies.
Another company developed a system that acted as a dream wiretap. They used it to sense what people wanted or worried about, then target them with ads based that information.
Both companies got bought out by an evil billionaire, and their systems were combined into a global mind-control ray.
A certain British spy tried to stop him, but instead of telling him about his plan, he shot the spy.
He was evil, not stupid.