Weekly Challenge #147 – Running With The Cool Kids

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Forty-Seven 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 Running With The Cool Kids.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which stories were the best of Weekly Challenge #147?
Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com/
Daily Panic from http://adayonorbedge.blogspot.com/
Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
Daphne from http://daphneandtamara.libsyn.com/
Guy David from http://guydavid.com
Ashley
Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
Terrence from http://www.mcleanweb.ca/neverwas
Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
Mike P. from http://mjpaxton.com
Michael S.
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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


Caleb

In my rural high school the cool kids were all Jesus freaks but I couldn’t stop from asking, “if Jesus wanted to get his message to mankind, why’d it take hundreds of years to reach western Europe and another thousand to reach the new world? The cool kids just told me to shut it.
But when Shiva, The Destroyer, came to Monroe High wielding swords of flame to mow down the nonbelievers; I found myself running for my life with the cool kids.
Down to the Burger Shack. Gotta have one last bacon double cheeseburger before converting to Hinduism. OM

Daily Panic

In the fifth grade, he smoked cigarettes. He was the first guy to date a girl. All of his friends were cool; hanging with them just happened. We all rode our bicycles together in the neighborhood. By the eighth grade, the cool kids had older siblings that had driver’s license. From riding bikes to riding in cars, the cool kids went places. Boundaries pushed. We all felt bigger than life, rules or guidance.
Today grown up, those cool kids are still cool. We are parents, policemen, fire fighters, film makers, school teachers, coaches, and fifth grade smoker became a mayor.

Justin

When I was too young to remember, my parents took me to Nepal. A goat-herder found me wrapped in blankets, my parents outside the tent, dead from sickness. He took me in and raised me as his own. I was about seven when the village was slaughtered by raiders. I nearly died from exposure in the Himalayas, where I had fled when the village was ignited. I was rescued by a yeti. I was treated like an outcast for a while by the other yeti children, but before long I was playing with them like I was one of them.

Daphne

Susan spent the summer making herself over. She saved up enough money and got a new clothes, shoes and make-up. She spent her evenings trying on outfits until she got it just right. The first day of school was coming and she was ready for it. Well almost ready. Due to a freak storm it was 25 degrees and very icy on that day. Susan didn’t care she was wearing her outfit as is, no coat, no boots. The bus stop was cold and icy. She learned running with the cool kids can lead to frostbite and sprained ankles.

Guy David

I had to join the party, I mean, let’s face it… they had the best ice suits around. Their agenda didn’t matter. What mattered was their beautiful blue skins, the rolling popsicle hairs of the candidates. I just wanted to be one of them. I went through the ritual acceptance ceremony, then I was in, fitted with my very own shiny ice suit. I was in, then we got elected.
Later that year, after the country was ruined by the war I decided to drop my membership. The red devils where the new cool kids, so I joined them instead.

Ashley

“If you want to keep running with the cool kids, you’ll stop thinking and just throw it,” said Jake.
I closed my eyes and heaved, then ran for my life with the rest. Glancing back, I saw Jessica covered in eggs and weeping.
About twenty years later I looked her up to tell her I was sorry and that I didn’t deserve her forgiveness.
She responded by offering compassion and, after awhile, her heart.
In high school I treated Jessica with scorn. If the fates allow, I will happily spend the rest of my life treating her like a queen.

Norval Joe

I was in high school in the late 70’s.
We had all the normal cliques; jocks, rah-rahs, burn outs, geeks, band freaks, drama fags, born agains, and student government.
There was some crossover; jocks in student government, burn outs in drama, and lots of geeks in the band. Whether you felt you were running with the cool kids or not, was mostly your own psychology.
There was one girl, named Janine, that was always alone; in class, at lunch and walking home.
I regret that I was too absorbed in my own psychology to make her welcome in our crowd.

Terrence

They all line up at the starting line. The boy stands in the first lane, ready for the gun to fire.
Bang!
The boy takes off, his legs pumping, ignoring the crashing and snapping sounds behind him as the finish line gets closer with each stride. His heart beats heavy and his shoes pound down into the ground. Sweat rolls down his face as he breaks the tape. Raising his arms in victory the boy yells out a cheer.
“I win!”
Looking back he sees the broken stick arms and snapped carrot noses. No snowman will ever out run him.

Tom

Jimmy was buck naked. He had just moved to Juno so badly wanted to fit in he was willing to join in the 1000 yard dash in the snow. Unfortunately for Jimmy and the other cool kids it was also the local wolf pack’s Run For Hungry 500 yard dash. The scene was like a arctic San Fermín. Fur and flesh snow and blood. Jimmy would have made it to the safety of the gym if only he had been able to get around Sarah Palin. Seem she’s a better shot from a plane then the ground. Too bad Jimmy.

Anima

Abe was stumped.
The Ball was his invitation into “polite society”, and he wanted to make a good first impression. Growing up in rural Kentucky, Abe had never “run with the cool kids”. Here it was Thursday, and he still hadn’t decided on a date for the weekend.
There was saucy Rebecca Stevens, with her fiery wit, or social Mary Todd, with a sweet temperament and a rich daddy.
Scratching the stubble on his chin, Abe reached into his pocket, pulled out a penny, and flicked it in the air.
“Heads it’s Mary, Tails, ‘Becca,” he said, smirking to himself.

Mike P.

In any social circle, you have to start at the bottom and work your
way up. It’s no different with the cool kids.
You have to start out working the water stops. For a while, you’re
doing nothing but filling cups with water and Gatorade.
After a year or so, you’re allowed to jog along with them and wipe
sweat off their foreheads.
Two or three years of that, and they’ll let you help them quick-change
into fresh running shorts (preventing chafing is key).
At that point, you’re no more than a decade from running with the cool kids.

Michael S.

I’ve always been a jogger and since I sweat in a snowball fight it stands to reason I’ve always been a sweater.
The older I get the more I sweat but I’ve noticed this young crowd doesn’t sweat a drop.
How do they do that?
I also noticed they invite me to jog with them.
It makes them look good and makes me look like I’m the only one really working on the task at hand.
Me ……….. I call it running with the cool kids.

Planet Z

Valentine’s Day in the embryo vault, buried below what’s left of the Antarctic frost.
There are nine redundant monitoring systems. When all nine find a fault, it is repaired. When one finds a fault or fails to find a fault with the others, it is repaired by the engineering robots.
We put these systems on a combination of solar and wind power. It runs on its own, keeping the children of the future cyrogenically protected from what their ancestors are doing to the present.
But in true short-sighted fashion, we have yet to build the revival and automated nanny systems.

Straight Up

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If you ask a robot where home is, it usually points to its recharging station.
So when the Andersons’ new service droid pointed straight up, I assumed that it meant the attic.
After the survey of Oak Falls was complete, no other robot in my survey had an attic charging station.
Return to Washington?
No. Not yet.
I went back to the Andersons’ house and asked the robot again, but while we were outside.
It pointed up again.
That’s when the lights appeared in the sky.
“Where is home?” The robot asked.
It seems we have our profession in common.

The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln #100

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Bill Herndon opened his former law partner’s letter and read the final line once more:
I’m coming back sometime, and then we’ll go right on practicing law as if nothing had ever happened.
Strange events had been happening since Abe died.
Odd noises at night.
Books removed from shelves.
Papers strewn on the floor.
It was when the unconscious prostitute appeared on his desk did Herndon fear for the worst.
“Abe liked his post-trial hookers,” he chuckled, and he sent for a exorcist. “You’ve done enough, old friend. It’s time to rest.”
The whore fell to the ground, still comatose.

Demolition Derby

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Hey, man!
Bored with football?
Tired of all these baseball players juicin up?
Hockey not bloody enough for you?
Lemme tell you about a new sport: communication satellite demolition derby!
All it takes is override commands, some maneuvering propellant, and a decent grasp of orbital physics.
There’s nothing quite like watching two expensive chunks of metal surrounded by gigantic solar arrays smashing into each other, leaving tiny sparkling fragments to cloud the the skies for all eternity.
Call your friends. Point your telescopes to the sky. Place your bets.
Then put on your crash helmets and watch the aerial carnage!

Molly

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By day, Molly Scott’s soul is where it belongs – inside Molly, making Molly uniquely Molly.
If you’ve read her books, you’ll know what I mean. Children’s books totally unsafe for children. “Cooking With Broken Glass” and “Boogertime Blues” are favorite of mine.
At night, her soul wanders and resides in a CPR dummy in Fairfax.
It was during a late First Aid class that I discovered this phenomenon. Five chest compressions, pinch the nose, breathe in, and a slow, faint whisper: this is why I do not dream.
No movement, no animation. Just plastic.
I switched to a cooking class.

The Alchemist

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The world is turning to bright yellow glass.
The Alchemist. I have to see her.
She has the pills I need.
Her blend of phase-anchoring nanobots and cellular dimensional disruptor isotopes aren’t cheap.
What’s your task?
Reach across time for an artifact?
Disrupt the future for a prophesy.
Bring me a Weaver Crystal, she says. Red.
Ah. Materials collection.
Easy.
I reach through space to The Hive, my hand brushing across Clusterdrones from cave to cave.
I break off a shard and hand it to the Alchemist.
Orange will do, she mutters, and my lead-weave pouch is full once again.

Shaving

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Every time I shave, I miss a few hairs.
It doesn’t matter how many blades my razor has or what kind of shaving cream I use.
Hairs appear in the mirror, or I run my fingers across my face and they spring back out of my skin.
It’s frustrating.
I used a cream that a friend suggested that women use to remove the hair from their legs, but that didn’t work, either.
There was this pad advertised on television. Tiny crystals that lift and exfoliate.
After one use, my face was smooth.
Then, slick. With blood.
My skin was gone.

Weekly Challenge #146 – Animal Cruelty

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Forty-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 Animal Cruelty.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #146?
Sherry from http://www.sherrydramsey.com/
Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
Guy David from http://guydavid.com
Justin http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
Jeffrey from Http://greathites.blogspot.com
Hedgie
Serge
Ashley
Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
Michael S.
Michael P.
Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com/
Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
Terrence from http://www.mcleanweb.ca/neverwas
Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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


Sherry

Someone warned them.
By the time we arrived, the perpetrators had fled, leaving those poor
creatures behind. You couldn’t call them pets. Victims, maybe. Experiments.
We opened the cages, coaxed the survivors out. They were cold, shivering.
We wrapped them in blankets and led them to the waiting vans.
A female watched me with eyes that were not quite ready to trust. “Will you
catch them?” she whispered.
I shrugged. “They’re sly. If they don’t want to be caught…”
She stared into the passing forest, wondering, perhaps, if her torturers
watched from the shadows. “I hate cats.”

Tom

In 1979 I was going through a nasty divorce. Having a great deal of aggression and time on my hands I started hanging out in a “d&d” pub next to the university. At the F Bandersnatch pub they played a version of the game laid out by members of the Society For Creative Anachronism. Three nights a week I’d hack and slash assorted monsters into the wee hours of the night. The DM was rather fond of hybrid beasts call ducks. The story goes they were either humans cursed with feathers or birds cursed with intell- igence. Talk about animal cruelty.

Guy David

The forest whispered to Anna. She crawled dipper into the closet. The
forest creatures where coming for her, and she knew they where going
to skin her alive, then tear her apart limb by limb. She was
terrified, but she was also prepared. She clutched the little device
the strange man of the forest gave her and activated it. The closet
started to spin around her, became a blur, then it disappeared
altogether. She was no longer there. The forest creatures would have
to feed on some other poor soul today. She thanked the spirit of
human ingenuity for teleports.

Justin

While filming the Brazilian Drought, a wild dog attacked my wheelchair bound brother. Before it ripped out his throat, I killed it with a shovel. A spying environmentalist became outraged. Security removed him. Later, he took a shot at me while I was birdwatching alone near the São Francisco River. While chasing me, he cut his leg. I saw them just under the surface of a shallow section of a creek. I climbed a tree and tossed my binoculars across the water. He waded in, thinking I’d crossed. The blood enticed the hungry piranhas, which took most of his leg.

Jeff

Mad Scientists get a bad wrap for many things. Bringing down bridges, thwarting the hopes of some goodie-two-shoes want-a-be hero. But mostly we get blamed when anything goes wrong. Well I for one am not getting blamed this time. I am not going down for this one. Some fool over at the palace decided it would be a good idea not to let any of the slaves go, and now there are frog and gnats and locust everywhere. Talk about cruelty to animals, what are those things supposed to eat. I tell you it’s like someone brought down the wrath of God.

Hedgie

Andy awoke, hungover, and walked toward the kitchen. The coffee can was
empty. He dressed, deciding on a Starbucks run, went to the front door and
turned the knob. It wouldn’t open. A noise was outside. Voices without
words. The windows were covered with wood. What the hell was going on
here? Andy looked up in a panic. Metal bars replaced his roof. The clouds
were dark promising rain. He also noticed something else. Hundreds of eyes
peered down on him. Bodies and faces covered with fur, feathers and scales
stared and pointed at the human in his natural habitat.

Serge

The eyes, unblinking and unfocused, stared at him from beneath the
transparent crust. Its last flight had been cut abruptly short by a simple
lifeless stone. The boy did not find the bird until next morning. It had
fallen into the pond just a meter away from the shore. Curious, he touched
the frozen wing sticking out from underneath the ice – a strange and
unfamiliar feeling grew inside him. At home he smashed the sling into the
wall in silent anger and cried. He would go back many times until the spring
thaw, when the bird was no longer there.

Ashley

Back when I was in high school, I used to trap. Yes, we’re talking
double spring steel traps for small fur-bearing animals, raccoons and
nutria mostly. When I left for Army basic training, I stopped trapping.
When I returned and entered college, I found that I no longer had the
urge to run a trap line. Nothing against trappers, but I remember just
too many toes left in sprung traps. There is no doubt animals suffer
when caught in a leg trap. Though I still enjoy looking at tracks on the
creek, trapping no longer holds any appeal for me.

Anima

Canines and Felines of the jury:
Ignore your emotions. Only weigh the evidence when deciding about William
Wegman.
Consider how he tortured Man and Fay Ray for years, isolating them from
their pack,
anthropomorphing them… robbing them of their canine dignity.
Wegman exploited the Rays from early puppyhood to their last days,
expecting, no, DEMANDING obedience. He dressed them for his perverted
pleasures, and profited from his dogsploitation!
You’ve seen the photos – hundreds of them. Recall the haunted looks, the
humiliating postures, the demoralization of these once proud dogs.…
Let justice be served – Find Wegman guilty of Gross Animal Cruelty!

Michael S.

I drag my human along when we go for a walk.
I bark at the empty closet and my human gets scared and jumps up to
investigate.
I lift my leg and mark my territory when my human visits a friend.
I chase the garbage truck and the mailman with total disregard for my human
begging me to stop.
Sure it’s a bit mean, maybe even spiteful but I don’t think we should call
it animal cruelty. That’s a bit too strong if you ask me.

Mike P.

Jeanine the Badger stepped to the edge of the platform. “Residents of
the forest! Witness what we do today! The Kingfisher beyond the river
has sentenced Brian the Squirrel to be beheaded for the following
crimes: Theft. Kidnapping. Impersonating a representative of the
crown.”
Brian smirked. His favorites were coming up.
“Willful disobedience of gravity. And selling fruit and nuts without a
license.” Jeanine nodded at the hooded executioner. The cobra
attempted to lift the axe, but was unable to actually grasp it. He
looked helplessly at Jeanine. She growled.
Animal cruelty is often prevented by lack of opposable thumbs.

Caleb

if you go out in the woods today
You’re in for a big surprise.
If you go out in the woods today
You’d better go in disguise.
For every bear there ever was
Will gather for certain, because
Today’s the day the teddy bears go ethnic cleansing.
battle time for teddy bears,
Those horrid teddy bears are having a bloody time today.
Killing Feeding unawares,
see them murder ing each other for holiday.
See them ripping eyeballs out.
They love to scream and shout.
And eat the other bears.
then there’s no more teddy bears
Because they all are dead

Norval Joe

There was tension in the break room. Finally, Tom spoke, ” I realize there is public
concern about animal cruelty, but I have a job to do. It’s Disney’s fault! He
animated animals and gave them human emotion. Now everyone expects dogs and mice to
think and feel like people.
“First, we can’t have alcohol on the job. Then they take away tobacco and ethnic
stereotypes. Well, let the script writers figure out how to eliminate violence and
still have a show.”
Tom stood. Jerry and Spike just rolled their eyes as they followed him back to the
sound stage.

Terence

One would think than having read the good book you would know what was going
to happen, but Raoul knew better. After all he had been written out;
however, not even Raoul had expected the end to come in the form of a pink
monkey.
‘You came.’ Death turned his horse towards Raoul.
“I’m still one of the five horsemen.” There were however only four of them
on horseback. “What happened to your horse?”
“They took him away. They did not understand that I’m famine; people have a
certain expectation of my horse. They however said it was animal cruelty.”

Planet Z

Octopus are intelligent creatures.
They are also quite delicious.
Some people don’t like it when intelligent creatures are used for food, so that’s why I developed “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Octopus.”
It has all the flavor and texture of octopus without the guilt of eating an intelligent creature.
Instead, we use a blend of puppies, kittens, and other natural ingredients to achieve a consistent and realistic octopus experience..
To get the puppies and kittens the right texture, we have to mash them alive with concrete blocks..
They’re cute, sure, but not intelligent. Kinda dumb, really.
And quite delicious.


Boxes

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I wake up, get out of bed, and walk around the house.
I do this every morning.
Six cardboard boxes in a pile by the door.
No labels on them, no markings at all.
I have no idea what’s in them.
Or where they came from.
Some are heavy, some are light.
Do I shake them? Will I break what’s inside them?
I put my ear to each box. No ticking, no breathing.
Maybe I should open them?
Which one to open first, the heaviest? The lightest? The biggest? The smallest?
I go back to sleep.
Maybe they’ll be gone.

The Quiet Ones

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It’s the quiet ones that kill.
Just sitting there, watching you from across the coffee shop.
“What a beautiful cat,” says a customer.
The owner nods, hands over the mug.
Those eyes follow you everywhere: you walk into the shop, over to the counter, back to your favorite table.
What is it about you that’s so interesting?
“Sasha likes you,” says the shop owner, smiling. “Would you like to pet him?”
You think about it, wondering what that deep orange fur will feel like, so soft, so rich.
“I’m allergic,” you say, leave a tip, and walk out the door.