Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number Two Hundred and Eleven, 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 Bill!
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):
Jeffrey
When the bill came it was astounding. To be sure I expected it to be high, after all we had a full seven course meal, that included lobster in three of the courses. The problem was how high.
“Sir, is there a problem with your bill?”
the waiter had formed the words as a question but you could tell what he was thinking. He had a right, I had been staring at it for almost an hour now, but it was the gun he was holding that caught my attention.
“Now will you be paying with cash or with blood?”
Steven
The aliens look like cartoon ducks, but I think they’re kind of sexy.
Besides, they like poetry. Which is how I, a grad student, ended up
interviewing one of them.
I called him by hyperwave. His name was a musical throat-swallowing
gargle of a sound. He said “Call me Bill.” We talked until the late
hours of the morning. And every day for a month.
I owe the hyperwave company more than my student loans. I got a huge
bill for talking to an alien named Bill, who has a bill.
He thought it was poetic.
I changed majors.
Guy
I sit in darkness. I keep the refrigerator door open, try to cool up the room, but to no avail. The ice melted long ago and no cool air is sipping out. There’s no food at the refrigerator. Haven’t been there in a long time. They’ve cut down the gas, then they switched off the electricity. Couldn’t afford the food anyway, pay for electricity, gas, or water. I hear them coming up the stairs, the guys from the execution office. They are here for the furniture. I light up a match, watch the fire dance, then let it consume me.
Zakmann
I found out I can pay many of my bills with a credit card and earn points. Too bad I can’t pay the mortgage with credit card, I could earn at least one book every month. Now all I have to figure out is how to pay the credit cards. I am glad my kids understand that I have to have money to pay everything we buy even if I use credit. Of course they still ask questions like “If prince William has a gaming system, is that a royal Wii?” and of course they ask “May I have Money?”
Justin
Heather scrolled through the list. They all matched the parameters she selected in the search options, but there were many other factors to be examined before choosing one.
Some were too tall or too wide. One had the right size, but obviously slow in processing speed. Another looked beautiful, just geared for work only. Eventually she found one just a bit taller than herself and he wanted kids. His name was William. She filled out the forms and sent the money to the mail order husbands site. She needed time to prepare, so she checked the ‘Bill me later’ option.
Norval Joe
“Bill?” He heard a womans voice. “Bill, is that you?”
Winston Carlson looked up from the cafe’s small round table.
He recognized the attractive woman who stood nearby. She rested one hand on her hip, with the other waved an accusatory finger.
“You’re not going to the reunion. Instead, your’re going to hide and watch everyone who goes into the restaurant,” she said and limped to his table.
“Look, Aileen, I don’t have freinds in there. And my names not Bill. The kids liked to make fun of my big upper lip.”
“I know,” she said, “my name is Marie.”
Stewart
Dear Bill, here is the bill for the bill replacement on your favorite
baseball cap. Next time please do not bill the other players before
playing as I’ve severed many bills from players’ caps just today. It
has become quite an issue. Also of note, my name, as you surely know,
is not Bill or Billy or Mac or Buddy, it is William. I would
appreciate it if you could call me by my given name. My parents spent
a long time deciding on it and it is very important to me. Sincerely,
William Williamson The Duckbill Platypus Sports Club
TJ
His new No.2 pencils rattled in their new red plastic box, complete with
sharpener and a compartment to catch the shavings. His new red jacket
kept out the September chill. A pair of sophomores walked past him,
laughing, and he quickly unbuttoned the top button on his shirt to match
theirs. A bell rang, and a pretty blonde girl smiled at him. “Hi!
I’m Christine,” she said. “You look lost. What’s your name?”
“Bill.” he said, smiling back. Bill sounded more grown up than
Billy. New year, new grown-up name. “I am kinda lost,” he said.
“Walk me to class?”
Forsooth, I’ve read your Dane’s yarn through and you’ve cobbled up
a pageantry of folly. This whole scene is witticisms and folderol. Why
not simply call the thing “Polonius”? And this bit, where he’s
contemplating suicide, shouldn’t that be tucked in with Claudius, or
Ophelia? Odds bodkins, she actually commits suicide. Or Polonius could
manage it with scarce another breath. It makes no sense! Here Hamlet’s
breathing fiery vengeance against his uncle and stepfather, but next
appears contemplating death by his own hand? If we’re looking for
madness mayhaps we ought first inquire with the playwright. What sayest
thou, Bill?
The avalanche moved three tons of ice and snow, and left Washington skier
Janet Winsome pinned beneath a fallen tree, stranding her helpless for
fully two days. She was unconscious when the rescue helicopters finally
spotted her, and it was another five hours to work out the logistics to
get at her and then to move her safely. Her face was pale and
frostbitten, and there was no saving her leg. But her sense of humor was
fine. On seeing the bill, she said, “Well … you’d best knock me
out again if you’re gonna get my arm as well.”
Planet Z
“Put it on my bill!” cackles Grampa.
Every time I saw him, he told the same old corny joke.
I’m supposed to laugh. So, I try.
Grampa punches me in the shoulder. “Good one, huh?”
“Yeah, Grampa,” I say. “Good one.”
Now, I’ve got grandkids, and I tried to tell them the same joke.
“Why doesn’t the duck tell them to put it on his credit card?” says Janey.
“Or use his Paypal?” says Bobby.
Kids these days don’t understand a good joke.
I tried to get them to pull my finger.
And I shit my pants.
Damn you, Grampa.