The Happy Ending Machine

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It’s been tough times. Came home from work with a cardboard box.
You know how it is.
I try not to let my daughter hear me worry, but kids are smart. Can’t fool them at all.
So she put the cardboard box on the floor and said it’s my Happy Ending Machine. Says so on the side in Magic Marker.
All spelled right, too.
“Put anything in it, and it will get better,” she said.
Bills? They got paid.
Papercuts? They got healed.
Sick puppies? They got better.
Homework? It got done.
Because that’s what happens in happy endings, right?

Farewell, Marcel

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And now, something from the master storyteller: Elisson

Marcel Marceau, the incomparable French mime, passed away September 22 at the age of
eighty-four.
Marceau (né Mangel), a French Jew who escaped the Nazis and fought with the Free French
during World War II, brought the art of mime to standing-room-only crowds, earning
worldwide acclaim. His waif-like character Bip, in part inspired by Chaplin’s Little
Tramp, was recognizable to millions.
In addition to founding the Colorado School of Mimes, Marceau was the model for Michael
Jackson’s “moonwalk,” based on Marceau’s “Walking in the Wind” sketch.
Today, to honor Marceau’s memory, fans everywhere will observe a moment of extreme noise.

Red

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I was explaining the color red to a blind man when the hot ham sandwiches arrived.
The blind man laughed. “You have no idea what red is,” he said.
“I know what red is,” I said. “You’re the one who has no idea what red is. You’re blind.”
“But I know what red is.”
Then he began an hour-long, amazingly poetic, utterly riveting explanation of what red was.
When he was finished, he took a bite of his sandwich.
“It’s cold! Waitress!”
I may not know what red is, but I know when to eat my hot ham sandwich hot.

Weekly Challenge #75 – Popeye, Movies, Reflection

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Welcome to the seventy-fifth Weekly Challenge, 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 selected by a committee of three: Elisson, Chris, and Caleb.
That’s right: Popeye, Movies, and Reflection.
And people actually wrote stories about all three. Imagine that.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #75?
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
Robin from Hospice
Tom of Footnote
Guy David from Guy David dot com
Elisson of Blog d’Elisson
JD White
Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
The Mad Bard From Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com

WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!

CALEB

Popeye sat alone in the theater after everyone else had left. No matter how many times he watched The Seventh Seal it always left him uncharacteristically contemplative. He thought of death and how it had long been with him. There beside him when he fought the goons on Goon Island or when he accidentally killed Bluto saving Olive Oyl; beside him when he couldn’t stop Sweapee from falling off that girder. He became suddenly aware that death in the flesh was sitting right next to him in the theater and that now he too must go.
“Well Blow Me Down!”

ROBIN

Knowing life’s reflections would be enhanced by spinach, I carried a fresh bag and an some Popeye movies to this hospice admission.
His gray appearance faded fast, mocking me with “Yuk, Yuk”.
“This is it, huh?”
“No, Popeye. The beginning.” I moved his pipe stably into crinkled lips.
After paperwork signing cartoon characters up for hospice, we discussed children who secretly admired him through adulthood. Gently massaging his weakening arms, I whispered “goodbye”.
Suddenly, his demeanor changed. Another patient discharged from hospice due to improvement. Children’s hopes, spinach, and the stabilized pipe ignited him into a superhero.
Hospice is amazing.

TOM

Hi Kids is time for the Movies?
Noooooooooooooooooo
Its Thimble Theatre Time
With all your old friends
Olive Oyl
Harold Ham gravy
Castor Oyl
Popeye
and Bernice the Whiffle Hen
That reminds me kids
want to get your very own
Whiffle Hen good luck charm
just like the one that Popeye
uses in his weekly adventures?
All you got to do is mail in 40 box tops
from that breakfast of Champions Wheaties
in the bright orange box found across
the land in local A & P stores.
Tonight’s exciting adventure is called
The Cure of the Reflection Pool

GUY DAVID

There was a sound like thunder, then a reflection, a bright overseeing light and a strange clicking noise, then a rift was opened in the space-time continuum. Through the rift we could see a broken umbrella that looked like an elephant, an old orlogin clock that always chimes on the 13th hour, an old movie starring Robin Williams as Popeye and an old man with a black robe, wielding an axe that looked like a feather, then, the storm was over, the rift closed, and a new day was born, right between Saturday and Sunday. We called it Warfday.

ELISSON

The sailor walked down Main Street, occasionally catching a glimpse of himself reflected in a store window. He moved with a peculiar gait, swinging his ridiculously muscular forearms, hitching up his pants fore and aft with each step.
Years of salt beef, biscuit, and grog had blocked his bowels such that only an exophthalmos-inducing strain could clear them. For him, Popeye was more than a name; it was a way of life.
But today he was happy, for he was planning to take Miss Oyl to the movies. And, he thought, perhaps one day she’d be his wife, Olive Eye.

JD

I saw a movie at a Drive-in in 1970.
It was called “Reflections in a Golden Eye”.
It stared Taylor and Brando.
It had a lot of yelling, a lot of guzzling of booze and a lot of sex talk.
Even got to see Liz in a white slip.
That was before both she and Brando got fat and old.
I am not sure that I remember much of the movie, except for Liz’s bare back, because they showed a Popeye cartoon before the movie and I keep getting the plots confused.
I seem to remember Brando eating spinach.

LAIEANNA

Alright everyone, let’s settle down. Today we are going to watch a movie.
Hey kids! It’s Popeye! I wansta talk to you about something very
important called self esteem. Self Esteem means having confidence in
who you are. Do yous get picked on in school for the things yous wear
or the way yous talk? (speech impesiment) Does bullies push you
around cause your hair is different or you wears glasses? (oh ah four
eyes) Well, just remember that no one’s the sames. When yous go
home, look at your reflection and says to yourselves… I amz what I
amz.

MAD BARD

Leaning against the mirror, his massive forearms bulging, Popeye stared at his reflection and sighed.
The days of Segar’s cartoons were long gone. His star had faded, trailers and hotel suites on location were now communal bathrooms in the back of the porn studio.
As long as there was a market for nostalgia-minded perverts, the movies would be made.
And they paid.
Popeye washed his face and walked back to the studio.
Sure, Bluto was ramming his co-star from the other end and she looked like she had beachballs strapped to her chest, but it was better than nothing, right?

The Fence

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Everybody decided to divide the planet into two halves.
We’d stay on the north half of the planet while they’d stay on the south half of the planet.
A gigantic fence was to be built around the equator, with the occasional gate here and there to allow folks to walk through and visit now and then.
Lots of people liked the idea, but even more thought it was completely nuts.
“What if people cut through the fence or dig under it?” they said, worried.
So, the plan was changed to a gigantic wall with razor wire.
That satisfied the doubters.

Crazy Plays

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When your team isn’t in the running and they’re up against other teams that won’t make the playoffs, you’re gonna see two things: lots of empty seats and lots of crazy plays.
The kids up from the minors, they’re all nervous about this being their one big shot. They’re trying to show off the fundamentals to the managers… or the scouts from other teams.
But the veterans, they’re tired from the long season. Some are on the bubble for free agency or options, they don’t want to make waves.
That one slugger… the franchise player.
Watch him… here he goes.

Happy Pirate Day

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Jimmy’s turning seven. I asked him what he wanted for his birthday, and he said he wanted a clown at his party.
I couldn’t find a birthday clown, so I settled for a birthday pirate.
Snarling and growling, his peg leg was caught in a gopher hole in the lawn.
Then he ran the piñata through with his cutlass.
Just when you thought it couldn’t be any more of a disaster, the hook on his hand kept popping the balloon animals.
Oh, and he threatened to keel-haul the birthday boy.
The kids loved it. Now they all want birthday pirates.

Falling Balls

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I stood fascinated, watching rows upon rows of Japanese feeding steel balls into pachinko machines, a rattling rain of metal through pegs, flashing lights, spinners… all falling into holes.
“It’s Japanese pinball,” explained my guide, handing me a plastic tub full of the tiny balls.
“Pinball has flippers,” I said. “People have control in pinball, you can bump the table. These are more like slot machines. Just push a button.”
Each ball, a human life. Falling through obstacles until, without fail, reaching oblivion.
I handed the tub back to my guide. “I don’t play the slots. I’m not a machine.”

I Quit

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Yeah, my job sucks. It’s sucked for a very long time.
So, I put my two weeks notice in with the boss.
“You can’t quit,” said God.
“Why not?” I said.
“You’re Satan,” said God. “You’re The Devil.”
“Well, I quit,” I said.
“You can’t quit,” God said again. “You became The Devil when you quit being one of my angels.”
“I don’t want to be one of your angels,” I said. “And I don’t want to be The Devil any more, either.”
God isn’t sure what to do with me now. But I’ve got one Hell of a resume.

Sidney Sunsweet

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Americans are familiar with the story of Johnny Appleseed, who walked the length and breadth of the land while sowing the seeds of the great MacIntosh, Winesap, and Cortland, laying the foundations for today’s mighty orchards.
Alas, the story of Sidney Sunsweet is not nearly as well known. But Sidney walked the length and breadth of America ten years before Johnny was out of knee-pants, scattering seeds wherever he went. Prune seeds.
For Sidney was an aficionado of the Noble Prune, the “fruit that eats like a meal.” His motto?
“Eat Fruit with the Wrinkling: You’ll crap in a twinkling.”