The Wacky Adventures of Abraham Lincoln 74

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It was Bath Day, and the White House tub was full of warm sudsy water.
The problem was that Abraham Lincoln would be so busy doing his Presidential duties that he’d end up being the last to the tub.
The water was often quite foul by then, and sometimes a family member would accidentally break the tub.
So Abe finished his work, closed up his desk, and came upon a frightful scene.
“The bottom is out of the tub!” shouted Abe. “What shall I do?”
There was no answer.
So he stripped naked, went outside, and took a dust bath.

Weekly Challenge #43 – Staff Of Life

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Welcome to the forty-third 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 Elisson from blog d’Elisson, and it’s Staff Of Life.
Eight stories were submitted this week. We’re melting! Melting!
No rookies joined in, but a few recent rookies have been making up for absent veterans… yay!
And, once again, some disturbing madness from Planet Z.
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):

Who had the best story in Weekly Challenge #43?
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
Elisson of blog d’Elisson
Tom from Footnote
Terrence from Never Was
Laieanna from HodgePodge Point
Caroline from Quadra
Kelly Burt from Come Let Me Whisper
K Nine from Dead Dog Walkin
The Twisted Bard of Planet Z
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s a packet containing at least 1 refrigerator magnet and a CD with the archive of the entire 100 word stories podcast. (Well, minus promos and junk)
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!


The full text of each story:
ELISSON

For years, the magazine was Required Reading in almost every American home.
It became a national icon after adopting its new photojournalism format in 1936. Covering everything from the momentous to the mundane, its renowned photographers – Edward Steichen and Alfred Eisenstaedt among them – filled its pages with Pulitzer prize-winning pictures.
But now it was 1972, and the tastes of America had changed. Sales plummeted.
Henry Luce called his employees in to give them the bad news. He couldn’t afford to pay them.
How ironic, he thought. It simply took too much bread to maintain the staff of /Life/.

TOM

I pretty much lived at the Staff of Life for three years. The bakery was owned and run by surfers, thus an extremely loose work ethic. When Wayne and I took over the shipping operation our Chicago ways rattled the Santa Cruz sensibilities. We worked 14 hours shifts and once we craved out a work space we guarded it violently. It wasn’t uncommon to see signage saying “Touch this and die.” And “Put anything on this shelf we’ll break your fucking fingers.” We were bad asses in the land of pauchlee. Where we walked whispers, “There goes Mr. Bad Vibes.”

TERRENCE

I bet you don’t know this but I have been written out of the book.
That’s right me, Raoul have been written out. I bet you’re wondering
why?
Well, back in the day, I was the only one that had one and I knew how
to use it. I had that little lady hanging off my finger. One day,
after our encounter, I gave her a snack. Well that little tramp took
one bite and ran off to share it with him. This upset the guy
upstairs and after throwing them out, he gave every man the staff of
life.

LAIEANNA

“Here’s the primary part of our facility.”
“Quite an establishment you guys developed.”
“We had to change with the times. There are a lot more people in this
world than when we first started and we’re not getting any younger.
It just became to much for the three of us to handle. Our staff is
fully trained in each of the duties, and we offer a great benefit for
our employees.”
“You mean benefits.”
“No, benefit…immortality. What more do you need?”
“Oh! Do I qualify to work at Fates Incorporated? I always wanted to
put people’s lives into my hands.”

CARRIE

My name it aint nothing, said Moses when God asked him to lead the children of Israel out. Zipporah quickly zipped off Gershom’s foreskin to appease Him, and saved the day. Moses threw his staff onto the floor, it turned into a snake. Pharaoh’s magicians did the same- He took the staff of life and hit the Nile. Blood everywhere. The magician’s copied. Moses stretched out his staff over the waters, frogs covered the land. The magician’s copied. Then flies, boils, hail, dead sheep. “Why can’t we do that,” cried the magicians.
“See what you can do when God’s on your side.” Replied Moses.

K NINE

“Guardian Angel Number Three reporting… That was a
close one”
K-nine had almost stepped out in front of a speeding
cab, but then had to stop to scratch his ankle at the
curb. As he blissfully wandered down Austin’s 6th
Street, Angel Five made him crave a hamburger just
before he bought a ptomaine tainted hotdog from a
street vendor. Angel Two arranged for a huge biker to
walk back into a bar before K-nine winked at said
biker’s girlfriend. Angels One and Four rested before
their shift. It was a tough job being on this
particular Staff of Life.

CALEB

Once a year they square off in secret, The Staff of Life Magazine and the Staff of Life Cereal. The game they play is ancient and deadly, similar to soccer or rugby but played with a human head.
The prize? The winners win the Staff Of Life Staff Of life trophy. They also get to sacrifice and eat the flesh of the losers.
They used to just play for beers after the game but ever since Mikey grew up and became team captain it’s gotten increasingly gruesome. You know Mikey, he’ll eat anything. He likes it. He really likes it!

KELLY BURT

It’s never good when a child realizes that they are cooler than an older sibling, but for Katie, it was mortifying.
She never knew of this less-than-attractive life her older brother lived. She didn’t know that there were secrets that should have been kept.
She won’t ever forget the scene set before her. The dice, books, and was that a G.M.? Alas, what will be etched in her memory forever is her brother pretending to resurrect a dead elvish maiden, “Live damn you. I call upon the Staff of Life.”
“What a geek,” said Katie, shaking her head.

Z

“Give us now our daily bread,” chanted the room full of monks, heads bowed over the tables in the dining hall.
One stood up. “Johnson got a high score in DDR last night!” he shouted.
All the other monks stood up and cheered, and Johnson was raised to their shoulders in a victory lap around the dining hall.
The abbot thumped his cane on the floor and scowled at the raucous mealtime disruption.
The cheering stopped.
“Return to your seats!” growled the venerable leader.
He’d have to bust some seriously wicked moves to get the honor of high score back.


Thanks to everyone for sending in their stories, and I look forward to what you’ve got to write (and say) next week.
The theme for next week’s Weekly Challenge will be posted shortly.
(In case you’re interested, I’ve settled on “Clair de Lune” as the opening music and “Moonshine” by Michael Oldfield from the Tubular Bells II album.)

Phantom Pain

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As a kid, I compulsively bit my fingernails.
I chewed them ragged and bloody.
Nothing could get me to stop.
After years of suffering, I finally went to a hypnotist.
He convinced me that they weren’t there to bite.
It worked.
On the way home, I was walking through Sears when I noticed the Craftsman display.
I mounted a blade into a circular saw and plugged it in.
The first finger was the hardest to cut off.
The rest were much, much easier.
They call it phantom pain. I still feel them there.
But I don’t want to bite them.

The King

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He had brought King Kong back alive from Skull Island at the cost of fifteen men and untold thousands of dollars. His attempt to exhibit the beast on Broadway was a complete flop, thanks to the kind ministrations of the SPCA, PETA, and the unions. And Ann Darrow was in therapy.
But big as he was, Kong was still a monkey.
Denham dodged as Kong lobbed a Volkswagen-sized turd. Moments later, ten gallons of hot Ape-Spooge spattered the bars of the gargantuan enclosure.
Eighth Wonder of the World, my ass, thought Denham. Still a fucking monkey.

The Big Hand Is On The Ten, The Little Hand Is On The Twelve, And The Slowhand Is On The Slab

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I clawed my way out of the yellow time-bubble and ran for the backstage.
“Stevie!” I yelled. “Don’t get on that goddamned chopper!”
His bodyguards put up a fight, but Stevie got curious and wanted to take a took at me.
Then he punched my lights out, because Clapton had gotten his seat.
I had meant to save them both, but I guess I blew it.
When the “local” Time Society bailed me out, I was given a warning.
And a commendation.
“At least there’s no more ‘No More Tears In Heaven,'” it said. “That song was damned annoying.”

Times

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Andrew says a little something about the times…

Times a’ changin’, don’t be pinin’
Times a flowin’, don’t be moppin’
Times move on, doncha mourn
Time flows on, don’t be forlorn
Yeah, time moves along apace
Yeah, time moves like a race
Yeah you leave not a trace
Cause time goes, doncha know
Cause time flows, doncha know
Cause time moves, doncha know
Cause time flows, doncha know
Don’t worry it happens to all
Things move all along
No matter what we want
Times moves full trot
Look to the future
With an eye to the past
Hold onto those treasure
And do have yourself a bloody blast

Yankee Blonde

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Sally wasn’t just stupid, but dead-dumb solid-rock stupid.
She was also a blonde, so her smart friends tried an experiment.
You know the old joke where artificial intelligence is where you dye a blonde’s hair black?
Well, they tried it with Sally.
They made her take off her favorite ballcap, then she washed her hair and dyed it dark.
Sure enough, she wasn’t dumb anymore.
Not quite a genius, but certainly smarter than before.
When her hair was dry enough, she put her trusty New York Yankees cap back on.
And, sure enough, she was the same old moron again.

Nessie

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A mysterious creature glided in the depths.
Legends had circulated for years, but never any hard evidence. The creature belonged to the shadowy realm of the Possibly Real occupied by Sasquatch, the Ten Lost Tribes, and the /menehune/ of Hawai’i.
But when bowling ball-sized chunks of meat began boiling to the surface of the lake, each enveloped in a mysterious doughy casing, the locals called me in. Abe Schwartz, Dybbuk Hunter. Ghosts and Legendary Creatures a specialty.
After searching all my life, I had finally found her. The miraculous evidence left no doubt that it was the Kreploch-Ness Monster.

Assembled Ache

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Laieanna missed the deadline for the Weekly Challenge on toothache, but being the good sport (and writer) she is, she’s sent it in as a midweek story…

Dr Tyler adjusted his mask before facing the two men. “So what made you bring your…son? Son in today?
“Oh, some toothaches.”
“Toothaches?” The dentist exclaimed. “Just how many?”
Both men leaned forward to take a closer look. “Well, I’m not sure how many, but he’s groaning all the time, sometimes even yelling. Just can’t have a peaceful night reading before the fireplace.”
Dr. Tyler took a mirror off the tray, “Well, open wide, sonny.” The dentist stepped back quickly. “What’s going on here?” Tyler turned an astonished face to the other man, “Dr. Frankenstein, ALL his teeth are decaying.”

Remember To Forget

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“You have one wish left,” said the genie.
“Huh?” I said.
Where am I? What’s going on?
I was standing in an alleyway, dirty lamp in my hand with a genie sticking out of it.
“What do you mean ‘one wish left?'” I asked. “Did I have others?”
“Yes,” said the genie. “You had three.”
“Did I?” I said, scratching my head. “I don’t remember that at all. Jesus, I wish I could remember what I wished for.”
The genie vanished, and I remembered that my second wish was to forget my first.
I wish I could forget it again.