The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Twenty-Two, 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 Lunette, and we went with Green.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #122?
	Brad from http://mutecow.net
	Fricker from http://www.frickerfraker.blogspot.com/
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com
	Steven points to War In South Ossetia
	Tom
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Anima from http://.zabbadabba.com
	Almo
	Eva from http://evamoon.net
	Sougent
	Mike
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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BRAD Z

Ooooo let me in, let me in. It smells so good in here…where is it, over here, over here, it’s around here somewhere and I’ll find it. Hmm can you smell that, smells like….hamburger…I like hamburger… it’s coming from over here, behind this door….yep there’s hamburger behind this door, all I have to do is a little breaking and entering into hamburgerville….I bet I can get it open if I do this….then put a paw here…..ooo it’s open. They should just give this to me instead of throwing it away, nom nom nom

FRICKER

The other day I broke into my boss’ computer only to find classified files regarding my work ethics and possible release.
Right at that moment I came to one conclusion; murder.
I devised a plan with every detail covered. The next day, meeting scheduled, plan intact… all was in place.
He stepped casually through the door; with a solemn voice he said we need to talk.
This is going to be hard for me to say.
I thought to myself, you have no idea.
We had a security breach recently, and I need to promote you to Senior Security Advisor.
Yes! I love it when a plan comes together.

GUY DAVID

The Chirapa where entering a new stage in their stay on the planet of The Humans. The crowdedness and the lack of room underground, combined with the lack of sunlight and the fact that they couldn’t bring new Chirapa children into the world for lack of room was beginning to break them down. Chaketo Chirapa did his best to raise the spirit of his people as their leader. He knew this couldn’t last forever, and he was getting desperate. He decided the only answer was to actually meet The Humans somehow, but how could he do that without being discovered?

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

The ground vibrates from the bombs. We huddle in the corner, my
children crying beneath me. Mother’s picture shakes from the wall and
shatters.
The blue of sky, the clean rocky mountains – all is obscured by the
dust and fire of the bombs. The chalk of collapsed buildings is on
our tongues. My children do not know why the men run with rifles, do
not understand the destruction.
Vehicles rumble down the street. I pray silently to the Virgin to
protect us. I pray harder than even when Josef died.
A hard boot strikes the door.
I close my eyes.

TOM

Max was a second story man. Windows and roofs were his modus operandus.
His working hour was 6:30 to 7:30. Max hated the street level trade, but
his wife’s sister’s son had to start on the ground floor. Arthur a bit
less that dim, but ever eager to please crept in the midnight shadows to
the front door. Max held the Phillsbee compression jack against the
doorknob. He motioned to young Arthur to take the hammer and strike the
end of the jack. Arthur looked back confused. Max whispered, “When I nod
my head you hit it with the hammer.”

JUSTIN

The green bean reaver ship passed us, not hunting. Soon we were at the station and I ordered the supplies needed to fix the turtle’s shell. When it was ready, I went to pick it up. There was a huge pile of orange vegetables in the hanger. I shouted at the supplier over my radio.
“Keratin, not carrot tons!!”
Life will be much easier when it is back to normal. It’s been weird ever since the Short Order Terrorists broke into Reality Headquarters then installed a virus into the reality generators that merged the Food Network into the entire universe.

ANIMA

I am a compulsive B and E artist… It usually leads to murder.
I learned from the hand of my mother. She taught me at the tender age of seven,
and by eleven, I was doing the job alone. Occasionally, I’d bring her my results.
At times I managed to quell my urges. When I was 15, I quit cold turkey;
I didn’t hardly miss the lifestyle. But by college, I had returned to my old ways.
Now, I limit myself to once a week. Old age slows a body down.
Today is going to be one of them days.

ALMO

So close, I could smell it.
It was stronger than the scent of the freshly mowed grass, more potent than the honeysuckle that climbed the fence.
I had no choice. I followed the trail.
Maybe the Parkers were home. I hoped they weren’t. I hoped the cat wasn’t sleeping where I was going. Their porch window is always cracked open. You can get in if you wriggle enough, and I did.
Technically, I guess, it’s breaking and entering. But I couldn’t stop.
I scratched at a flea with my hind leg, woofed, and saw the Grail, the bowl of Whiskas!

EVA

“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.” — Leonard Cohen
I’ve spent nearly my whole life keeping up the façade: Perfect woman, perfect family, perfect life. Terrified to reveal the truth. I’d be shunned, despised, ridiculed.
Of course you can’t keep it up forever. The first cracks are tiny, almost invisible. But they spread and before you know it, your life is a network of shards held together by fear.
Now that it’s all broken in pieces at my feet, I don’t know why I resisted so long. The darkness has gone, replaced by brilliant light.

SOUGENT

“Are you ready?”, asks a voice from behind him. “You need to get in
there, there’s not much time”.
“And don’t screw up”, came a rough voice from the corner.
He mutters in agreement, picks up the saw and begins cutting.
After this job was finished, he’d have enough money to occupy his time
with a few well oiled super models on the beaches of Cancun.
Suddenly blood spurts out, splattering his green surgical scrubs.
He looks down at the open chest of the injured mob boss as the man in
the corner points a revolver at his head.

MIKE

Evening has come; she begins her search for food. She needs blood for her developing eggs. Chemical sensors alert her to nearby prey and she veers toward the source. Motion and heat sensors confirm the target. She selects a suitable spot and lands almost unnoticed.
Her proboscis is sharper than a needle, capable of breaking through the toughest skin. Upon entering the wound, proteins in her saliva will inhibit clotting, allowing her to feed. It will also transmit a deadly microorganism. This human has killed hundreds of her kin; now, it will pay. She bends down and –
SMACK!
“Darn mosquitoes!”

PLANET Z

“Did you bring it?” he asks. What little I can see under his hood convinces me to look away.
I nod. “Fifteen million dollars,” I say.
I slide the briefcase across the table.
He reaches for it, the hand is scarred and blackened, missing two fingers.
The other hand reaches into a sack at his side.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say.
The Devil’s Pitchfork falls to the table with a clatter.
I can’t help but stare.
“How did you get it?” I ask, but the man is gone.
A whiff of brimstone and laughter.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Twenty-One, 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 Lunette, and we went with Green.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which stories were the best from Weekly Challenge #121?
	Guy David of Guy David
	Tom from Footnote
	Thomas Merkel
	Steven the Nuclear Man
	Michelle from Different World
	Anima Zabaleta from zabbadabba.com
	Jeffrey Hite of The Great Hites
	Brad Z from Twitter
	Justin the Space Turtle
	Mike
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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GUY

It was green, wet and wrinkled. Quansity stared at it with disgust. “What is it?” he asked. “It’s Human food” answered Ginswey knowingly, “it’s called a pickle.” Quansity continued staring at the dripping green thing on the green dining table. “You mean, they eat that staff?” he asked, horrified. “Yes, and quiet eagerly too” answered Ginswey, “but that’s not the worst thing those barbarians eat.” Quansity held his breath and started looking a little green himself. “You mean… there’s worst?” he asked, astonished. “Yes,” said Ginsway, “there is this thing called olive loaf. It’s very popular, or so I’m told.”

TOM

Arthur Andersen is surely about the green but it’s not about it we speak. Our Arthur Andersen was the voice of Lucky the Leprechaun of that other corporate giant General Mills, a role he played from 1963 to 1992. When asked of the benefits of being a shill for a sugar coated breakfast ravedust Mr. Anderson said “I never got free cereal, but they gave me lots of green money.” The other long running role Mr. Anderson played was the 1937 Broadway production of Julius Caesar. He was one of the original Mercury Theatre Players and its last surviving member.

THOMAS

Damn green, tree-hugging, sandal-wearing hippies… trying to force their communistic environmental agenda upon society. Green food, green cars, green soap, green clothes, green mercury filled light bulbs. Heck, we can’t even use lead sinkers to go fishing!
The only thing remotely green I want to be associated with is Saint Patrick’s Day beer, lime Jello shots, good Hawaiian weed, and two week old olive loaf aging in the fridge.
Someday, in an ideal world, I’d be able to pick up my number twelve size shoe, out of my number twelve size carbon footprint, and shove it up their green asses.

STEVEN

I miss her emerald eyes.
The upload process transferred personalities perfectly. Old
recordings of her voice informed the synthesizer; her new body was
sculpted after scans of twenty year old photos.
The eyes were never quite the same, always left somewhere in the uncanny valley.
“It will be me, Howard.” She had known my feelings, but her fatal
virus had left us no choice.
She walks through the door in her new, engineered body. She moves
like my wife, says my name like my wife.
Her flat matte green eyes gaze at me.
I shudder, and leave it there, alone.

MICHELLE

Volvo, S40 T-5.
Five speed manual transmission.
This is where I sit, every day. Looking, wondering, waiting and wanting. An open road with no speed limits, heaven. He looks at me with brown eyes sparkling to a fine gloss. I know what he wants. He has the need, the need for speed. I want to give this luscious creature all he desires and more. We sit, wait, open the doors, and exit the vehicle.
I give him a mournful pet behind the ears. “Don’t worry Fido, one day mother will give us the green light to drive it, one day.”

JEFFREY

This is about having your destiny cut short. I was all ready to take command. The CEO was obsessed with the GT-LATS take over, and his new Bride. I was about to show that he was unfit to run the company, when he showed up.
“Mister. Rugan. You’ve a guest out here.” Miss Green said over the intercom. Did I mention that this is all her fault?
“I”m busy.”
“He says he is here on a family matter. He’s very insistent.”
“Send him in.” In walked the man that took it away from me.
“Hello, my name is Montoya,”

BRAD

Fred
It had been a long harsh winter but Fred had managed to survive it. However, he had noticed, that quite a few of his siblings had not survived the winter. But that’s why mom had so many kids. Just the way things go, she had said when he was very young.
Fred’s body illuminated as he took to the sky in search of at mate who’s glow would match his.
Someone special, those two over there, they sure are bright, yes, they would do…Fred made his move towards them.
Ewwww, there’s glowing green bug slime all over the windshield!

JUSTIN

We made our way through the asteroid field. Using a modified food disposal unit, we made it through. On the other side, a ship came close. Scanning the ship made stark terror strike me. It was a Green Bean Reaver ship. These reavers are horrible creatures, no longer human, or vegetable. If they were hunting, they would attack. If not, they would pass by. The only course was straight on. If I ran, they would follow. When these reavers attack, they do horrible things, like make you eat rotten brussel sprouts, or spoiled canned peas. Let’s hope they aren’t hunting.

ANIMA

Daddy?
Umm, Sugar?
Can I steer for a bit?
No, baby, not until you’re 8, when you’re a mite bigger.
Oh-kay…
What can I do Daddy? I’m bored. We’ve been flying around for ages….
Why don’t you go play with Jeff in the hold?
Jeffy’s doing school work, he don’t want to play
Doesn’t, sugar…
Well, since we’re out here in the toulies… Would you like to blast something? Come over here, then…aim the laser cannon… like so… see if you can hit that blue and green planet…
That one?
Yep, keep it in the cross hairs, then push the button…

MIKE

“You are certain this will work?” the ship’s captain demanded to know.
“Of a surety, my lord. Observe,” said the chief medic, pointing. “The monitor’s display is coded by pigmentation – Ankarite on the left, Gatarrh on the right; the central image illustrates the merger.”
“Proceed!”
Sequencers came online. Both subjects became translucent, then faded completely.
As the melded being began to form, dreams of engineered Orion slavegirls and huge profits danced in the captain’s head.
They died almost as quickly as the medic and his pinkish, hairless and completely useless creation.
“‘Yellow and blue make green'” – pah!” he spat, disgusted.

PLANET Z

Hi ho, Kermit the Frog here with an important message.
Sure, it’s not easy being green, but it’s also not easy having your legs cut off, battered, and deep fried by some fucking Cajun.
This is why I am a proud member of the Animals For The Unethical Treatment Of Humans.
Every time I hear a new story about a Pit Bull mauling its owner or some jackoff Australian getting killed by a string ray, I think “Way to go, animals!”
Mmmmm… it’s time for dinner. BLT.
Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. but she was such a stage hog.