The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Welcome to the twenty-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 last week’s winner Caleb Bullen: Lounge.
Seven stories were submitted this week.
No rookies this wee. Boo!
And, as always, the usual madness by 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 for the 25th Weekly Challenge?
	Laieanna from Hodgepodge Point
	Caroline from Quadra Island
	T.A. Marquette from Footnote Podcast
	Caleb from the Black Tie Martini Club
	Rahel from Elms in the Yard
	Andrew from Dodgeblogium
	PJ from No Deep Thoughts
	The Mad Bard From Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

The full text to each story…
CAROLINE

“Get into town and get some résumé’s in. It doesn’t matter where just go. If you lounge around in that bed any longer I’ll pour cold water on you head.” Yelled Nathan’s frustrated mother.
“I don’t have the money for the bus.”
“No excuses you’ve got a pair of legs. Look here’s $2 you’ll get the bus if you go now.”
Nathan arrived home in a taxi carrying an expensive looking guitar. Mum told him to leave right now. He did. He happily forgot to mention that he’d spent the $2 on lottery tickets and won the jackpot.

T.A. MARQUETTE

Morty and Ben run a small club outside of D. C.
One afternoon in walks Justice Sandra Day O’Connor carrying a guitar case.
Mort looks at Ben.
Ben looks at Mort.
They both look at Sandra.
“I’m looking for a new job as a lounge singer,” She says.
Mz O’Connor proceeds to deliver a gut wrenching rendition of the Beatles’ Yesterday.
She finishes Mort thanks her and tells her they will get in touch will her.
“Are you nuts that’s frign Sandra Day O’Connor” screams Ben.
Calmly Morty replies “Never book a judge by it cover.”

CALEB

A I like to lounge C#
D Lounge in a lounge A
A The price of drinks C#
B I usually can scrounge E
D Or maybe cash in E
A A favor or two D
A Lounge in a lounge E
E Just me and you A
A I like to play pool C#
D Or if there’s a band A
A I usually dance C#
B Given half a a chance E
D I look like a fool E
A But hey man that’s cool E
E I like to lounge in a lounge A
A A tavern’s okay C#
D So is a pub A
A Most bars are too loud C#
B Same thing with the clubs E
D A cabaret’s fine E
A If you’ve got the time E
E But I like to lounge
A In a lounge

LAIEANNA

For a lazy bastard, he was up early, lounging on the couch watching ESPN. God, another day of sports.
She grabbed the cleaning supplies, and sighed loudly for attention. Of course, there was no response. Another one woman day of chores.
Deliberately, she started with his surroundings…sweeping the rug, wiping equipment, and even sprinkling down dust from the fan.
He didn’t move. Fed up with his persistence to not help, she blocked his view. Still his eyes remained oddly fixed ahead, not blinking. Her hand came down hard on his cheek. Then she ran away hysterical. He was cold…and stiff.

RAHEL

When I found it lounging in the bathtub I held back a scream. (Do lizards hear?)
I thought of paging my friend’s furry lizard hunter, but he’s on another continent. No luck there.
Then I watched it lounge some more and wondered how on earth I was going to shower that night.
Later, I got my courage up and took some pictures of it.
Finally I caught it and released it outside.
I found another lounging in the kitchen sink the next week. They never stop.
They’re called “house geckos.” Sorry, fellas–no lounging around here. Out you go! Out!

ANDREW

It was called “the sea lounge” because it looked over the water near Bournemouth. It jutted quite a few feet over the sea on high cliff. It was this protrusion into the “sea realm” that so enraged the Deep Ones Front for the Protection of the Sea. The direct action group shunned the more secretive nature of their ancestors believing in taking “the war” to unbelieving land-people. The spectacular destruction of the Sea Lounge was their first act of aggression. They claimed responsibility in a rant to local radio that began with the words ‘Ia Ia Ftaggn Cthulhu! Heed!”

PJ

There was no expression on Paula’s face as she watched the flames engulf the Bayside Lounge.
As if in a trance, she stood quietly, oblivious to the activities around her.
The wind blew hot air into her face and smoke into her eyes, but still she stood.
Only moments before she was laughing and enjoying Friday Happy Hour with her friends.
Everyone had gotten out safely but were now pointing and whispering as if she had done something wrong.
This wasn’t her fault.
How could she have known daring a co-worker to light a fart could cause this much trouble?

PLANET Z

I stop by Casper’s Lounge for a drink.
There’s a woman at the bar, sipping bottled water.
She tells her story. I tell mine.
It turns out that her father ran over my father when we were both eight.
My dad was crossing the street when her dad was racing home to bring a
cake to her birthday party.
I remember spending my birthday in the hospital. The police said it was
a hit and run.
“Funny,” she says. “All these years, we never met up before.”
I pick up a bar stool and beat her to death with it.

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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.)

Welcome to the twenty-fourth 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 last week’s winner T.A. Marquette: Stone.
Fifteen stories were submitted this week.
One rookie this week. Yay!
Plus there’s an extra-special dedication to former competitor Marcus Tee
And, as always, the usual madness by 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 for the 24th Weekly Challenge?
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Ted’s Podcast (no URL yet)
	Caroline from Quadra
	Lisa from Lemons and Lollipiops
	Laieanna
	Tomer Israeli the Ethnocentrist
	T.A. Marquette of Footnote
	Andrew from Dodgeblogium
	Elisson from blog d’Elisson
	Rahel of Elms In The Yard
	P.J. from No Deep Thoughts
	Kolek from The Kolektive
	Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
	B
	William
	Laurence Simon
	The Brain-Damaged Bard From Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

The full text to each story…
CALEB

Ironically the people of PETS or People for the ethical treatment of stones, can’t abide by keeping stones as pets. They think they should all run free unfettered by man.
But I have a pet rock, and I’m not ashamed.
They’re a little hard to train at first. Why when I first got him, he would strain at the leash any time I tried taking him for a walk.
But then I took him to obedience school and now look at him.
Stony! Sit! Stay! Play dead! Roll over! Good Boy!
And you should see him fetch the morning paper.

TED’S PODCAST

Steve was born into proud family. Although his family didn’t have much, they knew where they came from. They were in fact, a cornerstone in their community. Steve’s brother Bob was quite successful in the catapult industry, so there was always pressure to do well, to make something of himself. To really be somebody.
It’s hard to become something you’re not, but Steve was determined. He had the genes. He was igneous. Although he lacked in viscosity, he was still born of magma. Steve was determined. Yes, one day, whatever it took, he would be taken for granite.

CAROLINE

Her marriage was great. Terry was loving, considerate and kind to the kids. From her friends perspective, she knew that much. What more could she want. Julie decided to take computer classes, showing Terry she could be more than just the nice little housewife and mother. She wanted him to be proud of her. It was their day out by themselves they walked around the old castle. She went alone to the top. She looked down. He was at his laptop. She knew what he was doing. The large stone in her hand would be enough. She let it fall.

LISA

Nathan had a gambling problem. This was why his girlfriend refused to marry him.
After a long period of reform, he presented Sylvie with a gorgeous ring. Feeling he’d redeemed himself, she accepted. Surely he couldn’t have afforded a stone this size if he’d still been gambling.
Sylvie took it to be cleaned. The presumptuous jeweller winked at her, “This is one of the finest Cubic Zirconia stones I’ve ever sold, you’d never know, would you?”
Later, sneaking home after a night of poker, Nathan found his mutilated belongings on the street, the ring on top. No explanations were necessary.

TOMER ISRAELI

NO TEXT SENT… kinda hard to hear… oh well.

STONE SOUP

There once was a famine.
People hoarded their food.
A soldier walked into their village
“No food here,” he was told. “Move along.”
“Can I make you some soup?”
Out came a cauldron, in went water.
With great ceremony he drew an ordinary stone
from a velvet bag and dropped it into the water.
“Mmmm,” said the soldier to himself quite loudly,
“I do like a tasty stone soup. BUT
stone soup with cabbage — better.”
A villager added a cabbage to the pot
Suddenly salt beef, potatoes,
onions, carrots, mushrooms appeared.
In the end there was food for all.

ANDREW IAN DODGE

The stone altar held the victim who had long since stopped resisting his bonds. He could see around but it was a blurry dream like vision. The man before him held a large ceremonial dagger the victim knew to be covered with ancient pre-deluvian symbols. He knew the chants that were wafting into his ears; knew them only too well as he’d sung them before the sacrifice of some unfortunate fellow. The chanting around him began to rise in volume, the guttural sounds becoming cacophonous with every word. Aziz would have sworn he heard it as it plunged towards his chest…

ELISSON

The summit was only fifty yards away. Sisyphus could practically taste it.
Heaving with all his strength, he struggled to keep pouring forward momentum into the massive round boulder. Droplets of sweat pattered in the dust around his feet.
Zeus, he could use a drink. But there would be no drink, no rest for him until he got that fucking boulder all the way to the top.
Ten more yards.
Suddenly, stabbing pain lanced through his left kidney. Gasping, he clutched his side and watched horrorstricken as the boulder rolled to the bottom.
Damn that stone. And damn that stone!

RAHEL

He awoke suddenly, his mind still hazy from the drug in his drink.
For one disoriented moment, he had no idea where he was. Then he saw the stone wall in front of him and stone walls on either side. When he tipped his head slightly backward, he saw the stone wall behind him.
He was lying on stone, too, his wrists and ankles held by four burly men. Even as he took this in, he saw the obsidian knife descending toward his chest.
He stayed calm, remembering that at times like these one always has a choice of attitude.

PJ

Looking around at her neighbor’s well manicured lawns, Paula decided she wanted to spruce things up a little bit.
She bought some plants at the local hardware store and spent the entire afternoon digging holes and planting an attractive assortment of greenery.
Then, she carefully chose just the right stepping stones and placed them in the dirt forming a lively little garden path.
Beautiful! Just like in a magazine” she smiled proudly.
The next morning (running late as usual) Paula caught her heel, then hit her head on those very stumbling blocks that she had so carefully created for herself.

KOLEK

Jebediah walked a stones throw along a stone lined path.
He threw a stone at a stone crab that had aroused his wrath.
He ate the stone crab and whatever’s at hand because he was stone broke,
a result of his hand being crushed years ago by a stony criminal bloke.
Rich folks, they wear stone-washed clothes to make a fashion statement,
But he was forced to wear old clothes ’cause he was no longer stonemason.
He cursed the bread, and went without meat and dreamed of precious stones,
And so he loved being stoned and being stone-deaf when living amongst the stones…

HOUSTON KEYS

The Sunday school teacher asked his class if they would like some bread. With a resounding yes they all cheered.
The teacher then gave each of them a round stone to emphasize the teachings of the Gospel of Matthew.
The teacher asked, “What kind of father gives you stones if you ask for bread?”
One of the kids piped up, “You would, you jerk!”
Taken aback by the sudden fury the teacher replied, “People who live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.”
The rest of his sayings were drowned out by a hail of stones thrown from angry little hands.

B

It can be a sound or smell that takes us back to a time or place.
The smell of Aramis cologne always made Fran retch when the wind wafted the stench in her direction. Bringing back ugly memories of a monster she should never have loved.
She would reach into her pocket when ugliness would press upon her. Her touchstone.
A small, white stone nature had inlaid with quartz in the shape of a Magnolia.
Magnolias meant “Be not discouraged; better days are coming.”
Moonlight had revealed it and as it did on that night, it always vanquished the ugliness.

WILLIAM

After Sherry’s fiancee, Sam, died in a gruesome winch mishap,
there remained the matter of selecting a gravestone.
When a consoling relative offered to make the arrangements,
Sherry was grateful to be spared that task.
“Just a modest stone”, she suggested, “with an appropriate message.”
On the day of the funeral, Sherry viewed the stone for the first time.
The words she read upon it struck her like an iceball to the side of the
head.
“Oh no! How AWFUL!”, she cried.
Deeply engraved into the stone, the epitaph read:
Here lies Sam,
Sherry tore his guts out.
RIP

LAURENCE SIMON

Battered and bruised from a nightmare of a weekend, Jesus remembered the advice his father gave him through the Angel Gabriel.
“Lift with the legs, not the arms,” said the angel. “Otherwise, you might get a hernia.”
“What if I wear a support garment under my robe?” asked Jesus.
“You might not always have one,” said the angel. “Trust in ergonomics.”
Breathing deeply, Jesus rubbed his belly until the pain subsided.
Then, he hunkered down, laid his shoulders into the stone, and thrusted with his legs until he could feel the heavy seal sliding from the front of his tomb.

PLANET Z

Don’t call Dwight “The Apeman” – he doesn’t like being called that.
Sure, it’s his last name. It spells out Apeman. And Apeman isn’t French or German or Swahili no matter how many dashes, umlauts, and squiggles you stick over it or dangle from it.
Then there’s the fact that Dwight physically resembles an ape-man hybrid. It’s as if his mother of father had a really good time in the Monkey House one night, or he escaped from some Mad Scientist’s lab.
Oh, and there’s the fact that he’ll brain you with his stone axe if you call him “Apeman.”

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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 Oldield from the Tubular Bells II album.)