Caveat Lepus

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A rabbit hopped into a bakery.
“Ya got any carrot cake?” asked the rabbit.
“Sorry, no,” said the baker.
The next day, the rabbit came back.
“Ya got any carrot cake?” asked the rabbit.
“Sorry, no,” said the baker.
This went on for days. The baker began to feel bad for the rabbit, and so he decided to bake a carrot cake – cream cheese icing, the works.
The next day, the rabbit came back. “Ya got any carrot cake?” he asked.
“As a matter of fact, I do!” said the baker with a smile.
“Tastes like shit, doesn’t it?”

Pianissimoforte

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And now, for the first time, a mid-week 100 word story by Caleb Bullen of the Black Tie Martini Club Oddcast:

The defensive Baritone thundered at the conductor, “I can’t do this! Pianissimo is not my forte!”
The conductor countered meekly, “Of course it isn’t. Pianissimo isn’t anyone’s forte, the two words are antonyms. What you meant to say, I’m sure, is that Pianissimo is not your forte. You see, forte means loud and forte means something you’re good at”
“But I’m a trained baritone! What I’m good at is being loud! So again I say, Pianissimo is not my forte!”
The conductor swallowed two more aspirins and wished he’d listened to his parents when they suggested he become an accountant.

Tony’s Final Ride

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They found Tony impaled on the unicorn’s horn on the Merry Go Round.
“I want to ride on the unicorn!” he had shouted not less than an hour ago. “Now! Now! Now!”
The past year had been hell on Tracy. Being a big sister to a little brat was sheer hell.
Tracy smirked at the thought, and stepped up on the platform to get a closer look at her stepbrother.
He drooled blood, but the little retard was still smiling.
She stuck a hand in Tony’s pocket, pulled out the rest of his ride tickets, and ran for the Midway.

Kayak

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The starter’s pistol goes off, and we all rush to the freshest graves with our shovels.
Dig up the coffin, haul it to the take, and paddle to the other side.
Welcome to Morgantown’s Coffin Kayak Race.
Ever try it? You’ll learn quickly why funerals use six pallbearers.
Will it float? This is when the cheaper coffins are better, although if you end up with a really cheap or old coffin, you’ll take on water and go down fast.
Billy won last year, but he caught pneumonia and died after the race.
There’s his grave.
He’ll make a fine copilot.

Not Quite Panning Out

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Peter told Wendy to capture the second star to the right and fly straight on until morning.
Wendy wasn’t good at telling left from right. Instead of Neverland, the kids wound up shooting straight at a gas giant.
John screamed all the way down into the swirling, deadly maelstrom.
Wendy backtracked and tried again, but she miscounted and headed for the fourth star below.
Michael’s corpse can be found on an asteroid, his face frozen forever in horror.
Wendy flew back home and, when cornered, told a cock-and-bull story about kidnappers.
She’d gotten sick of John and Michael’s snoring, anyway.

Paddling To Redemption

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They say that if you stand out in the rain on Redemption Island, all of your troubles will be washed away.
Lord, we’ve got troubles.
So we checked the forecast, borrowed a boat from the factory, and paddled to Redemption.
There was nothing on the island but sand and metal blobs.
“Are we supposed to be naked when it rains?” asked Chloe.
Nobody knew.
The sky grew dark, and the rain began.
“It tingles!” giggled Chloe.
Then the sulfuric acid kicked in, and it started to burn.
Everybody else screamed, but I was laughing.
Troubles, flesh – what’s the difference?

Paperboy

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Teddy’s mother abanoned him.
She stuffed him into a newspaper vending machine instead of leaving him on a doorstep.
Every time someone bought a paper, they’d take a newspaper, but leave him in the machine.
Teddy grew up in that machine, learning to read from the headlines and living on free samples in Sunday editions.
“Hi, people!” Teddy said to people buying papers.
“Hi, Teddy!” people said back. “Bye, Teddy!”
Other machines showed up for alternative newspapers, circulars, weekly rags. What an eyesore!
The city passed a law making newspaper vending machines illegal.
Teddy’s machine vanished. And so did Teddy.

Weekly Challenge #18 – Roosters & Hernias

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Welcome to the eighteenth 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 rooster and hernia.
Nine stories were submitted this week: one of them was a rookie. Oh, and there was one from Planet Z which… which…
I just can’t make myself say it.
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorite:

Who wrote the best story this week?
The Mystery Man from Planet Z
Libby from Last One Speaks
Lisa from Lemons and Lollipops
Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club Oddcast
Caroline
Andrew of Dodgeblogium
Elisson from blog d’Elisson
T.A. Marquette from Footnote Podcast
Kolek from The Kollektive
Houston Keys
  
Free polls from Pollhost.com


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 will be posted shortly, and for God’s sake don’t blame me for it. You’re the ones who voted.

Sevens

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Back in Springfield, Raul and I would climb up the willow tree, lay back on the branches, and watch the moon through the leaves.
We pondered important things up there.
“Who’d win in a fight: The Magnificent Seven or the Seven Dwarves?” asked Raul.
“I have no idea,” I said. “Let’s find out.”
We looked down from the tree and watched a group of men in Wild West gear square off against brightly-colored little people.
The echoes of gunfire.
The clang of heavy mining equipment.
Blood everywhere.
The dwarves would have lost if the singing broad hadn’t have showed up.

Drag The River

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The last time anyone saw Nancy, she was down by the river.
With men. With guns.
“Drag the river,” I said.
Three days later, the divers had found a few cars, some guns, a lot of knives, and a pool table.
But no Nancy.
“Maybe they stuffed her into the pool table?” I asked.
“No,” said a diver. “We checked.”
“How about in the trunk of one of those cars?” I asked.
“No,” said another diver.
Nancy showed up three days later. She’d been on vacation.
I tried to refurbish the pool table, but it was a total loss.
Damn.