Weekly Challenge – Page 80 – The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Weekly Challenge #161 – Elvis Drives A Bus, The chance meeting of a sewing machine and an umbrella on an operating table?

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Sixty-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… was…. um…
It’s Telescope.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

Lynda

Rain. This city is full of it.
I sell things. Last year? Pillows. Now? I was schlepping Singer iSew green technology sewing machines. Big difference.
The 33 pulled into the stop right on time. A bad sign overlooked. I lugged my sample up the steps and swiped my MetroCard.
“Uh, thankyouverymuch,” the driver drawled. He wore a rhinestone jumpsuit and twitched like his pelvis was dislocated.
Didn’t take him long to swerve the bus into some stranger in the crowd. Took longer to dislodge the iSew from my chest and the umbrella from my skull.
Wish I had a pillow.

Daphne

Funny how fate works. My sewing machine died and I had an appointment with the Sewing Machine Doctor. Despite the rain I headed to the bus stop. I boarded and the driver looked familiar but I couldn’t place him. When I got to my stop I had to ask where he got those blue suede shoes turns out that store is next to the repair shop. Arriving there I put my machine on the operating table then headed for shoes. Only to realized I left my umbrella on the table. As I turn around to go back, I bump into you.

Tom

The King hit the execrator crashing through the gates at Area 51. He was hell bent to get Jack and Adolph off the desiccation table before the Doc could do any more damage The code name for Kennedy was Umbrella and Hitler’s was Sewing Machine. The improbability drive had produced the perfect surreal moment. The chance meeting of a sewing machine and an umbrella on an operating table. The King was having none of that peppering the screen with bullets The President, the Chancellor, and King had left the building. Elvis was driving the bus Thank you very much.

Norval Joe

The vascular surgeon leaned over the patient; special glasses magnifying the surgery site. The complicated reconstruction was stretching into its eight hour.
“Elvis drives the bus”, a deep voice boomed from the other side of a screen where the anesthesiologist monitored the patients vitals.
“The patient is waking up, Dr. Dwerma, check the level of anesthesia,” the surgeon barked.
To maintain a sterile environment in the surgical suite, unnecessary non-surgical possessions are discouraged.
No one expected the chance meeting of a nurses umbrella in the leg of her scrubs with the anesthesiologists sewing machine footstool would cause him to evaporate.

Guy David

Elvis was driving his bus, lovingly nicknamed “the umbrella.” He wasn’t really Elvis. It was just a nickname someone gave him. He didn’t even look the part, looking more like a chance encounter between a frog and a rabbit on the operating table. He didn’t remember how he got his nickname, but it stuck. As he was thinking about all of this, he failed to see the sawing machine. His wheel smashed it with such force that it got embedded into the bus, becoming part of it, much like many other mechanical parts left on the road throughout the years.

Platinum Lightning

They call me Stitchface.
That’s because I’m a sewing machine by trade. But in my eyes, that’s just a cover.
I was fixing up the pads on an operating table, when I saw Larry through the open doorway. “Hey, Larry!” I shouted.
Larry got all nervous. “Whaddaya need now?” said Larry. “More shade?”
“Very funny”, I said. “Remember that you’re made of cloth and I can easily sew your tongue to your penis. I’m looking for Elvis Winston, and you know where he is.”
“He’s a bus driver now,” said Larry. “Number 1485.”

Mick

Being trapped in this particular alternate reality is not all bad. The ‘Glorious Revolution’ of 1688 never happened; thus, no Jacobite uprising. Thousands of lives were spared.
Take young Andrew Presley; he was able to settle down in Aberdeenshire instead of fleeing to South Carolina. I met his descendant driving the 39A bus out of Glasgow just a week ago, a different genetic mix in his faded looks, but as I handed over the fare, there was the trademark “thankyouverymuch”.
I taught him “Are you lonesome tonight?” and cried as he sang it all the way to Easterhouse.

Ishtar

“Its over, Its finally over.” he mutters to him self with relief.
Sure things were great at the beginning, the money, women,
the power. As with all stories, all good has to end.
Drug use, long crazy nights, movies that never really taxed or
let him grow. He was self destructing.
Over 5 years he saved the money he needed. Paid off the
appropriate people. Soon everyone would think he passed away
tragically.
“Its time” he says. Elvis Drives a Bus. Who would think it.
Driving into the sun, his last thoughts:
“Your finally free of your past. What next”

Laurie

On my way to Rome, I was laughing with friends about how the bus driver looked like a cross between Elvis and Chris Farley. My giggles were interrupted as I answered my phone. The coroner said “brace yourself my sweet…she’s dead…Ms. Poppins is heaven bound and the family is requesting your best.” ..with an evil grin I managed to say “it will be delivered to you by tomorrow noon“…I have been obsessed with her since I was a mere toddler. I am a designer of the finest suit shop in London and I have received a request to create my only true love’s final suit…she lies there on that cold steel gurney…Autopsy yet to begin, her corset undone just perfectly …see her beautiful bounty peeking out the top…her tailored suit was just as i had left it… ripped and muddy and her umbrella still at her side …I visited my old attic and there in the corner, ready for our last dance, was the first machine I ever owned…I quickly carried it to my flat and swooshed my new machine aside…it refused as if to say ..”I didn’t think we would ever have a chance to meet” …then it gave way and I began to create A gown that all of England would envy …as I approached the funeral their were 1000’s lined up to see my precious nanny dressed like nothing short of a Proper Saint…I will always love you Mary.

Justin

The life of a rock and roll star had been eating away at Elvis. Prince Namor, a big fan of The King, arranged a fake death and offered the chance to undergo a genetic change and live in Atlantis.
Now Elvis drives a tour bongo, an exciting venture. One time a grumpy shark attacked. Elvis fought it off and incapacitated it. At the hospital, an operation found the shark had an upset stomach from eating an umbrella and a sewing machine.
Elvis enjoys his submarine life and sometimes performs at casinos, playing songs like “Sea Dog” and “Jail Reef Rock”.

Lance

Sure I’ve seen Elvis. Hasn’t everyone? Drives a bus for OC Transpo up in Ottawa. He was cool, too. Gave me that smile.
Pass me that umbrella, would you. It’s a little hot in here. No, the big one. Next to the sewing machine. Thanks.
Ottawa’s pretty popular in celebrity afterlife. Einstein runs one of the university bookstores. Churchill vacations there in the summer.
Hold still. Just a few more stitches. There you are, Mr. Price. Good as new, more or less. Yes, I highly recommend Ottawa. You can tell Jack and Marilyn that when you see them at lunch.

Anima

The motor swivels hips… the brolly ribs expand, filling either pegged jeans, military khakis or vintage jumpsuits.
The chance meeting of a sewing machine and an umbrella on my operating table provided the inspiration for my best automaton yet!
Safety conscious, I tried bump sensors from a roomba. They sucked. So I nicked the parking proximity sensors from my neighbor’s truck.
Install one GPS unit from the pawn shop, a pirated shared music library, TCB sunglasses and ELVISmaton is perfected!
Three clicks in the muni HR computer… There! The #7 crosstown is now driven by E.
Enjoy the ride!

Danny

It was a rainy afternoon in Seattle when they got off the bus for lunch. Eight homemade renderings of the King all sat around the teppanyaki table as the chef danced with razor sharp ginsu knives. Gold Elvis clasped his hands around his throat, a large piece of beef wasn’t going down, and the Heimlich proved ineffective.
Gold Elvis writhed in panic and toppled a bottle of oil onto the griddle. The flames ignited a White Elvis rhinestone cape triggering the sprinkler system. Gold Elvis fell to the floor, an umbrella popped open. The Benihana chef acted quickly with a Ginsu Tracheotomy
Beginner’s luck, he said, wiping the blood on his apron.

Planet Z

People say I taught my dog Elvis to drive.
I didn’t. He’s self-taught.
He’s a good driver, too.
Sure, he’s only five and can’t read, and he’s a dog, but the county gave him a special permit.
We’ve been on television and such.
The city asked him to star in a commercial for the bus system. Elvis would drive a bus.
It was raining that morning. And he’s not so good when cats cross the road. Steers to hit them.
Twenty stitches. And he lost his driver’s license.
I hope he doesn’t lose his pilot’s license, too. He’ll be devastated.

Weekly Challenge #160 – Bacon

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Sixty, 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… was…. um…
It’s Telescope.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

Tom

my uncle bunny’s wife was the most exotic member of my father’s family. She had been a ballerina. A statement that had been so self apparent it defied temporal reference. No one knew where or when. You could have as easily said Aunt Aida had been nature itself.
I loved going over to her house for lunch. She made this equally exotic sandwich made from tomatoes lettuce and bacon. She called it a b-l-t. She made it sound like an ancient incarnation. In the German/Irish nomansland where I grew up tomatoes and lettuce were as rare as beluga and borsht.

Lance

The Splornt ship bristled with weapons, all pointed at us. They’d cut off communications, not liking what we had to say, but we weren’t letting them take Planet Bob without a fight.
“Mr. Hansen, set phasers to baconize.” The Captain tried to be clever at these moments. Hansen was new, young. He’d ask.
“Um, ‘baconize’, sir?”
“Baconize, Ensign. That’s what I want the Splornt to look like when we’re done: bacon.”
The silence seemed long. “Phasers to, uh, baconize, sir.”
“Excellent. On my mark.”
The rest of the bridge crew heaved a collective sigh. It could have gone far worse.

Norval Joe

They moved like a living lava flow; a black, brown and liver red wave, oozing and roiling over hills and valleys.
No one knew where they had come from, or how many there actually were; hundreds, maybe thousands.
They were a surge of feral hunger that broke, snarling, whining and growling, onto main street and rushed for the center of town. Vicious razor sharp teeth tore and wickedly strong claws dug at the door to the factory.
It was clear what they had come for; Bonz.
The bacon flavored treats preferred by all dogs, but mysteriously irresistible to wiener dogs.

Anima

The klaxon blasts; the lunch hour is nigh;
My stomach whines of a long gone breakfast.
The fodder I brought only makes me sigh,
300 calories leaves me downcast.
From the corner I smell burgers ablaze,
Hot oil cooking fries by the bushel,
Pools of condiments: ketchup, mayonnaise,
Mountains of salt, nary a thing healthful.
O Beautiful sight! My waitress nears,
Laden with a cheeseburger and bacon.
Drool adorns my chin, from joy I shed tears,
With each tasty bite, my veins do thicken.
No tales to my spouse, tell not my trainer,
Saturated fats are what I live for.

Terrence

My Brother was a TV food addict. That is not to say that he was addicted to TV dinners; he would eat anything he saw on TV.
For the most part there was not a n issue. We kept him away from Science Fiction after an episode of Star Trek sent him looking for Gagh. I cannot even bring myself to talk about the Fear Factor incident.
One day I was in the kitchen getting donuts and making him a Squishy. That was when I heard the statement that made my heart drop and my stomach turn. “Mmmm, bacon wrapped butter.”

Daphne

The cafeteria had their usual Friday Breakfast Buffet. They had pancakes, french toast, scrambled eggs, breakfast burritos, corned beef hash, home fries, sausage links and sausage patties. Everything you could want was there except for bacon. The first time this happened the kitchen staff said they under ordered for the week an were out by Friday. The second time they said they ran out earlier in the morning. This was the third time. It was almost noon by the time the police just had it all under control until the lunch menu went up and BLTs were the sandwich special.

Laurie

What awakened me? The birds circling overhead or the piercing pain. I feel the heavy handcuffs as my eyes scan the surroundings for my backpack. He looked like a surfer and she had an adorable skull with rhinestones on her tight tank-top. People that cute never pick up hitchhikers. Out of the mouth of the tent she advances and sits beside him at the campfire. They whisper their options. Getting rid of me and keeping the stolen money, or turning me in to get the reward. Discussing my fate over Bacon and eggs.

Lynda

When the flu hit, I figured everyone was cannibalizing each other for laughs. Then I caught it and started to change.
Clinics were turning people in, so I went to my ol’ buddy Chivito, he always fixes me up. He gave me something he swore would cure me if I rubbed it all over and wrapped myself in plastic. I joked with him I’d be ready to eat if it didn’t work. I should’ve noticed he was laughing a little too loud, licking his lips, even.
It’s been a week. I smell like bacon.
I hear someone at the door.

Craig

On soft cotton sheets, fresh with spring air, Franny dropped her robe, edging herself onto the bed. With her finger tips she placed warm bacon upon her inner thighs, letting juices dribble to the sheets, letting the grease adherer each slice to her skin. Using her salty fingers Franny massaged the bacon with ice cubes, turning it translucent white, like her skin. Laying back upon the crisp sheets, Franny enjoyed the mingling of odors, the touch of meat. Beckoning me, she softly commanded, “Be my Trojan Horse, make me sizzle, devour me.” I emerged breathless, from the dark corner.

Jeffrey

It is funny the things that you miss when the whole world goes to hell in a hand basket. You would thing you miss things like, your car or maybe your house. Not me, I miss the little things. I miss curling my toes in deep pile carpet, or having shoes so I don’t have to walk on broken glass every time someone goes on a shooting rampage. I miss being able to brush my teeth once in a while. But since the swine flu killed over everything but the pigs I am not missing my bacon. Come here suee

Justin

Timmy loved his dog Lassie. Then Timmy began to understand what Lassie was saying. It wasn’t anything strange, scary, or ominous, it was annoying. A normal day brought incessant yapping about the most ridiculous things like undetectable sounds or smells. It got bad when Lassie smelled bacon. Lassie shouted ‘BACON’ repeatedly and chewed on anything that had come into contact with it. One day during the bacon fest Timmy nearly went insane. When no one was looking he tossed a plate piled with bacon down the well. Lassie dove in. Timmy did not rush to an adult to get help.

Mike P

The squad car pulled up to the stoplight, waiting for the green light.
A biker looked over, an evil grin plastered across his face. “Hey,” he asked his buddies, “do you smell hot dogs?”
“Yeah, I think so. Or maybe bratwurst?”
“You know, I’m pretty sure it’s fried spam,” a third chimed in.
“No, my friends,” the first biker said, “that is the unique scent of scrapple.”
The officer’s hands tightened on the wheel. As the light turned green, he swerved over and gave the bikers a ‘friendly’ nudge into a parked SUV.
It’s never pretty when bacon goes bad.

Guy David

Porky Pig was looking Daffy Duck in the eyes. They have come to a stand still. There was no doubt about it, someone was going to get it, but which one? We set there at the movie theater, enjoying every brilliant frame, every punch-line. At that moment, the sound of an explosion shook the not so silent screen. We waited in amused anticipation for the outcome. We didn’t have to wait long. The figure of Daffy Duck rotating a staffed Porky Pig above the fire appeared out of the smoke. “Looks like we’re having bacon for lunch” he said.

Planet Z

When you arrive in Hell, they tell you why you’re there.
“Oh, I already know,” I said. “Poisoned bacon.”
“That’s how you died,” said The Devil. “Not why you’re here.”
He slid a few photographs across the table.
I already knew what they would show. “Let’s go.”
Hell is a massive iron spike upon which the damned are impaled up through the ass and out the mouth.
You shit in the face of the soul below you, and the one above shits in yours.
Repeat that a few billion times.
Here’s my advice: be good.

Weekly Challenge #159 – Telescope

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Fifty Nine, 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… was…. um…
It’s Telescope.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

Michael

Remarkably I remember the first time I really used a telescope to reach out and further my understanding of the universe in which I live. Those special spaces I saw were spectacular as I studied the celestial spattering on those splendid summer nights now so very long ago. Then my training taught me to take my telescope to outer terrestrial territories, to touch temporarily the terrific tapestry in our tumultuous galaxy. Now I know nothing can negate the never ending mental nourishment I negotiate each time I put my noggin on the near side of my telescope.

Guy

Monica walked into little Bill’s room and found him looking through his telescope. “Don’t you have homework?” she asked. “I’m looking at the stars.” Bill answered in a dreamy voice, “It’s homework.” “Drink something” said Monica, “it’s a warm day.” “Mom” said bill in an exasperated tone. Monica put a finger to her lip, shushing him. Bill picked up a half filled glass. Satisfied, Monica left the room. Bill immediately run to the Telescope and continued watching. The man at the opposite building was now fumbling with the woman’s bra. Bill set down and relaxed, ready for some fun entertainment.

Terrence

It was not until I had checked in that I learned about the Astronomers’ convention. I thought, ‘this can’t be that bad.’ Boy was I wrong. The day was quite, almost a ghost town, but the moment the sun was down they poured out of their rooms.
The discussions started immediately and they quickly turned in to arguments at the mention of Pluto. I had my thoughts, but I was going to play it safe and just listen, but I headed straight to my room to get my bags the moment I heard. “Is that a telescope in your pocket…?”

Danny

There are billions of stars in the sky. Eastern philosophy says that man’s destiny is written in these red giants, supernovas, pulsars and constellations. That’s what my Dad says anyway; he is an astronomer at UCLA. He is my hero, and someday, I’ll be an astronomer, just like him.
When I was thirteen he got me a high powered telescope for my birthday. I was lucky to have the upstairs room, and he was beaming proud that I used that telescope every day. My father gave me the greatest gift a boy could ever want. I gazed on the perfect symmetrical moons of Suzi Morris’s tits every single starry night.

Norval Joe

Mr. Capulet was lived. “I won’t stand for that Montague boy climbing up into your room. I’m tearing down the trellises. I forbid you to even speak with that vermin.”
Romeo went to Walgreens and bought a small vile of poison and a Rocket Fishing Rod, with telescoping extension.
With a note, saying, “Put this poison in your fathers gruel”, he loaded the vial into the capsule.
He took aim and fired. The capsule opened five feet short of Juliet’s door, propelling the vial to the floor, inside, and leaving the note to settle in a corner of the balcony.

Lance

They called me The Telescope. Any part of my body, I can make longer or shorter, between twice its normal length and half. Not much against super strength or laser eyes, so I never made it as a hero. Had a great career as a boxer, though. Extra inch of reach the other guy can’t see coming? Goodnight, Irene. And a porn legend for a while. Yeah, that was me.
But all that’s a long time ago. Now I’m just an old man happy to reach things on the top shelf or pick stuff up without bending over. Life’s good.

Tom

Joey couldn’t wait to open the birthday present. “A telescope?” What was grandpa thinking about? Forks gets about 20 cloudless night a year.
For a 100 nights Grandpa and Joey would drag out the scope and tripod, set the tracker and waited. Without out a star they’d end the night.
When the sky finally opened up Joey watched the heaven dance before his eyes. The wait had truly been worth it come rain or shine.
Walking towards the mountain top observatory the young assistance complained to the director about the cloud cover. “Just wait” encouraged Joe sensing a dark turning

Ishtar

“5 Minutes till Impact” I say with tears in my eyes.
We’ve known about the end of the world for months.
All the Zealots and Mad catholic priests added to the mess.
Total societal shut down.
I’ve been locked in my hi rise apartment building for months.
I had the supplies but I was alone. Until I found her in the next building with my telescope.
Those last few months we would share written messages through glass. It made the loneliness lessen.
30 seconds left, she’s crying at the window.
5 seconds left, the sky burns bright red.
0 seconds. …….

Lynda

Avast ye, an’ hear the tale o’ eggheaded Iggy, the pegleg o’ Kitt Peak.
‘Twere last year’n he joined our crew, keepin’ mostly to hisself, never partakin’ o’ the grog nor goin’ ashore fer love. The day he swapped the Cap’n’s spyglass with a “Six-inch Newtonian reflector,” we gave ‘im a right flogging afore makin’ him walk the plank clutchin’ his fancy equipment.
Only afterwards we found the ship were fitted with warpin’ drives o’ some kind. None o’ me buckos knew how to work the thing an’ that’s how we come to land ‘ere on this frozen rock, Triton.

Anima

“The time is long past for the Church to admit errors between Catholic philosophies and the ideas of Galileo Galilei. In 1619 Signor Galilei proposed that the Earth and the known planets revolved around the sun, in direct opposition to the teachings as espoused by the Holy Book in Psalms and Ecclesiastes.”
“Are you sure, your Holy Eminence? Dare you forgive such heresey?”
“I suppose; 400 years is a long time to hold a grudge, no? Times are changing. Now, how long do you suppose we can cling to the idea that woman is the weaker vessel?”

Justin

I found a telescope that looks into the past. I used it to solve crimes. I could look at the crime scene and follow the suspect to find any clues they left behind. It didn’t always work because I had to prove what I saw. Sometimes I would see what happened, but found no way to prove it. I considered exacting justice myself, but how would I explain myself if found out? I can see into the future if I look through it backwards, but the view is distant. Maybe I can prevent crime. I just need to start looking.

Planet Z

At the conference, Dr. Foster demonstrated how light bending around black holes could be used as a telescope into our world’s past.
Grainy images demonstrated the shifting of the continents. The closer the gravity well, the more recent and clear the image.
“What about using antiphotons?” asked a researcher. “Do they show the future?”
It turns out they do.
We started with the closest singularity reflector for best resolution, and the changes were fascinating.
We’re shifting to the next one.
The video stream is resolving.
And… I feel sick.
Devastation. Massive ecological collapse.
Armageddon.
We are all doomed.

Weekly Challenge #158 – Knock Knock

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Fifty Eight, 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… was…. um…
It’s Knock Knock.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

Planet Z

After years of painstaking research, the dolphin language was finally deciphered.
Nothing but dick and fart jokes. Totally lowbrow humor.
We had hoped for a knock knock joke or two, demonstrating at least a basic level of interactive modality, but dolphins don’t have hands. Or use doors.
Irony is lost on dolphins, and don’t get me started on how they ruin Polock jokes.
Our grant was revoked, our findings buried.
We need a big success to keep from getting fired.
Next week, we start trying to translate Chinese. I’m so sick of having to point at pictures on a menu.

Please help me!
A strange man has locked me up in a very small box.
I can fit because I am a midget, but that’s besides the point.
This guy makes me read horrible stories, and if I refuse he feeds me olive
loaf.
Normally he feeds me macguffins with too much baconsalt.
This is not a real 100 word story, this is a cry for help. Please save me
from this man!
Sometimes he calls me names like Two Dogs.
He constantly knocks on the box. Going mad.
Oh, here he comes. Please, I’m begging you, record your stories!

Justin

Danny delved into the cave. Shadows played over the cuneiform letters etched into the walls, his torch flickering. Following the clues on the ancient parchment, he found the door.
He knocked.
The door opened.
A djini appeared.
“Two wishes! Speak carefully.”
Danny considered.
“I want a website template customized to make my website look great and load fast.”
“Done”
The djini produced a laptop to show the results.
“Sweet! Now I would like, a really snappy outfit to wear.”
Danny found wearing nothing but snapping turtles. Screams echoed. The djini laughed and turned, revealing a cracked shell. The door closed.

Danny

Horace adjusted the windage and elevation knobs on the ruby crystal telescopic sight of his 67dm Sniper Rifle. The knocking of the robots steel heart pounded at the drums in his ear.
‘One shot to open the can, another to put the bastard down,’ Horace thought to himself.
It was cold, damn cold. His finger trembled on the trigger as he squeezed. Before the noise of the explosive shot would reach the robot’s sensors, the chest would already be torn open. The second shot would be well on its way to impact before the mechanical systems could respond.
Long live humanity.

Anima

Knock knock knock
I search for the trigger, the one that will reveal the secret passage. Horatio told me of it just before he died. Where is it?
Within lies a chamber where mystics meet in the small hours. Should I gain passage, I can learn wonderous, magnificent things!
Sssh! Do you hear that? Shuffling footsteps behind the walls. They congregate again.
Frantically I search, but to no avail…
“How long has this been going on?”
“Over a year. The death of her uncle unbalanced the girl; All she does now is mutter to herself and rap on the walls.”

Sophie

Knock, knock. “Police open up.”
The door slowly opens.
“Sir, are you Tom Price the owner of the dog in the front yard?” the officer asks.
“Yeah, what about it?” Tom asks.
“We have evidence that you leave her chained without food, water or shelter and occasionally beat her.” states the officer.
“Don’t matter none, she’s my property.” Tom sneers.
“Not any more.” Sheila from the Rescue Society says as she approaches the door. “This dog will be relocated.”
“This is your third strike Mr. Price.” The officer says as he cuffs Tom. “You will be euthanized in 72 hours.”

Michael S

All was going well with our drug deal. I was counting the money when the new kid from Boston I had watching for cops started screaming, “Knock, knock.” Hell, I thought he was telling somebody a joke. Turns out he was saying, ”Narc, narc,” in that special Boston accent. That was years ago and to this day I break out in a cold sweat when I hear a “Knock, Knock” joke.

Lynda

“Why is the sky blue?”
“I don’t know, probably some mysterious cosmic coloring, like eggs.”
“What about eggs?”
“Well, they’re yellow and no one knows why.”
“The chickens know, but we ate them!”
“That’s right sweetie! All beat up with a little mayo! You’re so smart!”
“I got a joke!”
“Let’s hear it!”
“Knock knock!”
“Who’s there?”
“Two dogs fucking!”
“Honey, that’s not really something you should say for another fifteen years at least.”
“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SAY TWO DOGS FUCKING WHO?!”
“Okay, okay…two dogs fucking who?”
“You.”
“Wha–ARGH!”
“You’re silly!”
“Get them off me!”
“I want a puppy!”

Lance

Knock, knock.
“Trick or treat!”
“Well, aren’t you the cutest little fairytale princess. Here you go, darling. Happy Halloween!”
“Thank you!”
Knock, knock.
“Trick or treat! Arrr!”
“Well, shiver me timbers! ‘Tis a fearsome pirate an’ no mistake. Here be yer booty, ye scurvy dog.”
“Arrr. Thankee! An’ a Happy Halloween to ye, me hearty!”
Knock, knock.
“Braaaaaaains.”
“Wow. That is absolutely the best zombie makeup I’ve ever seen. How many hours did you have to sit still to look like that?”
“Braaaaaaains?”
“Sure, I understand. You’ve gotta stay in character.”
The zombie uprising began under the cover of Halloween.

Elisson

“Knock, knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“The Interrupting Pirate.”
“The Interrup…”
“Arrrrrrhhh!”
This joke used to crack us up when we were kids. Timing was everything.
I wasn’t laughing right now, though. Somali pirates were attacking our ship. The crackle of small-arms fire filled the air as the Somalis prepared to board.
The usual game. Hold us hostage, collect the ransom, move on. Insurance would pay the owners.
Not this time. As the pirates strode confidently on deck, laughing, Charlie interrupted them with the M134 Minigun, which promptly converted them into piles of gristle amidst pools of blood.
Yep: Timing is everything.

Guy David

Janice was a practical joker. The number of times we had to ask her “who’s there?” was ridiculous. We tried to stay away, but she would follow us, never understanding the hint. When they fired her, we all cheered. It was later that we read about it in the papers. She jumped off some bridge or another. Now she wonders the office floor telling her knock knock jokes. If someone refuses to play along, he suffers dire consequences. Only five of us are left. Here she comes. Let me utter the magic words that would keep us alive: “Who’s there?”

Tom

Knock Knock
“Hey kids what’s that sound?”
asks Snowball the clown.
“It two dogs …”
Ringmaster Fred quickly steps in cutting off Old Captain Billy before t slips out into the 2 million plus new York jersey TV market.
“Yes kids it seem the Captain as been sipping a little to much of his oj this morning.”
“Frack the kids” snorts Captain Billy
“The joke is in the Whiz bang you morons”
High above the sound stage in the control booth Mr. T Whitesides founder f Baby Bottom Soap is not happy.
“Fire that fucking clown” he yells

Ishtar

“Lock the door he’s almost broken through” Yells Clyde slowly shaking in
fear. His ultimate end was just around the corner.
Oh sure it was a harmless prank. No one really liked the new guy in town.
So round in the middle. Those horrid looking red boots he always wears.
Who would think he would go so far. Just for spray painting Puc Man
on his mail box shouldn’t cause this.
“Knock Knock Knock, I know it was you Clyde. Look at what I did
to Inky and Blinky. Yum Yum Yum. Your next. No one Fucks with
Pac Man.”

Manata

Amnesia is a bitch. Ever since the accident I can’t even remember who I am. It makes my life a living hell. The truth is, if one more person asks me my name, I’ll probably snap.
The only way I can deal with it is to stay high. I get my drugs at this speakeasy near my house. The only problem is the password. I bite my lip, approach the door, and whisper the code: “Knock knock”.
“Who’s there?” came the reply.
That’s it – the last straw.
I scream, “I DON’T KNOW! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD! I DON’T KNOW!”

Norval Joe

He rapped the back of his hand against the rough wooden plank, his knuckles making more of a sharp tapping sound since the flesh had worn away from the bones.
Knock, knock. The sound was faint through the thin layer of dirt hastily thrown over the wooden box.
Unable to call out, the muscles of his chest were too week to draw breath into throat and lungs clogged with maggots and worms.
Dead and animated, he didn’t think; he only hungered. He hungered to be free from this wooden box. He hungered for revenge against those who put him here.

Melissa

I could see it. Our lives, our future, coming up so fast, I couldn’t catch my breath; I felt the pang of need for oxygen in my lungs! There she was I couldn’t and wouldn’t move, I was entranced. Our destinies were intertwined and the heat was creeping up my back into my shoulders in my ears. I was capturing the butterfly and….
“‘KNOCK KNOCK! Sam are you listening to me?’” came the shrieking sound of Leila’s voice, my band mate from hell. Not even the sound of a derailing train could muffle the searing sound of her voice

Weekly Challenge #157 – Falling Bricks Hurt

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Fifty Seven, 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… was…. um…
It’s Falling Bricks Hurt.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

Ted

“Life’s full of pain… hemorrhoids, gout… hell, falling bricks!”
Steve instantly regretted giving that last example.
“Dude, I’m done dating… and no more concerts!” Mordecai blurted, flailing his limbs.
“Try not being a putz for five minutes,” countered his companion, wearing a visibly weary visage. “Tell you what, let’s grab a nosh.”
The duo sauntered silently down the sidewalk.
“Steve… she’s just,” Mordecai stopped short as suddenly as he had shattered the reticence.
Steve sensed Mordecai’s mood turn from aggravation to resignation… and he realized this is how his friend would be every time Falling Bricks Hurt played The Palladium.

Guy David

Leon was walking down the street, when a flying teapot landed in front of him. Out of the teapot there came little funny men with funny Gnome hats and half moon faces. “We are the pot head pixies” said one of them, “we are here to show you how to have a good time,” then they kidnapped him and took him to the planet Gong, where they partied all night, and all day afterwards, then Leon awoke in his home with a hangover that was similar to a brick falling on his head, but had some strange colors in it.

Tom

The Urban tribe that occupied the ruined city had a tradition of naming their children after the first thing the mother saw after giving birth.
“Grandpa how did you get your name?”
“I was born during a eatherquake and that is why I’m called Falling Bricks Hurt”
“And Papa?”
“Your father was born on Christmas eve and he is called Batteries Not Included.”
“And Mama?”
“Your mother was born in the last operating taxi in the city and she’s called Objects In The Rearview Mirror May Appear Closer That They Are.”
“Thank you Grandpa.”
“Your very welcome Two Dogs Fucking.”

Norval Joe

Blocks away, across the city park, he set up the complicated apparatus. Multifaceted photoreceptors gathered solar power. He laughed vengefully as he flipped the lever on the clattering machine. A wormhole disintegrated the lower half of his ex-girlfriends apartment building, the upper half of the clay brick structure, subsequently, dropping though.
His victory over the woman, who embarrassed him in front of all his friends, was short lived.
The falling bricks hurt for only a moment, as the last of the upper three floors of apartment building dropped out of the other side of the wormhole, directly over his head.

Mike P.

Most people never look at the other side of sliced bread, unless it
falls butter side down. When the cookie crumbles all the chefs in the
kitchen cry like it’s spilt milk and no one calls for all the king’s
horses and all the king’s men in order to reassemble the pieces. When
the wolf huffs and puffs, people notice that the sticks and straw
crumple while bricks do not. It’s easy to assume that this is a story
about strong building materials, but it’s important to note that the
bricks are actually afraid to collapse. Falling bricks hurt
themselves.

Anima

“Frank –look! The bricklayers are almost done on the upper level . Ain’t it a beaut? Just like when we stacked blocks as kids.”
“Wow. I don’t know what to say Fred. It certainly is an interesting design. I’m glad the homeowner paid you up front…”
“Frank! I’m calling it “Falling Brick”. Aren’t the cantilevered decks just wonderful?”
“Yeah, but 7?… excessive, isn’t it?”
“Why are you always so practical? This way, every family member gets his own barbecue grill…”
“Fred, You’ve got a brick out of kilter over here. Let me see if I can fix that for you…”
“Nooooooo!”

Michael S

Little sister, Running Cantaloupe, run into teepee one day long ago. She been at river with little brother, Falling Bricks.
She scream,”Falling Bricks hurt, Falling Bricks hurt.”
We all go river. Falling Bricks only play like hurt.
Chief Two Dogs Humping not think funny. Take Falling Bricks to teepee.
They come out teepee.
Little brother hold butt and say, “Falling Bricks hurt.”
This time he no play.

Sophie

The headline reads “Falling Bricks Hurt Five”.
The story reads like it was boys night out and something went just a little wrong…just kid stuff.
The story is bullshit, so typical of the “feel good” press we have today.
I saw it happen, heard the screams.
It was nightfall…four teenaged boys standing on the overpass.
They were excited, cajoling, each using one hand to hold up their oversized pants.
They began hoisting cinder blocks over the bridge onto the traffic below, then ran off…laughing.
It was over in less than a minute.
Mayhem ensued.
Five dead.

Lynda

A 58-year-old man from Brooklyn with no prior arrests and no evidence of drug or alcohol dependency was transferred from police custody to the state mental institution after being arrested for disturbing the peace and complaining of auditory hallucinations.
Employed as a bulldozer operator for 30 years, the patient reported hearing screams from the site of a recent demolition. He was found attempting to rearrange rubble, excitedly repeating apologies and insisting the bricks must be reunited.
Prognosis looks bleak as the patient won’t stop trying to introduce the concrete blocks in his cell long enough to take medication.

Justin

Salim leaped the spike pit. It loomed in the middle of a well-traversed main hallway. Rubbish. What if the trap accidentally spung, hurting someone innocent? Salim forgot the spike trap and dodged three circular blades protruding from the walls and spun, moving vertically in a predictable pattern. Once past it, his thoughts moved onto his target: The Golden MacGuffin. Thievery was not his mission though. He wanted to destroy the Sultan’s palace. The man murdered his father. As soon he stole the MacGuffin, the palace would slowly crumble. The foolish Sultan shouldn’t have let videogame designers install the security system.

Danny

Justin wandered about in the shadows watching the fascinating people. He
smelled the breads and listened to the pop of corks for hours before finally
settling on the perfect sunny patch of grass to feast. Justin the turtle
munched on the greenery of the city he loved, Paris.
1,063 feet into the sky, Gaston Space Pierre ran back and forth on the
observation platform of the Eiffel Tower, his parents not at all effective.
A stray brick from a display for Gustave Eiffel found his palm. He tossed it
over the rails.
Justin looked up just in time to catch the impromptu solar eclipse to the
head.

Jeffrey

I had a friend who took all of the hard drives from the old 486 systems as we retired them. We all asked him what he was going to do with them, but he always gave us the same answer, these bricks, they are for my castle in the the clouds. Needless to say he was a little bit off his rocker. He had quite the wall of them when I left that job. He had taken his cubical wall down and replaced it with careful stacked hard drives. Then he was downsized. We heard the screams the bricks fell.

Planet Z

Falling bricks will hurt your grade.
That’s what the architecture professor says as we enter our designs into the weather simulator.
Rain. High winds. Maybe an earthquake if he’s pissed.
One by one, the buildings appear in the holography tank.
I wait for mine to appear.
Russian music begins to play in the room.
A colored brick falls from the top of the display and lands in my project’s gridspace.
Then another.
The professor raises his eyebrow.
Oh. Right. Tetris.
That memory module has my old arcade games on it.
He hands it back to me.
And whispers “F.”

Weekly Challenge #156 – The Stinking Rose

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Fifty Six, 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… was…. um…
It’s The Stinking Rose.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

Danny

“Ow, what was that for Charlie?”
“Because your ugly and you smell bad,” he pushed her down, laughed, and ran.
Rose brought her six year old dirty knee stinging to her chest. Silent tears rolled down her rosy cheeks as she sighed. She still loved him, no matter what.
“Make the photo shoot for eight tomorrow morning. I have to do an interview with Glamour,” Rose hung up the phone.
Rose checked her email. Another Facebook friend request, her tenth of the morning.
‘He Rose its Charlie, we should hang out sometime.’ Rose smiled as she pushed the reject button.

Fricker

Even though I told her I was sorry about forgetting our anniversary, she was so upset that she actually tried to castrate me. She had this look in her eyes just like a crazed Jack Nicolson from The Shining. Kitchen shears tightly gripped in one hand she said …”You come home late smelling like smoke and cheep perfume and all you have for me is this stinking rose! “
She leaped towards me to claim her revenge as I cupped my family jewels and ran for the nearest escape route … snip! “Now let’s put this rose in some water” Whew!

Justin

My father always told me that when things get busy and hectic in daily life to take time and smell the roses. I always took this in a more metaphorical sense. Just take a moment to stop and enjoy life’s beauty. My father passes away and while preparing the funeral and the estate, things got very busy. I was working on the outside of his house, feeling a bit flustered. I saw his rose garden. I went to it and took a big whiff. They smelled terrible! That’s how I came to learn that my father fertilized them with beans.

Jeffrey

Juliet: O, be some other name!
What’s in a name? that which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet;
As it turns out it is not as sweet, we renamed the rose and what we came up with is well, not so pretty. We have but a small amount of time left, in which to transmit this warning. When the station was renamed it seems to have awoken and angered the spirit that resided here. Oh by the heavens! Stay away!
Juliet:Yea, noise? then I’ll be brief. O happy dagger!
This is thy sheath

Houston Keys

Dear Muscle Armed Paper Boy,
I am over you and you can keep the stinking rose you didn’t send me. I
thought you were different and we could spend long hours sitting on
the front steps sucking on popsicles from the cellar. I daydreamed we
could be friends (very close, special friends). I have found another
muscle armed MAN who can make me feel like the person I am inside.
You just stay away from me. And keep your dang paper you sumbitch.
Your special friend forever.
Love,
Herbert
There, it’s done, come sit on my lap.
That tickles.

Michael P

People tend to overlook the details in fairy tales. They see a prince
fall from Rapunzel’s tower into rose bushes to be blinded by thorns.
They see an old hag-turned-beautiful enchantress turn an arrogant
prince into a beast, leaving a single rose to mark the passage of
time. They see a prince presenting Cinderella with a rose after her
foot fits perfectly into the glass slipper.
They don’t realize that Rapunzel is the old hag. That Belle is
Cinderella’s step-mother. That it’s the same stinking rose, over and
over. That there is only one immortal, unaging prince.

Anima

I hate him!
Honey, what’s wrong? Not going to the dance?
That stupid boy Wolfgang. I hate him, and I hate it here! I want to go back to California. I’m 17, and you’ve ruined my whole life. I coulda stayed with aunt Julia to finish school, but you “wanted me to broaden my horizons…”
Look at me! It’s senior prom, and I’m dressed like an extra from the Sound of Music. Look at that! My corsage… All I wanted was one stinking rose, and Wolfgang brought me garlic!
You’ll adjust dear; they just do things “differently” here in Transylvania.

Guy David

I was standing at the edge of known space. The grid lines where extremely beautiful. I knew that was it, I was going to jump right into reality. I was going to smell a real rose. I made it, half expecting to disappear in a cloud of pixels. The contraction I built converted me into a real person in the real world. I could feel the real breeze on my face. I found a flower shop, which I entered. I picked up a single rose and smelled it, exhaling deep. I wrinkled my nose in disgust. The rose was stinking.

Michael S

I was chained to the floor as punishment for my repeated offense. I stood in the center of the room listening as the valves opened followed by the sudden rush of sewer water filling the room. In a matter of minutes it was waist high and rising. I was sickened by the disgusting things floating on top the water as the stinking rose to within inches of my mouth and nose.
“Have you no mercy,” I screamed.
“I warned you about that toilet seat time and again,” my wife said.
There was my answer. There would be no mercy.

Tom

The strangest job I ever had was driving Carol Doda between San Jose and San Francisco. I’d get her to the KCSC studio for her on-air editorial. She’d finish, turn sideways, 44 inches of bust line would swing cross the TV monitor. We’d jump in the car and fly up Highway 101 for the lateshow at the Condor Club. Carol had a thing for garlic gorgonzola we’d stopped at the Stinking Rose just before showtime. 33 years later whenever I’m in the city I walk by her historical marker on Columbus and Broadway, head up the street for some gnocchi.

Norval Joe

The smelly rose powder told Johnny his mother was going out even before he saw her wearing the dress that showed too much of her legs.
“Don’t go out, Mom. Stay home and watch a movie with me.” He begged.
Anger flashed momentarily in her eyes. “You know Mommy needs her medicine. My friend, John, said he can get some.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Go to bed by Ten. I’ll be out pretty late.”
Johnny saw a grubby hand with dirty finger nails grasp his mothers arm as she left the house.
Johnny went straight to bed.

Elisson

The Count stood, his full height looming over Van Helsing. No escape… and yet the fabled vampire-hunter stood his ground.
“Doctor Van Helsing,” intoned the Count in a quiet voice that carried the accent of Transylvania. “I almost regret that I must kill you. You have always been a worthy opponent. A gentleman with a boutonnière!
“What kind of flower is that, anyway?” He leaned in for a closer look…
…and was rewarded with a squirt in the eye. Dracula screamed in agony, his body dissolving into a thick mist.
“It’s a rose,” replied Van Helsing. “A stinking rose.”

Sophie Shores

You tell me you adore me. I giggle.
You adorn me with lovely gifts, I am touched by you.
When we’re together you tell me how happy I make you.
You say our love is very special.
I’m only twelve but I know you are not like any of the boys at my school.
Our love is secret.
Now it’s over an you’re gone forever.
As your casket is lowered into the ground, I throw the stinking rose on it.
I watch my mother as she weeps for her lost lover.
I hear whispers you were poison.

Lynda

My wife, bless her, was such a romantic. You’d never know it to look at her when she’d start throwing things and feeding me stuff to aggravate my gout, but she always went on about this rose some guy gave her on their first date.
On our fortieth anniversary, I bought a rose and put it right in the middle of the bed for her to find. She never mentioned it. I just figured I got it wrong.
When the movers took the washing machine what do you think was on the floor with all the lint? That stinkin’ rose.

Lance

“What is that stench?”
“My latest creation.
Cross the common tea rose with the Venus Flytrap, a little genetic
tinkering, lots of growth hormone, and voila!
A sentry plant large enough to handle armed intruders.”
“It smells, Doctor.”
“True, it takes several minutes to extract its roots from
the ground, but once free it can remain mobile for up to an hour.”
“But why does it have to stink?”
“Huh? Oh. Legacy of the flytrap DNA. You see-”
“Arrrgghhh!”
Thwack! Thwack!
Groan.
“Don’t take it so hard, son. This is the perfect chance to test out my new
limb regenerator!”

Planet Z

She’s gone.
She was my Father’s Aunt Rose.
Her husband died years ago. They didn’t have any kids, not many friends.
Quiet and kept to herself.
In the suburbs, they say that kind of thing after a guy flips out, shoots a bunch of people.
But in the city, old… retired… alone… and you’ve paid your rent a year in advance, it can lead to something else.
No, they didn’t find a stinking, dessicated corpse when they kicked the door in.
The place was empty.
She’d sold everything and moved to Cancun. Told nobody.
Where she is now, who knows?

Weekly Challenge #155 – Rusty Steel

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Fifty Five, 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… was…. um…
It’s Rusty Steel.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

Anima

I hunt along the rusty Steel river… Eerie hulks list and careen; weeds grow out of the crazed asphalt. When cars ran out of gas on I-95, travel halted on the east coast. Anything salvageable is long gone.
The seats and mirrors are missing, but the trunk is still latched. How did this get missed by the others? The lock gives, and I find- 2 blankets and a box of powerbars. A corner of the carton is gnawed, but most bars are whole. Enough to trade.
Today is a good day, I think, as the cold sun reflects off my face.

Houston Keys

Hello there everyone this is Republican Chairman Michael Steele in for
Bill Bennett. Let’s go to the phones, Rusty from Lenoir City,
Tennessee, you are on!
Mikey, it’s your brother.
Yo my homie brother! It’s good people realize I DO have street cred. WORD!
No, Mikey, it’s your REAL brother.
I don’t have a biological brother sir, but we are all brothers in the
conservative movement.
Mikey, brothers as in we share a mother. My name is Rusty.
Rusty Steele?
Yes.
Oh lordy lordy, this has to be either a bad joke or a REALLY GREAT one
hundred word story.

Lynda

“Excuse me sir, are you Hattori Hanzo?”
“No.”
“With all due respect, sir, I was here when that lady came in here before and–”
“Yeah, alright, it’s me! What do you want?”
“Well, sir, I was wondering if you could do anything about this sword?”
“Oh…what have you done to it? This is not a disposable weapon, you fool! It is a work of art! My steel must be treated with respect! Oiled, cleaned, kept…out of certain things. Tell me, how did it get into this state?”
“It’s really hard to shower with a sword through my head, sir.”

Justin

Everything changed when the aliens took the moon away. Over time the tides stopped and a desolation crept across the planet. Small teams of aliens arrived to slowly wipe out survivors. They came across a lone clock tower that rose above the ruins. Rhythmic ticking quietly protested alien onslaught. The usurpers of life climbed the tower. In the center was a lone figure, weathered and aged. It raised its ticking eyes to the aliens. They raised their rifles. The figure reached reached to its back and wound up a key. One by one the aliens fell from the tower, dead.

Tom

Rusty Steel played petal guitar for Buck Edward’s Chaparral Stumpers. He hated being on the road so he only played session work on their albums. Buck begged him to come with, it took two guy playing as hard and fast as they could to give the road show that Rusty Steel sound. One year it was DuPre Reinhardt and Blind Willie Lang the next it was Baxter Gibson and Gusty Winds. When Rusty passed away Buck learned the reason he never toured was he just couldn’t bear to be away from his daughters for even one night. That’s a Dad.

Norval Joe

Inigo lay dead, the thrust to his heart so rapid and deadly that little blood oozed from the fatal wound.
It wasn’t a thrust from the shinning, razor-sharp, blade of a master swordsman, like Arnesto Cervantes, nor was it the rusty steel of a clandestine, blackguard, mercenary.
He had no opportunity to use the Agrippa defense and take advantage of uneven ground, or engage in witty banter with his attacker.
He couldn’t thrust his fist into the gaping wound and difiantly challenge his murderer.
Lawrence cut him down with an attack he could not counter; an expletive to the heart.

Daniel

In the onset of winter, the blink of an eye is all the time it takes to split the sternum and pierce the heart.
Four days will have gone by when the maggots and other insects begin to consume the flesh.
Thirty days until the beetles come to feast on the tough dry meat.
One hundred twenty days for the moths and bacteria to consume the remaining hair.
Spring will bring the warm humid rains as summer creeps upon what is left.
Fourteen days more until the steel blade bleeds dark red onto the newly polished and washed bone.
Eternity for the soul to forgive.

Bluesmoke

Don’t bring me any of those shiny steel rods. I like my steel rusty. I like it crunchy. I like steel that makes little popping sounds when I chew. I like that steel that slowly dissolves inside my body, leaving a warm sensation in all the right places. I used to nibble on rocks, but it wasn’t the same. Tiny pieces would get stuck in my teeth. Would take hours clearing. It was messy, and the taste was kind of stale. Now I’m on a steel diet. I’m telling you – rusty steel is the way to go. It’s the best.

Planet Z

We made the worker drones with simple carbon steel.
Planned obsolescence for a rainy planet. They lock up before they achieve individual intelligence.
Stainless steel wouldn’t have rusted as quickly. The same goes for zinc-electroplated.
So when chrome and zinc inventories were short last month, we knew something was up.
“Follow The Energy” is my first rule.
Three unauthorized taps from the solar halo grid.
Deep underground, scrap metal and drones were melted down and rebuilt with the stronger steels.
The Robot Army, waiting silently for the command to strike.
And so, by pushing a button, I give it.

Weekly Challenge #154 – Howl at the moon, I demand a recount, The fencing master, Matzo tower, The end is near.

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Fifty Four, 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… was…. um…
It’s Howl at the moon, I demand a recount, The fencing master, Matzo tower, The end is near..
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

Anima

“I demand a recount,” howled the fencing master to the moon-faced giant. Two men sit amidst sundry dismembered body parts; The Turk cradles the wounded Spaniard, the Dread Pirate Roberts.
“Si, Fezzik, recuentame the gory details…”
“Of how you spilled Selkirk’s entrails?”
“And the queen, she is still in power?”
“Safely hidden in the Matzo Tower.”
“Fezzik, you’ve a way with the rhymes.”
“Then pay me in ducats and not with dimes….”
“It’s ok Inigo. I will take you to Miracle Max.
I will carry you, just relax”
“Bah Fezzik! Set me down! Your end is near my face.”

Caleb

All the fencing master’s fences are torn down in her dreams. As she drifts through azure clouds of twilight the matzo tower howls at the moon.
She dives headfirst from the stars into a warm pink ocean that smells of mushroom soup and swims deeper and deeper into the night’s milky center.
A kamikaze swarm of calendar page paper airplanes swoops up from the world of the rising sun and they strafe her with appointments and torpedo her with meetings.
And when she feels the end is near she screams, “I demand a recount” and wakes up back in Kansas.

Jeffrey

“So Brad, what do you want to do tonight?”
“Well I was thinking that we would head into town and, whoa, um I think the end is near.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well there are ten people over there howling at the moon.”
“Ten, really? I demand a recount.”
“Alright, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. So I exaggerated you are right, there are only seven”
“See nothing to worry about, you always do that, you worry too much. now if there were a fencing master, or if we were near a Matzo tower, then I’d be worried.”

Justin

Listen to those wolves howl at the moon Snail Eater, they must be, oh, what’s this? Wasn’t there a sword in this stone? There is a hole for one. I had best put my spare sword in there in case anyone needs it. There is that Arthur kid. Abra-cadabra invisible on!
“I need a sword for tomorrow, hey, a stone with an emergency sword in it!”
He took the sword. I’m all out of spares. I wonder who took the previous one? I should remember tomorrow, but I had too much to drink after the joust! Something historic happened tomorrow.
—
Where did I put Snail eater? I had him in my pocket. How do you lose a purple snake.
What’s that commotion at the joust?
“I pulled this sword from that stone yesterday!”
“Not possible, I pulled this sword from it last night. Look, there is Merlin, he’ll know!”
Hmm, what? Oh, the sword. What is your name, man?
“Quillwyvern.”
And your’s young man?
“Pendragon.”
Which was it, I can’t remember?
What was that, you’re mumbling?
Oh, sorry. Pendragon is the king!
“What? But I took the sword from ow, something bit me!”
Oh, there you are, come back here!
—
“Merlin, aren’t you going to teach me to fight with this sword?”
Hmm, what? Oh, sorry, I’m still trying to find my pet.
“But,”
Oh, fine. I remember you convincing me, so lets get to it. Swing at me.
“Where is your sword?”
Oh, yes, that might have ended badly. Here we go, swing!
A good defense is to deflect a sword down to the ground, then stomp it, breaking it!
“Great, you broke my sword.”
Oh, yes, terribly sorry. Ah, take this coupon to the lake. I have a friend there who makes good swords.
“Watery Tart Sword Cleaning?”
—
Hello Lancelot!
“What are you making?”
A matzo tower! You see I’m using this strawberry jam to hold the crackers together.
“Interesting, is it for the masquerade?”
Yes, would you like to try, oh, hello Guinevere!
“Hello Merlin, Lancelot. What is this amazing tower?”
“Merlin is making a cracker tower for the masquerade!”
“Oh, may we try some?”
Certainly!
“Here you go, m’lady.”
“Thanks!”
“This is delicious Merlin, wouldn’t you say, Guinevere?”
“Yes, I would, but, we should go.”
“Yes, m’lady!”
Hmm, why were they looking each other like that? Now, more jam. Hey, this isn’t strawberry, it’s love preserves!
—
The lines of battle were drawn, truce only held in place by this; so long as no one pulled a blade from its sheath, uneasy soldiers would stay their hands from shedding blood. Hot breath puffed into the air as wary soldiers eyed those they might soon kill or be felled by.
One such knight stood gazing across the field of battle, a whisper of motion at his feet. A purple snake slithered towards his brother in arms beside him. He drew his sword and struck the snake down. Both armies charged. The end of Arthur’s reign was at hand.

Mike P

Though Matzo Tower was almost four miles away, the spire’s oppressive
presence hushed the small party’s conversation. Montoya, the fencing
master, crouched by the fire. “What do the sticks tell you?” he
asked.
The fortune teller gazed at the twigs she had scattered. “A warrior
will howl at the moon. Find the hand that lies in the shadow of the
light. In the eye of the husband of the eye of the cow. The end is
near. Mists of dreams drip along the nascent echo and love no more.
End of line.”
Montoya frowned thoughtfully. “Can I demand a recount?”

Lynda

When I was young the local fencing master paid my family twenty dollars to take me off their hands, shutting me away in a tower made of matzo to keep me pure. It had no shower.
On an expedition to procure a rare foil, the crazy bastard was bitten by a werewolf who had taken a fancy to me. Ten years without a shower has its consequences.
So you see, that’s why I’m eating my way out of this place. They’ll be arguing over who scored more hits until the moon goes dark, I’ve had it with both of them.

Michael S

“Ron, every time one of these women let me feel their breast while I’m dancing with them I’ll lean back and howl at the moon.”
“All right Gary start with Jim’s girlfriend. Give him a high five when you pass him. He’s on his way over here now.”
“Hey Ron, what’s up?”
“I’m just watching Gary dancing with your woman.”
“Yeah, Gary is such a moron. Look at him over there with his head laid back howling like a dog. The lady’s won’t put up with that.”
“Now look at him Ron. He’s over there trying to dance with your wife.”

Norval Joe

“Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, prepare to die!”
He couldn’t help it; He read the book three times and watched the movie countless more; each time he stepped forward to face an opponent, the thought came to mind, and he smiled.
He saluted his opponent. At the word ‘fence’ he advanced three quick leaps to stop, unable to attack.
A shy freshman at the Junior College, he took beginning fencing to meet girls, but could never bring himself to poke them in the breasts.
Defeated, he smiled, and moved the foil to his right hand.

Tom

Arnesto Cervantes, the fencing master, backed the mayor of New Barcelona up the matzo staircase, up the matzo tower. The duel was a result of a Edloe Island election. “I demand a recount.” yelled the Mayor. A thrust on top the matzo sent Cervantes reeling backwards. The Mayor’s blade glowed in the moonlight set to send Cevantes to his maker. A howl at the moon broke the still a gargoyle swooped in and lay teeth to the Mayor’s ass. The winged angel of death drove the mayor inches above Arnesto’s head. “The end was near.” Mused Mayor by default Cervantes.

Guy David

Howl at the moon
The moon is rising. I’m tired. Haven’t slept for days. If I go to sleep, the howling starts inside my head, an inhuman howl, like that of an animal. I’m scared. I’m scared because I know… I know the animal of my dreams is coming after me. He’s coming to get me, devour me. What – you don’t believe me? Take a look. Yes. Take a look into my eyes. You see it? You see it spreading like a disease? Wait until you go to sleep, then your animal would come out… the howling would begin… then you’ll see… believe me.
***
I demand a recount
The edge of the city. I stand here hesitating, not sure if I should go forwards or stay. I go, not looking back. I count my steps as I walk, remembering how the clouds came. I’ve seen it on the net. It was all over YouTube, cities falling, crumbling to dust until nothing was left. One by one, websites disappeared. Our connection to the outside world… I’m not sure there’s anything left, but I’m going to find out. I’m counting my steps. One, two, three, or is it four? I think I missed a few steps. I demand a recount.
***
The fencing master
I live by the sword. I crush my opponents like mosquitos, like bugs. I despise them. All of them. They have no class, no elegance. Look at them, clumsily trying to attack. I dance around them. I’m an artist. They are merely amateurs. There is this new guy. Here he comes. Can’t wait to show him the tip of my sword. Up close. Here we go. What’s that? How could he get away with that? I don’t believe it. That’s not fair. You cheated. I know you cheated. I’m going to prove it. You’ll be sorry. I demand a rematch.
***
Matzo tower
“What have you done to my tower?” asked the midget butler with the cigar in a horrified shriek. The robot, built from the remains of his sister Cee looked at him and smiled, showing two line of white teeth. The robot seemed to be missing one of her teeth. “What, don’t you like it?” she asked. “No, I don’t. It’s too mechanical. Please put it back the way you found it.” The mechanical Cee just smiled and said “Sorry, but we are all out of matzo.” With that, she pushed the midget butler back into oblivion, where he came from.
***
The end is near
Both kids stared at the last of the chicken wings. They knew the minute one of them raises his eyes, it’s the end of that chicken, so they continued staring at it with the intensity of laser beams gnawing a hole through a Klingon vessel. This continued for what seemed like hours, though it was probably more like five minutes. “Mike, Stuart,” the voice of their mother called all of a sudden. They lifted their eyes just for a second, but that was enough. When their eyes where back on the plate, the chicken wing was gone. Their father belched.

Planet Z

The condescending prick fencing master patted me on the back.
If he says “for a werewolf” I will tear his throat out.
I am tired of his patronizing tone.
Sure enough, he starts with “For a werewolf, fought well” and my claws
slash through his neck.
My parents locked me in this tower to keep the monster at bay, but they
gave me fencing and riding lessons in an attempt to civilize me.
I resist the urge to howl in victory. Instead, I count the coins from his
purse.
I count them again. Just enough to get me to Vienna.

Weekly Challenge #153 – Swimming in de Nile

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Fifty Three, 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… was…. um…
It’s Swimming in De Nile.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

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

Tom

Alma Sue Louise, that was her conformation name, was a deeply devoted catholic had that amazing logical off twitch which allowed her to believe in spite of all mounding evidence that her husband Leroy Michael Joseph was cheating on her with no less that her childhood friend Mary Margaret Xavier Sullivan.
“Girl” said her mother, “if you believe that man
of yours is faithful youall is treading water in Egypt.”
”
What Momma?”
“Yous is swimming in de Nile.”
“I don’t know how to swimming.”
“Lordie child
“I’m going to have to drop you
“in Jean-Paul Sartre end of de pool.”

Guy David

The young princess went skinny dipping in the river, when she spotted a small ark flouting on it. She fished it and found a crying baby inside. She got home and asked her father, The Pharaoh, if she could keep him. “Sure” her father said, “As long as you take him for walks. I don’t want him shitting all over my palace.” She thanked him and decided to name the baby. At first she thought of calling him Moses since in her language it meant “the one that got fished from the river”, but then she just called him Fiddo.

Caleb

While swimming in the nile
I met a crocodile
As our eyes met
Down the bank he swept
He gave me such a smile.
I thought then how I’d wish
I’d not had so much fish
Down in my guts
With wine and nuts
To make a croc’s stuffed dish
The croc began to swim
With vigor and with vim
On up to me
I tried to flee
And pleaded unto him
The croc said pleased to meet you
Now I’m not here to eat you
You won’t be gored
By the tourism board
I’m simply here to greet you

Lynda

In the summer of 1927 I was part of an expedition to uncover the lost temple of
Sobek-Ra, the crocodile god of Egypt. It was hot inside the tombs, but it was even
hotter outside. At the end of the day we’d wash the sand and sweat off in the
river, ignoring the warnings of the locals about what lay beneath the surface. I
was the only only one to survive.
I still hear the sound when I try to sleep. Those days were called the roaring
twenties for a reason, just not the reason anyone wants to admit.

Anima

“Momma Neith, is it October yet? I want a tasty tourist…”
“Sssh… No tears, Sobek. Big crocs don’t cry. Look! The feluccas are coming
down river. Be still… Go with the flow. Lower your head more… just nostrils
out of the water.”
“There’s one… the lady trailing her fingers in the water…”
“No, she’ll never go swimming and She looks too old anyway… keep on looking.
Let’s wait for a boat filled with young people. Listen for the loudest one.
Tourists rarely pay attention to anything floating quietly, plus, they find
the Egyptian sun so hot…”
“I am a log…”

Jeff

there are only so many things one person can do, no matter how hard
that person works. I was living proof of that. Here I was, I thought
I had it all under control. My wife was happy, my kids were happy, my
boss was happy. Heck most days I was pretty sure that I was happy.
Then we had to get the swimming pool, the pool was great the kids
loved it. Then came the lap machine, one that makes a current. The
all stood and laughed cranking, that was when I realized I was
swimming in de Nile.

Justin

When Discovery Channel scientists developed a camera that could see into
ancient times, current archeology became a thing of the past. The first
documentary, Egypt, broadcast live.
Many amazing discoveries were made about ancient Egypt. It was a very
nihilistic society. Activities at a bath proved that Chiropractic care
already existed. It was even discovered there was a sales team that sold
giant stones and involved higher ranked salesmen taking part of lower ranked
salesman’s earnings, it was the first pyramid scheme. The most amazing
discovery revealed that Pharaohs were buried with sweet lozenges to help
deal with their sarcophagus.

Norval Joe

Michael Phelps likes to do everything fast. Whether it is chopping vegetables, signing autographs or learning to speak Chinese, with Rosetta Stone.
On a flight to Europe the in-flight movie was Crocodile Dundee, and that gave him an idea. Redirecting his return flight through Egypt he went to the Nile to show Paul Hogan what he was made of. In his speedo, he jumped in to outswim the crocodiles.
His goal was to beat the records he set in the 2008 summer Olympics. Instead, in London, in 2012, he’ll be in the paralympics, competing as a double, below knee, amputee.

Houston Keys

You ask ME about swimming in de Nile?
I did it once, but only once. Leeches and creepy crawlies in my nether
regions convinced me to give it up. Besides camel dung and plagues and
all that other stuff takes away from the fun.
Sometimes de Nile isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I used to watch my
buddies swim, but some seasons all they could do was wallow in it as
there wasn’t enough crap to actually swim in.
Well, enough wool gathering about my own youthful indiscretions.
I prefer to let the president swim in it now.

Mike P

Deanna Nile had become a celebrity at age 17, when her first CD
dropped and sixth grade girls went nuts. Her parents hired bodyguards
to protect her from the loonies, but they had limits. When she snuck
off and met her dealer, her guards didn’t know where she was. Nobody
did, except for the dealer. And Harry, her “number one fan.” The
bodyguards found Deanna in the alley behind the club 15 minutes too
late, her blood pooling on the ground. Cockroaches were swarming, and
as it began to rain it seemed as if they were swimming in De Nile.

Planet Z

Once, long ago, Egypt boasted many rivers.
One by one, these rivers were picked up and hauled away by various conquerors.
Dragged before royal courts in chains, forced to bow before kings, used for sport and pleasure.
Louis the Sixteenth powered his fountains with The River Anubis.
Pretty soon, all that was left was the Nile.
Too valuable to lose, Nasser ordered the construction of the Aswan Dam for its protection.
It’s worked well. Until today.
Our team is ready and waiting in Sudan, and with one word, the trap will be unleashed.
So, President Mubarak, about that billion dollars?

Weekly challenge #152 – Wikipedia Wildcard!

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Fifty 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… was…. um…
It’s The Wikipedia Wildcard.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

I forgot Caleb in the first poll version, so votes are reset.
Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

Tom

Its a crate diggers Concerto, jazz pulled long and hard through a hip hop ringer washer. Looping breaks of Johnny Hammond, Morricone, Ellington and session men who smoked up the room with Coltrane, A Love Supreme. A mix of a man with a thousand names takeN one from a man of a thousand faces, Lord Quas. Otis Jackson Oxnard’s own Madlib DJ supreme. Its a blunt indulgent work without the hope of salvation but on its cover the Via Crucis, The Stabat Mater Dolorosa, thorn crowned hound, pluck chicken of god, and an Aunt Jemima Benedictine mocking the fourth Station.

Guy David

Plutonium trifluoride is not to be trifled with. Those violet crystals are investigated as a source of nuclear energy in some well known laboratories by respected scientists, but that’s not their real power. Mixed with the right ingredients using the right combinations of words whispered in exactly the right intonations, great things could be accomplished, sinister things too. Structures can be changed, tissue morphed into shapes. You see that little green monkey over there? That was my assistant. You better excel in your tasks here. I’ve got many of those violet crystals left, and I know how to use them.

Lynda

Hello and welcome to the 2009 Speedway Ekstraliga! It is jam-packed tonight! Poles from pole to pole have come to witness an exciting rematch between Atlas Wroclaw and
Lotos Gdansk! Neither team did very well last season, but they don’t that stop
them!
As they round the far turn–what’s this? Jason Crump has stood up on his motorbike
and is turning to drive directly into the path of the other riders!
He’s holding something…wait…it’s a sports drink! The other riders are grabbing
the bottles tossed by Crump. I seem to be watching an advertisement. The race
hasn’t started yet.

Michael S.

“Hello everyone and welcome to our annual bat convention.”
“The big topic this year is the newly discovered variety in the bat kingdom,
the “baseball bat”.”
“This is not your typical Gray, Indiana or Virginia big-eared bat.”
“It is found, for the most part, around the Louisville area.”
“As you can see in the slides it is a very muscular mammal as if it is on
steroids.”
“We invite you to swing by our area here in the front and throw as many
questions as possible at us.”
“Together we will build a knowledge base for our new friend the baseball bat.”

Justin

At Hoover Dam Dr. Hudson reached out with his energy-sense and saw the
ambient energy with second sight. Using ethereal fingers he grasped the
energy in handfuls, stuffing them into a pocket inside himself. He went as
fast as he could to win the Power Plant to Power Plant Worldwide
Teleportation Race. His destination was the Pyhäkoski hydro-electric power
plant in Muhos, Finland. He burst himself in to tiny particles and shot
them across the planet with sheer force of will. He reassembled himself atop
the power plant. “Hurrata” the crowds cheered. Dr. Hudson had finally
reached the Finnish line.

Caleb

Deus Meus
we need someone to pay us
cuz all we ever hoped to be
was students at St anthony’s
Deus Meus
Come and join the craze
We gotta get some kind of start
to get an educated heart
don’t wanna be no fool
in a public school
in the town of suffolk
all us kids are really fucked
unless we’re paying catholics
Deus Meus
We don’t mind the gays
if with priests we get defensive
our tuition’s more expensive
Deus Meus
we need someone to pay us
cuz all we ever hoped to be
was students at st anthony

Ashley

I’ve always loved making it on trains. But my favorite has to be the South Wind. That happy jaunt from Chicago to Miami was always the best. That’s where I lost my cherry. The wife and I later became charter members of the streamliners club back in 1953. Nothing says loving like making whoopee on a moving train. Our little group found the big O in more sleeping cars than I can count. We would have reconsummated our 50^th wedding anniversary aboard the South Wind, but the streamliner was renamed the Floridian. In the end, we used the dryer instead.
I’ve always loved making it on trains. The South Wind passenger train was definitely my favorite because it was my first. My wife and I joined the streamliners club shortly thereafter. As charter members there wasn’t a passenger train that was safe. Even though that was decades ago, we still get after it when the surviving members of the club can get together. Times change but thanks to Viagra the club still keeps it up. Now, where’s that damn train, it’s late. Whatever happened to following a schedule? I just took my last pill and time’s running out to perform.

Anima

Behind me are the Izubra cataracts. The Vlach, native to the Carpathian
basin, have protected these rugged, pristine waterways for thousands of
years; It is an ancient obligation for them.
The waterfalls of Serbia are portals to MiddleEarth, the land of the
dwarves. The Vlach owe their allegiance, repayment for assistance in
driving out invaders during the Roman conquest of this region. In exchange
for magical arms, they promised to protect the secret entrances hidden
behind these tumbling waters.
The latest intruders aren’t as tough as the Romans. Extreme kayakers’ double
paddles are pitiful when matched against a spiked halberd.

Norval Joe
http://www.withoutsanctuary.org

It looked like the entire town came out for the event. There was a carnival
atmosphere in the town square. People just like us gathered to view the lynching.
See, here’s the postcard. The black man raped a white girl; no one is sure who the
girl is, but there were plenty of white witnesses. There was a grim fascination as
they hauled him up and some commented and even laughed at how he thrashed about.
They mutilated his body afterwards. It didn’t seem right, what they did. But they
were good people who did it, people just like us.

Planet Z

She’s a pretty thing. Not pretty enough to strip anymore, but she had smarts enough to become a nurse.
I know she doesn’t love me. Who cares? My damn family hates her. A lot.
They should. If we get married, she gets everything.
Good.
Candlelight.
Wine.
The best sheets on my bed, the one I’ve been confined to for the last three years.
I pick up the ring. It’s gigantic. I hold it out.
And… that’s when… when…
The big one hits.
She screams, grabs the ring, and puts it on.
My damn family will get everything. Except that ring.

Which were the best stories this week?
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
	Daphne from http://www.daphneabernathy.com/
	Tom from http://footnote.libsyn.com/
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com/
	Platinum Lightning
	Mick from http://someotherscotland.blogspot.com/
	Ishtar from http://ishtarskiss.blogspot.com/
	Laurie from http://www.myspace.com/sufferingraven
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
	Lance from http://writingdad.livejournal.com/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com/
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best this week?
	Tom from http://footnote.libsyn.com/
	Lance from http://writingdad.livejournal.com/
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Terrence from http://www.mcleanweb.ca/neverwas
	Daphne from http://www.daphneabernathy.com/
	Laurie from http://www.myspace.com/sufferingraven
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com
	Craig from http://www.washthebowl.com/
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
	Mike P from http://mjpaxton.com/
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com/
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories this week?
	Michael S.
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Terrence from http://www.mcleanweb.ca/neverwas/
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com/
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Lance from http://twitter.com/writingdad
	Tom from http://footnote.libsyn.com/
	Ishtar from http://ishtarskiss.blogspot.com/
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
	Planet Z

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Which were the best stories this week?
	Planet Z
	D
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Sophie
	Michael S
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
	Lance from http://twitter.com/writingdad
	Elisson from http://elisson1.blogspot.com/
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com/
	Tom from http://footnote.libsyn.com
	Ishtar from http://ishtarskiss.blogspot.com/
	Manata from http://manata.net/
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Melissa

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Which were the best stories this week?
	Ted from http://whineandopine.blogspot.com/
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Tom from http://footnote.libsyn.com/
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Mike P from http://mjpaxton.com
	Anima from http://www.zabbadabba.com
	Michael S
	Sophie
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com/
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories this week?
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com/
	Fricker from http://www.thefrickerfrequency.com
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
	Houston Keys from http://tatertotsforthemasses.blogspot.com
	Michael P from http://mjpaxton.com/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Michael S
	Tom from http://footnote.libsyn.com/
	Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Elisson from http://elisson1.blogspot.com
	Sophie
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com
	Lance from http://writingdad.com/
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories this week?
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Houston Keys from http://tatertotsforthemasses.blogspot.com
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
	Tom from http://footnote.libsyn.com
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Daniel from http://dannymachal.com
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories this week?
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
	Mike P from http://mjpaxton.com
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
	Michael S
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Tom from http://footnote.libsyn.com
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Planet Z

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Which were the best stories from Weekly Challenge #153?
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
	Guy from http://guydavid.com/
	Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com/
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com
	Justin from http://thespaceturtle.com
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Houston Keys from http://tatertotsforthemasses.blogspot.com
	Mike from http://mjpaxton.com
	Planet Z

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Weekly Challenge #152 – who had the best stories?
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
	Guy from http://guydavid.com/
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com/
	Michael S.
	Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com/
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
	Ashley Story #1
	Ashley Story #2
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Planet Z

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