Category: Weekly Challenge

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Fifty 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 What would Gandhi do?.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #151?
	Lance from http://writingdad.livejournal.com
	Ishtar
	Ashley
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com/
	Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Elisson from http://elisson1.blogspot.com
	Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com
	Daniel from http://dannymachal.com
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Ishtar

The release of dreams is a powerful thing.
In her sleep she can see the truth before her eyes. Light
is sweeter, the air is cleaner. She is free. Able to live the life
she should have been. The body she should have felt.
It always starts like this. Though the night joy has become real.
But it has to end. The Darkness Begins.
She is standing on an edge. Real life takes her back.
Never can she be real. Her body screams. Eyes awaken to her
true form. Male or Female or Both.
Is she Transgender or something more.

Lance

I’ve tried to live my life according to the dictates of the prophet, but it’s a different world than the one he grew up in and I sometimes wonder what he’d make of it. Between the rogue AIs, the gengineered plagues, and the hairdressers’ militia, pacifism has had a rough go in the last few years.
But I have tried. I’ve tried very hard.
Still, when the horde of mutant zombies came shambling through my normally quiet neighbourhood this morning, I opened fire along with everyone else. Non-violent? Well, not exactly, but what do you think Ghandi would have done?

Ashley

Randy asked, “Would Gandhi do this?”
“Who the hell’s that,” responded Jerry?
“He was this wise religious leader in India.”
“Well, he’s not here now. Even if he was, he could still bite my ass. I don’t care, I’m doin it.”
Jerry leapt atop the cab of the truck and began surfing as they barreled down the dirt road leaving behind a huge dust storm. Suddenly, the driver slammed on the brakes and over the hood went Jerry head first.
Everyone in the truck roared with laughter.
“Unless Gandhi drank alot, I know he wouldn’t have done that, “howled Randy.

Guy David

I named my monkey Gandhi because of his habit of turning the other cheek. Other monkeys would charge at him, attack him but he would just stand there smiling his little monkey smile, holding his hand out to them. Eventually, they just tore him to pieces. I still miss the little fellow. Sometimes, when things go crazy at work, I think to myself “What would my little Gandhi do?”, then I remember how he ended up and I just eliminate my fellow hairless white monkeys. I use presentations and flow charts, but it amounts to the same. No one survives.

Caleb

There were puppets of puppies on the parapet
Where the two toucan armies boldly met
And the general said aloud
Through a cotton candy cloud
Upon the fury of his forces, he was sure to bet.
Freely flying down there came a cockatoo
Whose flapping fluttered feathers all were painted blue
He asked those lousy leaders what would Ghandi do
The avians abated while the moon arose
And peacefully they pondered what Ghandi would’ve chose
And as the last blue light of day blissfully floated away
Those warring tribes, they did decide, to fight each other anyway.
Toucans are schmucks.9

Lynda

I love Ben Kingsley SO much. He made me appreciate that Gandhi guy and what he did for the world and all. I mean, I learned more about Gandhi from that movie than I ever learned in whatever that class was I took with Chelsea, back when we were first learning to text.
Ben Kingsley had me arrested after I jumped out of his shower to ask why he had all those men shooting at Robert Redford in Sneakers when Robert Redford just wants to save the arctic.
I’m not mad, though, I think Gandhi wouldn’t be mad, I guess.

Anima

What would Gandhi do, if he came face to face with a dragon, armed only with a boy scout manual and a piñata costume?
Please so kind as to light the fire for our tea.
There should be twigs, I know, but all I have is this book.
Do you like it? The colours are a bit gaudy, but my dhoti is at the cleaners. And I had nothing else to wear.
My opinion of the British? Their behaviour to both dragons and Indians is loutish.
Struck a nerve, have I? It appears you have set the woods on fire.

Elisson

He had lived for years as an ascetic, simultaneously carving out a place for himself in history as a politician-philosopher, proponent of Satyagraha.
Satyagraha. It was oxymoronic, this concept of nonviolent resistance. Oxymoronic but effective. The British Raj was finished.
He fingered his homespun loincloth, deep in contemplation. Is this how I want to be remembered? A wizened little man in a fucking diaper? What about my dream of being in a Bollywood musical? I can cut a rug with the best of ’em… even if it’s an Oriental rug!
Two weeks later, the Gandhi Dancers made their historic debut.

Norval Joe

The president of the United Federation of Callisto watched the invading fleet from Ganymede landing their ships on the fragile surface of his moon. They were here to enslave more of his people; unwary farmers in the upper tunnels were the likely victims. Their common ancestors came from Earth 500 million years ago; libraries deep within Callisto’s tunnel system held records of their histories. Ganymede must not know of Earth’s ancient social reforms; or not care. Soon, he must make a decision; continued non-violent civil disobedience or military retaliation. He re-read the launch protocol to initiate an inter-moon nuclear assault.
How about…It oozed down…

Tom

A Russian professor, a Hindi businessman, and an American politician walk into a bar. Each has paid a inordinate amount of cash for an artifact belonging to their hero to compete in a high stakes competition. The bartender turns to the Russian asks “What would Lenin do?” The professor takes out the pen writes out a manifesto.” The bartender turns to the Hindi asks “What would Gandhi do?” The businessman places spectacles on this noses and gets his Satyagraha on. Suddenly the American appears a bit worried. “What’s with Dick Cheney?” asks the Hindi. “Oh he’s got George Washington’s catheter.”

Justin

Greg sat in the bunker. His real name was Ghandi. He hated having that name. Let’s see the real Ghandi passively resist the onslaught of robots and their flailing … an idea struck.
Resistors were installed on the power grid. Human devices didn’t draw anywhere as much energy as the robots did, and the robots range is limited by the energy grid. Surgical strikes made regions of blackouts surrounding the human bases. The robots were lured by the powered bases, but going through the blackouts drained them. The resistors prevented them recharging. That’s when the resistance became anything but passive.

Daniel

I hate it when they write checks for the littlest things. I would gladly pay with my own cash if it got this damn line moving. You know the type. Eighty year old woman who buys chewing gum on Super Bowl Sunday an hour before kick off, always has the audacity to write a fucking check. This broad is probably going to break her hip in the parking lot, what does she care about Doublemint Wrigleys? Even Gandhi would lay her out cold. One good bash to the head with her own cane should do it. The only difference between Gandhi, and me? I wouldn’t kick my own ass after.

Planet Z

Yus! The question was never “What would Gandhi Do?” but instead “What wouldn’t Gandhi do?”
I have movie reels in my closet the Crown took when they were assassinating that saw-ed off rabblerouser’s character.
He was a hero to millions and his name, golden, but boy did he like to use his bullwhip.
Elephants never forgot Gandhi. Watch them back away… priceless!
That woman right there? My grandmother. She was such a hottie!
The stories are true that he made his own clothes.
Ever seen a handspun cotton gimp costume?
We’ll watch Reel 17 tonight and you’ll see for yourself.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Fifty, 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 Just let me touch it….
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories from Weekly Challenge #150?
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Ashley
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com
	Almo
	Michael
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com
	Norval from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com/
	Sougent from http://sladventures.sougent.com/
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Tom
Swahili -English Dictionary

The light chocolate horizon was broken by a rather tall Acacia. The sun rose brightly over the savanna, over the Acacias. It was here Ymoja Nzambi stood gazing at the bloody work of her brother Ogun. He dropped the impala with a single blow. A hunter at last he thought. “Tu utakodi mimi shika swala!” implored Ymoja. Ogun ignore her until he heard her draw her knife. “Shaka” whispered Ymoja. “Nya” cursed Ogun” Tomba …. Vikuto.” enda mbio enda bullet ama pigano?” inquired Ymoja. “Panda mti.” And up the Acacia they scrabbled. They watched sadly as Vikuto consumed the Swala.

Anima

You know how they say you should trust your inner voice? What do you do when it mutters foreign gibberish?
¡Ai caramba! Dejame tocarlo…
I ransack my brain for the dregs of my college Spanish to figure out what I am saying.
Just let me touch it…
Worse, we start to argue…
No, that’s not a good idea…
¡Por qué no?! ¡Eres tan miedoso! Scardeypants!
That did it. I reach out my hand… touching the bushy caterpillar of Frida Kahlo’s eyebrow. Immediately it transforms into a vivid blue butterfly and flutters away.
Damn, that’s good Mescal. Self, pour another round!

Guy David

“But… can you do it?” I asked, eyeing his suspiciously. I never liked those federal types. I always suspected them of being oblivious of the consequences. “Nothing to it” said the man in the black overcoat. I checked my watch. It was nearly time now. “Just let me touch it one last time” I asked. “Sure” he said, “Just don’t break it.” The Pterospondylus egg lay before me. I touched it gently, then they took it and rolled it into the incubator. As I watched the egg in the incubator, I envisioned a future where flying dinosaurs grace our skies.

Ashley

The car swerved violently to miss the animal. No such luck. Both mother and daughter went to have a look.
“Mommy is it dead? Can I touch it pleeeaaasssseee,” begged the little girl?
“No. Just look at that thing, all grey and scaly. We don’t know where it’s been.”
Suddenly a bright beam knocked them both unconscious. A large and small alien exited a spaceship hissing back and forth.
Translation:
“May I examine with tactile function? Or procure one,” queried the small alien?
“Negative. Return to the vessel. They will recover shortly. I must decontaminate your sibling prior to retrieval.”

Jeff

“Alright I need a full report, what happened here.”
“Well sir, I am not quite sure, but the basics.”
“Just tell me what happened private, the world is in ruins and it started in this room.”
“Well sir, there was this little kid.”
“A little kid?”
“Yeah she was running around and asking about everything.”
“A little kid? Here?”
“Bring your child to work day. Well she just kept saying she just wanted to touch the button. We didn’t think it would do anything since you have to push both.”
“Didn’t you read the memo about the safeties being removed?”

Almo

God gave Adam and Eve the guided tour of the Garden of Eden. “Look,” God said, “the ground rules are simple. Eat anything you want, all you want without guilt, except for the stuff on this tree.”
God pointed at the Tree of Knowledge. Adam and Eve’s eyes got big.
“Hey, listen up,” God said, raising his voice. “Even the chimps can follow this rule.”
“Just let me touch it,” Adam said, and he began to move his finger closer and closer to the forbidden fruit.
“Adam, don’t be a putz,” God said, and smacked Adam’s hand away. He saw this would not be good.

Michael

“If you just let me touch it and hold it I know I can make it smaller and it won’t be hard any more.”
She acts like she knows everything.
She pulls this little prank every time there’s a crowd.
To hell with her – I’ll go along one more time.
I reach down into my cup and grab the biggest one I can find.
But I ask you, what’s so damned magical about holding an ice cube until it melts?

Lynda

“Just let me touch it,” you said.
“It’s so cute,” you said.
“I’ll be really careful,” you said.
Back in my day, bombs had fierce shit painted on them. Tigers, sharks, naked broads, things with teeth! We could insult the bastards we were gonna kill, none of this cutesy pastel non-threatening shit like big-eyed bunnies and daisies. “Have a nice afterlife!”
Can’t have menacing looking instruments of doom these days.
A bomb’s a bomb, Jenkins. Triggers and wires and death. Totally non-huggable.
I hope you’re happy.
Oh that’s right, you’re fried to a crisp.
Where the hell is my leg?

Norval

Approaching the shop, he knew that the object was inside. Its power drew him, and he knew, once inside, his time was limited. He greeted the shopkeeper behind the workbench.
“You have a device; small, green, with runic script across it?”
Surprised, he answered “Yes” and produced it from a cabinet.
“May I hold it?” he asked.
“It’s been in my family for centuries,” the shopkeeper replied, hesitating.
“Just let me touch it,” He nearly screamed in desperation.
Stepping back, the shopkeeper cowered.
He knew that he had lost his one chance as he felt his body becoming less substantial

Justin

“Please, can I touch it, just once?”
Timmy’s father shook his head gravely.
“It must’nt ever be opened. To avoid temptation, you mustn’t touch it.”
Timmy kept staring.
“Pay it no mind. We must guard it, but we needn’t stare at it.”
His father slept. Timmy stared at it, then touched it.
Open me!
The voice was so beautiful he couldn’t resist it. He flipped the lid off of the Pandoraingles cylinder. A hollow echo sounded as potato crisps of burdensome labor, ill, and disease escaped.
His father awoke.
“What have you done! Once you pop, the evil don’t stop!”

Sougent

Can I touch it? Huh? Can I, can I? Huh? Can I?
Please let me touch it, I wanna touch it. Can I, can I? Please?
You never let me touch it, I wanna touch it. Can I touch it?
Pleeeese let me touch it.
I just wanna touch it once, please, please, please, can I touch it?
I don’t like you, you’re mean, you never let me touch it. All I
wanna do is touch it.
I won’t hurt it, please let me touch it.
But Willie, you ain’t got no hands.
Just let me touch it…….pleeeeeese.

Planet Z

Slip the surly bonds of Earth, President Reagan said, and touch the face of God.
That was my father up there, the whole world watching him die.
It has taken me years, but I am ready to go to space, to ascend to the heavens and touch that face.
Can I touch it? Will I reach where my father before me failed?
Or will my own son watch my demise among the clouds, luring him into the sky as my father did to me?
Just let me touch it, and wipe away that final tear forever.
From my own face.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Forty-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 Mothballs.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #149?
	Danny from http://dannymachal.com
	Lynda from http://sisterpepperspray.blogspot.com
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com/
	Norval Joe
	Ashley
	Justin from http://www.thespaceturtle.com
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
	Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Danny

Ricky the mouse had light brown fur and oversized pink ears, he hated
them, but his wife found them adorable.
He would scurry about during the night, gathering scraps of food, and
bits of cloth for his wife and two baby daughters. They lived behind
the clothes dryer, it wasn’t much, but it was home.
Ricky also had an adventurous side to him, and while exploring the
attic, he came across a dead moth next to a delicious trinket of
cake.
He took the cake back home, where the mouse family feasted on the
funny smelling and tasting morsel.
“Hey Jim, how is your mouse problem?” Steve asked.
“They’re gone man, it is like they up and died.”

Lynda

The apple falls from my hand as the familiar smell brings it all back to me,
Stewie Norton fumbling with my blouse in the dark, the pawing of his grandmother’s cat at the door.
Nearly given away by the meows of a tabby.
I pick my fruit up off the floor of aisle seven with one last glance at the box of mothballs next to the Yahrtzeit candles under the mop display and turn away from my dark, dirty past.
Things were so much simpler then, no courtship, just a quickie in the closet.
Young love behind old men’s suits.

Guy David

The old man smelled of naphthalin. I could smell him all the way to where I was standing. I lighted a cigarette and moved towards him. He wrinkled his nose at me and pointed at the sign. “No smoking here” he said. I shrugged, puffed a cloud of smoke at him. At this he started couching and sneezing. Snot came out his nose. I lighted him with my cigarette lighter. As his overcoat dissolved by the fire I could see many naphthalin mothballs dissolving in his pockets. “So, that’s where the smell was coming from” I said through his screams.

Norval Joe

In South Africa in 1927 a political cartoon appeared in the news papers showing the ghost of a serviceman walking across the the waves of a beach, and on the beach a soldiers tin helmet with a bullet hole in it with the word forgetfulness underneath. The picture was titled, ‘The Tin Hat’. The country was moved to create an organization to remember and support veterans and their families and formed, ‘The Memorable Order of Tin Hats.’ The buildings where they held their monthly meetings became known as M.O.T.H. Halls. Their annual gala events with music and dance, MOTH Balls.

Ashley

President elect Ronald Reagan awoke abruptly arose from bed and quickly dressed in robe and slippers. Upon entering his personal office, he sat and picked up the telephone.
“Please connect me with Navy Secretary John Lehmann. Thank you,” said the president waiting patiently.
“John,” began President Reagan, “I apologize for calling so early. I may have an idea for the cold war problem. I agree that the navy must be built up. Let’s start by recommissioning and retrofitting the Iowa class destroyers. Yes, they’re currently mothballed. Listen carefully John, start gathering support. We’re about to spend some serious taxpayer money.”

Justin

I found an interesting Asian book in my grandparents attic. My grandmother is full-blooded Japanese, my grandfather married her after World War II. She brought many things when she moved to America. When I was young she taught me Japanese.
I’m walking in a circle under a bare lightbulb, reading. I can’t seem to move away, even though the light is too harsh.
As I examine the pages, realization comes.
It claims that if you eat an animal’s testicles, you will gain its powers.
I chew on an old sweater and wish I had read that before eating those mothballs.

Anima

Thor sweetie….
Here’s your list of honey-do’s: The screens need to be taken down at
Bilskirner, and doesn’t your hammer Mjollnir have autoreturn on it? It
is still by the front door where you tossed it when you came in. And ,
please, please put out some mothballs around the garden. I read in the
Godesses Home Journal that the naphthalene has some effect against
snakes. Maybe then we will be rid of Jormungand. The humans are
complaining he is putting a squeeze on Midgard…
Ja, you betcha, Sif. I’ll get right on that…
Doesn’t she know it’s Ragnarok this weekend?

Tom

My Aunts in-laws owned the apartment building she lived. Her family lived on the second floor. His parents lived on the first floor. Everything in my aunt’s apartment was ultramodern, Scandinavian design, color TV, the works. The Dulles’s apartment was like stepping into a time machine. Bathtub with feet, lace doilies on Reichsdeputationshauptschluss upholstering, tintypes and the most confusing antiquity “mothballs” “Yahh” said Augie ” Dayst coom from the real big moths.” Lizzie slapped Augie and muttered something is Swabian. She also had to slap my brother Lenny in the head to dislodge one he popped in his mouth.

Caleb

Frank got into the funeral business because he loved cock. Murder or grave robbing was too weird even for him but nobody requests a bottomless open casket, so he could eat as much cock as he could harvest.
As he cut the pants off a young suicide he was shocked to see the boy was a eunuch. There was plenty of mouth-watering man meat but no scrotum. As frank wiped his mouth he realized. The boy hadn’t jumped off the roof to kill himself, he was drawn inexorably to fly toward the full moon by his little teensy moth-balls.
Freak.

Planet Z

Cast aside for videogames and action figures, Raggedy Ann and Andy gave up on society.
They sealed themselves in Ziploc bags filled with mothballs, determined to sleep through this modern technological obsession.
After a thousand years, the seal on the bag broke, and Andy was yanked out of his plastic cocoon.
He opened his button eyes to see:
A dirty hand.
A ragged child.
A face, covered with scars and scabs.
Giggling. Laughter.
Would he be treasured? Loved?
Andy’s cotton heart sank as the child threw him to his dog.
His shredded body would lie in pieces among Ann’s tatters.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Forty-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 Gladiolas.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #148?
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
	Daniel from http://dannymachal.com>
	Serge
	Almo
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com/
	Ashley
	Michael S.
	Eva Moon from http://evamoon.net/
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Jeff Hite from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
	Norval Joe from http://www.novalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Mike P. from http://mjpaxton.com
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Tom

Mrs. Patterson escorted Mary Todd once more through the garden they had planted at Bellevue Place. “Do write me when the Gladiolas are in bloom.” said Mrs. Lincoln. “Assuredly, Mrs. Lincoln and the plans for the plant food are still your wishes?” Mrs. Lincoln spit on the ground and whispered Robert’s name. As her carriage roll out the gate on that Autumn day she mused how uneventful that Sept 11th morning felt. Years late when Robert’s coffin lid was closed, he was not within but being carted away to Bellevue in a wheel barrel. Robert would make the Gladiolas bloom.

Daniel

Hosokawa got eye level with his foe and moved closer to take in the evil essence.
His weapon poised to run through the foul being, he closed his eyes.
Hosokawa breathed in deep. “Ahh, I can smell your fear, my enemy.”
“You shiver and quake at your impending doom.”
“Be at peace, for I will give you the honor a mortal adversary deserves.”
The swift blow of a trained Samurai master was designed for one thing, ending life.
He hoisted the weed out of his flower bed and into his pail.
Even Samurai gardeners keep their skills battle ready.

Serge

She would always get buckets of exotic flowers but he gave her just one.
“Gladiola’s?” She snorted surprised, but unimpressed. “Old ladies’ flowers.”
He had dissapeared from her life but she had kept the flower. It was a
present she had learnt to appreciate with age. Now old, but still alone, she
sat in her kitchen and looked at the only true companion in her life – the
flower. Its palette of colours as fresh as ever, unchanged. Now… it truly
was an old lady’s flower.

Almo

The father looked down at his wife in the hospital bed as she cradled the
newborn daughter. “Don’t do it,” he admonished. “She will always hate you
for it.” But his wife was determined and the baby was named “Gladiolas
Messmer.”
Twenty years passed.
At Harvard’s graduation, their daughter accepted her degrees in physics and
mathematics.Gladiolas came offstage and hugged her handsome boyfriend.
She looked at her parents and said, “I have always hated you because of my
name.”
The father turned to his wife and said, “See?”
“Nick and I are getting married,” the girl said.” I am going to be Gladiolas
Heimendinger.”

Anima

Welcome to Hexalia’s Exotics!
I need a special arrangement…
Yes? What mood do you want? Is it business? Here is a lovely formal design.
Lost love reunited perhaps? Pink roses are perfect…
Friends tell me you deal in emotional blooms…
Certainly! Currently I have spears of Gladiolas, Madilolas, and Egadiolas.
Anything more dark or sinister? It’s for the rehearsal dinner of my ex and her new trophy partner…
Might I suggest a centerpiece of Callow Lilies, Shunflowers and Penury Blossums…
with sprigs of Purple Violence at each place setting… bouquets to end any relationship in 90 days or less, guaranteed.

Guy David

A sword lily at my door step. Note says “all shell be avenged”. Going about my business. An accountant by trade, taking care of costumer finance, lost in a world of numbers. Always lost in numbers. Staying up late. Sound of the door opening. Looking up. Young Ophelia at the door, in one hand a sword lily, at the other a sword. A quick step, sword piercing my heart. “Two makes a glow. Three breaks the balance” she says. I remember her body crushing into the river. Close my eyes. “I shell be back” I mutter under my last breath.

Ashley

“Hey Hank, guess what Eric just got his old lady for Valentines Day,
“said Randy.
“What, “ answered Hank?
“He said glad Iolaus!”
“What the hell, “choked Hank swallowing chewing tobacco juice?
“You know, Iolaus, from Hercules, the TV show with the big-boobed
chicks. I asked what a TV show character being happy has to do with
Valentines Day.”
“Well, what’d he say,” asked Hank?
“He just shook his head and walked off, that dumb redneck. Man, if I
ever get that ignorant, put a bullet in me, will ya,” asked Randy?
“No problem,” said Hank spitting on the ground.

Michael S.

OK. I gave into my wife always wanting me to learn to dance.
I now know how to waltz, bunnyhop, cha-cha and jitterbug. I’ve even learned
the hardest one of them all. The ola.
That dance has the steps of all the others all rolled into one.
It makes my wife so very happy. I heard her tell her mother the other day,
“I’m so glad he olas.”

Eva Moon

Alma stared at the floral arrangement he’d sent, awed by his mastery
of the symbolic language of flowers. The messages were clear:
gardenias for secret love, gladiolas for love at first sight, ivy for
fidelity, yellow roses for perfect love and peonies for wedded bliss.
It was a proposal in petals! Her eyes misted and her hand trembled as
she dialed the phone to tell him yes, yes, yes.
Earlier, at the florist:
“Nice choice. Special occasion?”
“Nah. There’s a big golf tournament the weekend of her sister’s
wedding. I need to soften her up before I drop the bomb.”

Justin

The cute little lamb chewed on the blood gladiola that had been planted by
an occult member of the ‘Save The Fluffy Animals Foundation.’ As it
swallowed the crimson petals, its eyes glazed to a solid black and single
strands of wool turned scarlet. The lamb raised its head to the sky and let
forth a dread bleat that rent a fluffy white cloud asunder. It entered the
farmhouse.
Finding the clippers, it wielded them in bloodshot tendrils of wool.
From inside the house came cries that fractured the calm silence of the
meadow, screams of the farmer’s sheared terror.

Jeffrey

It wasn’t every day a hero was woken up from suspended animation.
Then, today was not just any day, it would be the trail for all
humanity. They would be found guilty of course, how else could the
aliens plan to take the planet away.
“Are you ready for this Kildorn?”
“Was created for this.”
“Do you remember the plan?”
“Go in disrupt the trial and kill the head judge.”
“Right just go in and chop his head off then everyone will realize we
can beat them.”
“But did we have to name them Gladiolas, I feel like a gardner.”

Norval Joe

The teenage boy didn’t care that he trampled the old woman’s gladiolus; prize
winning plants that she had spent years, even decades, propagating.
Hers was the only house in the neighborhood, as yet, untagged by the street gang.
One hand held the waist of his baggy pants, the other hand shook the can of spray
paint.
In his excitement he didn’t notice the tingling of his legs. Sudden shocking pain
wracked him as vines tore into the flesh of his legs. The plants rose up and pulled
him to the earth.
By morning the ground was smooth, the flowerbed undisturbed.

Mike P.

Batman hung against the wall, bound by a thorned vine.
“Did you know that many plants reproduce sexually?” Poison Ivy teased.
“They have male parts,” she ran her fingers across his chest, “and
female parts.” She turned and walked away, hips swaying suggestively.
“Insects pick up pollen from male parts, and then rub against the
fertile female parts.”
Batman knew he had to stay focused. He began cataloging the plants in
the room. Nightshade. Caladium. Hemlock. Foxglove. Gladiolas. Aloe.
“Enh, screw it.” Ivy laid a poisoned kiss on Batman. He noticed a wall
of Lipstick Vine, and then passed out.

Planet Z

His latest experiment gone awry, Voltmaster called for the healer.
Her apprentice, nothing more than a shambling green robe, examined the wounded electromage. She took notes, rapidly communicating with a broken shard of mirror.
“Healer Twelvetrees commands a tea of mint and gladiolas,” she said. “Drink what you can fresh, and pour the rest on the burns.”
The Voltmaster agreed and paid the healer with a spool of precious copper wire.
“An antiseptic,” she said. “Nice craftsmanship.”
She loaded it on to her butterfly chariot, snapped her bony fingers, and rose slowly from the ancient castle.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Forty-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 Running With The Cool Kids.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which stories were the best of Weekly Challenge #147?
	Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com/
	Daily Panic from http://adayonorbedge.blogspot.com/
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Daphne from http://daphneandtamara.libsyn.com/
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Ashley
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Terrence from http://www.mcleanweb.ca/neverwas
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Mike P. from http://mjpaxton.com
	Michael S.
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Caleb

In my rural high school the cool kids were all Jesus freaks but I couldn’t stop from asking, “if Jesus wanted to get his message to mankind, why’d it take hundreds of years to reach western Europe and another thousand to reach the new world? The cool kids just told me to shut it.
But when Shiva, The Destroyer, came to Monroe High wielding swords of flame to mow down the nonbelievers; I found myself running for my life with the cool kids.
Down to the Burger Shack. Gotta have one last bacon double cheeseburger before converting to Hinduism. OM

Daily Panic

In the fifth grade, he smoked cigarettes. He was the first guy to date a girl. All of his friends were cool; hanging with them just happened. We all rode our bicycles together in the neighborhood. By the eighth grade, the cool kids had older siblings that had driver’s license. From riding bikes to riding in cars, the cool kids went places. Boundaries pushed. We all felt bigger than life, rules or guidance.
Today grown up, those cool kids are still cool. We are parents, policemen, fire fighters, film makers, school teachers, coaches, and fifth grade smoker became a mayor.

Justin

When I was too young to remember, my parents took me to Nepal. A goat-herder found me wrapped in blankets, my parents outside the tent, dead from sickness. He took me in and raised me as his own. I was about seven when the village was slaughtered by raiders. I nearly died from exposure in the Himalayas, where I had fled when the village was ignited. I was rescued by a yeti. I was treated like an outcast for a while by the other yeti children, but before long I was playing with them like I was one of them.

Daphne

Susan spent the summer making herself over. She saved up enough money and got a new clothes, shoes and make-up. She spent her evenings trying on outfits until she got it just right. The first day of school was coming and she was ready for it. Well almost ready. Due to a freak storm it was 25 degrees and very icy on that day. Susan didn’t care she was wearing her outfit as is, no coat, no boots. The bus stop was cold and icy. She learned running with the cool kids can lead to frostbite and sprained ankles.

Guy David

I had to join the party, I mean, let’s face it… they had the best ice suits around. Their agenda didn’t matter. What mattered was their beautiful blue skins, the rolling popsicle hairs of the candidates. I just wanted to be one of them. I went through the ritual acceptance ceremony, then I was in, fitted with my very own shiny ice suit. I was in, then we got elected.
Later that year, after the country was ruined by the war I decided to drop my membership. The red devils where the new cool kids, so I joined them instead.

Ashley

“If you want to keep running with the cool kids, you’ll stop thinking and just throw it,” said Jake.
I closed my eyes and heaved, then ran for my life with the rest. Glancing back, I saw Jessica covered in eggs and weeping.
About twenty years later I looked her up to tell her I was sorry and that I didn’t deserve her forgiveness.
She responded by offering compassion and, after awhile, her heart.
In high school I treated Jessica with scorn. If the fates allow, I will happily spend the rest of my life treating her like a queen.

Norval Joe

I was in high school in the late 70’s.
We had all the normal cliques; jocks, rah-rahs, burn outs, geeks, band freaks, drama fags, born agains, and student government.
There was some crossover; jocks in student government, burn outs in drama, and lots of geeks in the band. Whether you felt you were running with the cool kids or not, was mostly your own psychology.
There was one girl, named Janine, that was always alone; in class, at lunch and walking home.
I regret that I was too absorbed in my own psychology to make her welcome in our crowd.

Terrence

They all line up at the starting line. The boy stands in the first lane, ready for the gun to fire.
Bang!
The boy takes off, his legs pumping, ignoring the crashing and snapping sounds behind him as the finish line gets closer with each stride. His heart beats heavy and his shoes pound down into the ground. Sweat rolls down his face as he breaks the tape. Raising his arms in victory the boy yells out a cheer.
“I win!”
Looking back he sees the broken stick arms and snapped carrot noses. No snowman will ever out run him.

Tom

Jimmy was buck naked. He had just moved to Juno so badly wanted to fit in he was willing to join in the 1000 yard dash in the snow. Unfortunately for Jimmy and the other cool kids it was also the local wolf pack’s Run For Hungry 500 yard dash. The scene was like a arctic San Fermín. Fur and flesh snow and blood. Jimmy would have made it to the safety of the gym if only he had been able to get around Sarah Palin. Seem she’s a better shot from a plane then the ground. Too bad Jimmy.

Anima

Abe was stumped.
The Ball was his invitation into “polite society”, and he wanted to make a good first impression. Growing up in rural Kentucky, Abe had never “run with the cool kids”. Here it was Thursday, and he still hadn’t decided on a date for the weekend.
There was saucy Rebecca Stevens, with her fiery wit, or social Mary Todd, with a sweet temperament and a rich daddy.
Scratching the stubble on his chin, Abe reached into his pocket, pulled out a penny, and flicked it in the air.
“Heads it’s Mary, Tails, ‘Becca,” he said, smirking to himself.

Mike P.

In any social circle, you have to start at the bottom and work your
way up. It’s no different with the cool kids.
You have to start out working the water stops. For a while, you’re
doing nothing but filling cups with water and Gatorade.
After a year or so, you’re allowed to jog along with them and wipe
sweat off their foreheads.
Two or three years of that, and they’ll let you help them quick-change
into fresh running shorts (preventing chafing is key).
At that point, you’re no more than a decade from running with the cool kids.

Michael S.

I’ve always been a jogger and since I sweat in a snowball fight it stands to reason I’ve always been a sweater.
The older I get the more I sweat but I’ve noticed this young crowd doesn’t sweat a drop.
How do they do that?
I also noticed they invite me to jog with them.
It makes them look good and makes me look like I’m the only one really working on the task at hand.
Me ……….. I call it running with the cool kids.

Planet Z

Valentine’s Day in the embryo vault, buried below what’s left of the Antarctic frost.
There are nine redundant monitoring systems. When all nine find a fault, it is repaired. When one finds a fault or fails to find a fault with the others, it is repaired by the engineering robots.
We put these systems on a combination of solar and wind power. It runs on its own, keeping the children of the future cyrogenically protected from what their ancestors are doing to the present.
But in true short-sighted fashion, we have yet to build the revival and automated nanny systems.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Forty-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 Animal Cruelty.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #146?
	Sherry from http://www.sherrydramsey.com/
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Justin http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Jeffrey from Http://greathites.blogspot.com
	Hedgie
	Serge
	Ashley
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com
	Michael S.
	Michael P.
	Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com/
	Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Terrence from http://www.mcleanweb.ca/neverwas
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Sherry

Someone warned them.
By the time we arrived, the perpetrators had fled, leaving those poor
creatures behind. You couldn’t call them pets. Victims, maybe. Experiments.
We opened the cages, coaxed the survivors out. They were cold, shivering.
We wrapped them in blankets and led them to the waiting vans.
A female watched me with eyes that were not quite ready to trust. “Will you
catch them?” she whispered.
I shrugged. “They’re sly. If they don’t want to be caught…”
She stared into the passing forest, wondering, perhaps, if her torturers
watched from the shadows. “I hate cats.”

Tom

In 1979 I was going through a nasty divorce. Having a great deal of aggression and time on my hands I started hanging out in a “d&d” pub next to the university. At the F Bandersnatch pub they played a version of the game laid out by members of the Society For Creative Anachronism. Three nights a week I’d hack and slash assorted monsters into the wee hours of the night. The DM was rather fond of hybrid beasts call ducks. The story goes they were either humans cursed with feathers or birds cursed with intell- igence. Talk about animal cruelty.

Guy David

The forest whispered to Anna. She crawled dipper into the closet. The
forest creatures where coming for her, and she knew they where going
to skin her alive, then tear her apart limb by limb. She was
terrified, but she was also prepared. She clutched the little device
the strange man of the forest gave her and activated it. The closet
started to spin around her, became a blur, then it disappeared
altogether. She was no longer there. The forest creatures would have
to feed on some other poor soul today. She thanked the spirit of
human ingenuity for teleports.

Justin

While filming the Brazilian Drought, a wild dog attacked my wheelchair bound brother. Before it ripped out his throat, I killed it with a shovel. A spying environmentalist became outraged. Security removed him. Later, he took a shot at me while I was birdwatching alone near the São Francisco River. While chasing me, he cut his leg. I saw them just under the surface of a shallow section of a creek. I climbed a tree and tossed my binoculars across the water. He waded in, thinking I’d crossed. The blood enticed the hungry piranhas, which took most of his leg.

Jeff

Mad Scientists get a bad wrap for many things. Bringing down bridges, thwarting the hopes of some goodie-two-shoes want-a-be hero. But mostly we get blamed when anything goes wrong. Well I for one am not getting blamed this time. I am not going down for this one. Some fool over at the palace decided it would be a good idea not to let any of the slaves go, and now there are frog and gnats and locust everywhere. Talk about cruelty to animals, what are those things supposed to eat. I tell you it’s like someone brought down the wrath of God.

Hedgie

Andy awoke, hungover, and walked toward the kitchen. The coffee can was
empty. He dressed, deciding on a Starbucks run, went to the front door and
turned the knob. It wouldn’t open. A noise was outside. Voices without
words. The windows were covered with wood. What the hell was going on
here? Andy looked up in a panic. Metal bars replaced his roof. The clouds
were dark promising rain. He also noticed something else. Hundreds of eyes
peered down on him. Bodies and faces covered with fur, feathers and scales
stared and pointed at the human in his natural habitat.

Serge

The eyes, unblinking and unfocused, stared at him from beneath the
transparent crust. Its last flight had been cut abruptly short by a simple
lifeless stone. The boy did not find the bird until next morning. It had
fallen into the pond just a meter away from the shore. Curious, he touched
the frozen wing sticking out from underneath the ice – a strange and
unfamiliar feeling grew inside him. At home he smashed the sling into the
wall in silent anger and cried. He would go back many times until the spring
thaw, when the bird was no longer there.

Ashley

Back when I was in high school, I used to trap. Yes, we’re talking
double spring steel traps for small fur-bearing animals, raccoons and
nutria mostly. When I left for Army basic training, I stopped trapping.
When I returned and entered college, I found that I no longer had the
urge to run a trap line. Nothing against trappers, but I remember just
too many toes left in sprung traps. There is no doubt animals suffer
when caught in a leg trap. Though I still enjoy looking at tracks on the
creek, trapping no longer holds any appeal for me.

Anima

Canines and Felines of the jury:
Ignore your emotions. Only weigh the evidence when deciding about William
Wegman.
Consider how he tortured Man and Fay Ray for years, isolating them from
their pack,
anthropomorphing them… robbing them of their canine dignity.
Wegman exploited the Rays from early puppyhood to their last days,
expecting, no, DEMANDING obedience. He dressed them for his perverted
pleasures, and profited from his dogsploitation!
You’ve seen the photos – hundreds of them. Recall the haunted looks, the
humiliating postures, the demoralization of these once proud dogs.…
Let justice be served – Find Wegman guilty of Gross Animal Cruelty!

Michael S.

I drag my human along when we go for a walk.
I bark at the empty closet and my human gets scared and jumps up to
investigate.
I lift my leg and mark my territory when my human visits a friend.
I chase the garbage truck and the mailman with total disregard for my human
begging me to stop.
Sure it’s a bit mean, maybe even spiteful but I don’t think we should call
it animal cruelty. That’s a bit too strong if you ask me.

Mike P.

Jeanine the Badger stepped to the edge of the platform. “Residents of
the forest! Witness what we do today! The Kingfisher beyond the river
has sentenced Brian the Squirrel to be beheaded for the following
crimes: Theft. Kidnapping. Impersonating a representative of the
crown.”
Brian smirked. His favorites were coming up.
“Willful disobedience of gravity. And selling fruit and nuts without a
license.” Jeanine nodded at the hooded executioner. The cobra
attempted to lift the axe, but was unable to actually grasp it. He
looked helplessly at Jeanine. She growled.
Animal cruelty is often prevented by lack of opposable thumbs.

Caleb

if you go out in the woods today
You’re in for a big surprise.
If you go out in the woods today
You’d better go in disguise.
For every bear there ever was
Will gather for certain, because
Today’s the day the teddy bears go ethnic cleansing.
battle time for teddy bears,
Those horrid teddy bears are having a bloody time today.
Killing Feeding unawares,
see them murder ing each other for holiday.
See them ripping eyeballs out.
They love to scream and shout.
And eat the other bears.
then there’s no more teddy bears
Because they all are dead

Norval Joe

There was tension in the break room. Finally, Tom spoke, ” I realize there is public
concern about animal cruelty, but I have a job to do. It’s Disney’s fault! He
animated animals and gave them human emotion. Now everyone expects dogs and mice to
think and feel like people.
“First, we can’t have alcohol on the job. Then they take away tobacco and ethnic
stereotypes. Well, let the script writers figure out how to eliminate violence and
still have a show.”
Tom stood. Jerry and Spike just rolled their eyes as they followed him back to the
sound stage.

Terence

One would think than having read the good book you would know what was going
to happen, but Raoul knew better. After all he had been written out;
however, not even Raoul had expected the end to come in the form of a pink
monkey.
‘You came.’ Death turned his horse towards Raoul.
“I’m still one of the five horsemen.” There were however only four of them
on horseback. “What happened to your horse?”
“They took him away. They did not understand that I’m famine; people have a
certain expectation of my horse. They however said it was animal cruelty.”

Planet Z

Octopus are intelligent creatures.
They are also quite delicious.
Some people don’t like it when intelligent creatures are used for food, so that’s why I developed “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Octopus.”
It has all the flavor and texture of octopus without the guilt of eating an intelligent creature.
Instead, we use a blend of puppies, kittens, and other natural ingredients to achieve a consistent and realistic octopus experience..
To get the puppies and kittens the right texture, we have to mash them alive with concrete blocks..
They’re cute, sure, but not intelligent. Kinda dumb, really.
And quite delicious.

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Forty-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 Concrete Shoes.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

What were your favorite stories in the Weekly Challenge this week?
	Michael
	Sherry from http://www.sherrydramsey.com/
	Serge
	Sophie
	Ashley
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com/
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Norval Joe from http://www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Terrence from http://www.mcleanweb.ca/neverwas
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Michael

I spiral downward as my depression sweeps through my body.
My arms are heavy as if weary of carrying the entire burden of my thoughts.
My legs feel as if they are lifting concrete shoes with each step I take.
I look around me from corner to corner, floor to ceiling as my mind searches for an alternative to the conclusion I’ve reached.
I grow tired of the argument within my head as I reach for resolution.
Finally, relief consumes my being.

Sherry

Every spaceport has its own version of the mob.
The expensive suit had skin like a warthog, but he looked over my webbed fingers and gill-flaps like I had a revolting disease. I could see him thinking “gene-mod freak” but he still loaned me the credits.
And I bet the wrong side and lost them.
So when the cheap suits with big muscles came looking for me, I couldn’t run far. Blow to the head, length of rope, and I woke up at the bottom of the reservoir.
But yeah, I woke up. Gill-flaps. Best gene-mod investment I ever made.

Serge

All she does is shop, he thought, mixing the cement. And nag.
Alex, I need more money to buy this or that.
Alex, I need a new handbag; none of the other 78 match my new cocktail dress.
Sick of it, he did something no man should ever do.
Never give a woman your credit card: she will run you dry.
He couldn’t believe she maxed out his Platinum Express in two hours! TWO HOURS!
Alex, I need new shoes, she said today.
Well, honey, I got you something with a perfect snug fit that will last you a lifetime.

Sophie

I sit at a local bar, waiting for a stranger.
This happens so often I know the outcome by heart.
He’s just outside.
Ring removed, he enters and notices me alone.
After a few drinks and small talk, he excuses himself and looks back, wondering if I’ll still be here when he returns… I will be.
As we leave together he chuckles and asks me what my name is…again. I smile to hide my irritation and say “Sally”.
He doesn’t know that this little liaison will cost him his life…cement shoes in the nearest lake, courtesy of his wife.

Ashley

“So where’s the money you borrowed?” asked the old man.
“You tryin to make me look like a clown?
“How bout I fill some really big clown shoes with concrete, then stick your feet in. Then I drop you in a nice deep river wearing those concrete shoes. Then who look like a clown, eh?”
The kid slapped a twenty into the old man’s hand. “Jeez dad, here’s the money. What’s with all the drama?”
Then she flashed him a smile radiant as sunshine, snatched the money back and prissed right out the door.
Smiling, the old man said, “typical.”

Guy

They where perfectly shaped. They knew they would fit him perfectly. The three friends nodded silently. They would have to wait for night time to secure them to his tiny, pixelated feet. Soon they found him snoring, face down on his typewriter, sleeping soundly. He didn’t wake up when they slipped them on his feet. They took his little boat for a spin and tossed him overboard. He sinked down in the murky waters. “That’s one sound sleeper” said the woman’s cockatoo in laughter. The Podmafia took the boat back ashore and left Mariner at bottom of the Edloe river.

Justin

No Louis, those aren’t concrete shoes, we are a lot more sophisticated in the twenty-fourth and a half century. I put neutronium shoes on those late paying feet of yours. They are extremely heavy, but, you can’t tell yet because that airlock is fitted with an anti-gravity generator. You will be able to though when I press this little button and you get sucked out into space. The extreme gravity of the shoes will crush you! Wait, what are you doing! Don’t turn off the anti-gravity generator!
For eternity, Vinnie knew what it was like to be in Louis’s shoes.

Norval Joe

Two huge men stood in the doorway of the shoe repair shop.
“Joey, Tony, whadaya talking about? You know me, I’m your uncle. I’m just an old shoemaker,” the elderly man plead.
“We have a glue; comes from Germany called Renia multicolle. We have another one, called superset; its an ugly yellow color. The one shoemakers like to use most is call ‘Barge Cement’. I can custom make you some shoes, and I can even cement the soles on, but if you want cement shoes, you gotta talk to somebody else.”
“Give your mother my love.”
“Sheesh, kids these days.”

Terrence

His brother stood, his arms stretched out, “What do you think?”
“I am surprised you have not lost your head,” Raoul rubbed his forehead slowly, “again.”
“You think I need a matching coat?” Raoul shook his head, “A hat then?”
“Where did you get the idea?”
“What? I’ve seen a lot of people wearing them. It’s the latest fashion”
“They were all dead, right?”
“At the bottom of the river, how did you know?”
“You do not think the shoes had something to do with it?”
“I’m not stupid.” Death replied. “They really should have been more careful around water.”

Anima

Some say Italians make the best shoes: supple leather loafers, spiky fashion heels, sturdy Alp summitting boots. I despise concrete shoes…
I prefer abstract footwear, known as shoeness in certain circles. My favorite designer, Lincoln Haddock, conceives shoeness that allows toes to express their individual “phalangeness”. He sees them as splatter-colored chaotic motion ideas for feet. I’ve never seen my Haddock’s, but they go with positively everything, and are always a perfect fit. They feel like walking on the beach, without the grit.
Waiter, can I please order now?
What do you mean, “No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service?”

Tom

The Palermo and Sons shingle had hung in the Near Northside neighbor since 1888. Purveyors of fine shoes for a discrete circle of businessmen using a Roman process over 2000 years old. The delicate detaining and classic lines no one who ever stepped into a Palermo shoe ever voiced a complaint. In 1902 Joe Palermo started adding a Portland product to stiffen up the instep. Traditionally the shoes were placed in a white oak barrel lined with straw in the 1930s the barrel was replaced with the now ubiquitous 55 gallon drum proudly baring the Palermo motto: Somnus Cum Piscis

Planet Z

Welcome to the Palace.
That statue of Queen Margaret The Easily Pissed Off consists of 50 tons of steel and 300 tons of concrete. It took 4 years to complete, fabricated off-site and assembled in blocks.
Even though only her upper half is visible, the statue is actually complete. Below ground her body extends, all the way to her royal footwear.
The stairs down to that level are being repaired, the target of an antiroyalist bombing. So, instead, we will proceed to Queen Margaret’s corpse gardens.
Perhaps you will recognize some of the newer residents – those antiroyalist bombers, for instance.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Forty-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 Chicken Nuggets
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Weekly Challenge #144 – Chicken Nuggets
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Johnnie B.
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Michael
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com/
	Caleb from http://blacktiemartiniclub.com/
	Guy David from http://guydavid.com
	Ashley
	Almo
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com
	Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Anima

Marge drummed her fingers impatiently, leaving greasy splotches on the table, but Marlon wouldn’t be rushed. Her tell was so obvious.
The illicit card game at the Big House Spa happens right after visitation… while the sacks are still hot.
If Marlon played his hand right, he might still turn his fast food Mexican into a decent meal.
Typically the game was small fries, but tonight… Al had ponied up big steaks… Everybody was salivating…
Marlon visualized Lady Luck passing the salt;
“I’ll see your chicken nuggets, and raise you a chalupa… Yeah, baby! Super size me!

Johnnie B.

Tiny, long things are gripping me, wrapping around me with intensity. I”m hot, I”m delicious! I go down into the red abyss, under, and back up. I think of the pleasure I am about to give.
I see the dark opening with a long pink thing inside it. As the pink thing loops itself around me I am immersed in something wet. This is what I was made for! I am sucked in and find myself being torn apart, bit by bit. This is my destiny……..I am the first chicken nugget in little Timmy”s lunch today!

Justin

I sought great wealth by traveling the Feather Trail. Many died in the California Gallus Rush, and for a reason no greater than greed. Boom towns sprung up drawing thousands of people. I prospected with the best of them, and the worst of them. Prospectors killed each other for a single chicken nugget found while panning. Miners died in deep caves searching for cracked eggs. When the Bird Flu struck, entire towns vanished overnight, the inhabitants leaving broken and destitute. I played my cards carefully and am still wealthy, my California Dream Poultry Restaurant’s are doing very well.

Michael

“There are things we must all be concerned with,” spoke the rooster with his cocky attitude.
“I call these my little chicken nuggets of wisdom.”
“It would behoove all of you to store them under your comb.”
The hens in both wings of the barnyard grew attentive as the cock crowed on.
It was so quiet you could hear a feather drop.
“Beware the shadow of big birds.”
“Take flight at the sight of an ax.”
“Finally, remember the white part in our droppings is still chickenshit. Don’t eat it.”

Tom

Lot people thought Einstein was pretty smart. What ya didn’t know was he got a lot of his best ideas from Ralph. Yes Ralph was full of chicken nuggets of wisdom. Einstein took that chicken everywhere On the bus he’d clucked faster faster which as we know led to the theory of special relativity. In fact it was Ralph who managed to scratch in the dirt the secrete name of god, which is stamp on the outer ball of all nuclear devices to initiation critical mass. Niels Bohr was never able to convince Ralph of the merits of scientific determinism.

Caleb

Love is strange. I suppose I don’t have to tell you that but it’s true. So are computers. Tried that computer dating one time. Hooked me up with a woman who could only achieve sexual gratification while listening to Beethoven’s Ode To Joy, which is weird because I can only get off listening to Wagner’s Ride of the Valkyries. They matched us because we loved German composers so much I guess. We lived together for 14 years, drove all the neighbors crazy with our cacophony of love. She’s gone now. Choked on a chicken nugget, music’s all I have left.

Guy

He was going to get all serious about his writing. He knew he could do it, even if it was only a 100 words story. He knew he could pull this off. Nothing could stand in the way of a decisive, dedicated writer. He rubbed his hands together and smiled in satisfaction. It was time to get to work and write. He opened his web browser and checked out this week’s topic. He stared at the screen for a few seconds. Chicken Nuggets. The topic glared back at him, shaking it’s head and laughing. “Thank you, Norval Joe,” he mattered.

Ashley

Tory and Tasha were waiting when Brian translated back into the contextual time-frame of 2357.
“This trip was unauthorized,” said Tory.
Brian held out a bag and said, “I tried these on an earlier mission. They’re organic, not the reconstituted goo we’re forced to eat.”
Both removed a piece and popped them into their mouths.
A look of wonder overcame each as they chewed.
“They’re called chicken nuggets,” said Brian.
Tory and Tasha said together, “We’re going back.”
Brian watched as his coworkers translated back to 2009, equipped with awesome technology at their disposal and chicken nuggets on their minds.

Almo

A smaller version of the Geneva convention was held outside Arthur Miller Middle School on a Thursday afternoon. It was a brief affair — the buses were coming and no one wanted to have to call his parents to tell them he missed the bus.
“Jujubes?” Jimmy asked.
“In,” said Tommy. “You get like a gazillion of them in a box and you can keep them for weeks.”
The others agreed.
“Chicken Nuggets?” Sarah asked, looking over Jimmy’s shoulder at his checklist.
“Out,” was the resounding chorus.
“They leave grease spots,” Tommy said.
The rules laid down, the date set, the middle school food fight was on.

Jeffrey

The sun belched forth all it’s furry. Sending tons of solar material into space, hurtling toward the Earth. In only a couple of hours the face of the third planet from the sun would feel it’s wrath.
The charged particles raced along, power transmission lines frying everything in there way. The Sad thing was that redundant systems that make the power grid safer on any other day, had cause black outs to ten times the area than normal. The burned out power systems stopped everything from the chicken Nugget fryers to the water pumps so you can flush your toilet.

Norval Joe

My name is Desmond.
I’m four years old and I look like a normal kid.
I have autism.
People say I have beautiful eyes.
My favorite things to do are; run, jump, climb stairs and make lots of noise.
I like to eat chicken nuggets, dinosaur shapes, Triceratops, longnecks, and petri.
I was three years old before I could say 100 different words.
Sometimes when I scream or have a fit at the grocery store, people look at me like I
am being bad. I’m not bad, just loud. Please have patience.
My family loves me.
I love them too.

Planet Z

It’s Eighteen Forty-nine.
Gold fever, they called it.
Every inch of river was panned, every corner of the mountain dug up and sifted through.
You went to sleep, dreaming of that golden nugget the size of your fist.
You wake up, and your pickaxe and gloves are gone.
Maybe your boots, too.
Even if you do strike gold, it doesn’t go far.
Every provisioner charges crazy prices for everything.
Eggs don’t make themselves, and the man with the chickens is the one with the real gold mine.
All us out here in the dirt and outdoors, killing each other.
Fools.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Forty-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 Tidal Wave
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #143?
	Norval Joe from http://norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com/
	Michael
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
	Ashley
	Anima from http://zabbadabba.com/
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Guy David from http://www.guydavid.com
	Almo
	Mike P. from http://mjpaxton.com/
	Ben
	David
	Martin
	Misty
	Fred
	Robert
	Alan
	Carolyn
	Arthur
	Jeffrey from http://greathites.blogspot.com/
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

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Norval Joe

he stalker followed his prey across the university campus, keeping enough distance behind her to avoid detection. She was young and slender and he ached to hold her in his arms, to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze the life from her.
He had followed her before and knew her schedule, her routine. Tuesday and Thursday nights, her class would begin in daylight, but would be fully dark when it let out.
A tidal wave of urgency washed over him. Crouching, ready to attack, he saw her, alone, unaware, last to leave Phys Ed 203, advanced kick boxing.

Michael

You walk in.
They suit you up.
There’s all kinds of wires and buttons and lights.
The countdown starts and before you know it ………….
Well, I can only describe it as a virtual tidal wave of pleasure.
I tell you it’s the best government project yet and my wife loves it now that I quit chasing her all the time.
Problem is their stats for a man my age say only 2.6 times a week.
Damn!!
But hey, I’ll take it – whatever they’ll give me.

Tom

Edgar was a Platonic Physicist. If the ocean could product tidal waves, why couldn’t local causality product a time tsunami. Edgar figured a Neutrino event horizon would do the trick. He reverse engineered the dry cleaning tank process by setting up tiny collectors in every dry cleaning business on the planet. After 15 years Edgar located the most likely place the Tsunami would occur The sandstone building on Fourth and Drucker. With thoughts of Nobles dancing through his head artifacts in the tsunami’s wake squarely opened up his head, Edgar was done-in by a Rubik’s cube and a pet rock.

Ashley

As usual, young Poseidon entered the Olympus school bus like a tidal wave, literally.
“Get to a seat, “spat the now wet driver, Lachesis the fate.
First was Aphrodite, Goddess of love, frowning with mascara smeared.
Next was Apollo, sun God, pointing a poison arrow as Poseidon passed grinning with teeth the color of sea foam.
Then past Hephaestus, God of fire, smoldering and smoking.
No young God made room for Poseidon to sit.
Hermes, God of eloquence, stood suddenly and spake, “Go to the back of the bus. You smell of fish.”
Dionysus, God of wine, hiccuped in agreement.

Anima

I stood in the library, consoling Aunt Lois. Uncle Nemo’s legs jutted from beneath the toppled bookcase.
“Poor Nemo, he always had a distant look, like he was scanning the horizon for giant squid. He was fascinated with the ocean, even though he never left Colorado. It made him a little nutty, to be drydocked by mountains; all he dreamed about was sailing the seven seas. This library was filled with charts and tales of pirates, ships and nautical adventure.
Do you think the coroner might be so kind as to put down the cause of death as Title Wave?”

Justin

When the giant wave hit the city, a few crazy surfers rode it through the streets. I’m more crazy, I rode it under the streets. I set my board in the sludge and waited for the wave. I heard it first, crashing through the sewer tunnels. When it hit, I rode it, going from side to side to avoid crashing. I avoided pipes and gratings sometimes by inches. The rush was amazing. It became the best ride ever when four Turtles showed up surfing right beside me. No villains around, the only shredders were us shredding the wave. Cowabunga dudes!

Guy David

The waters where gradually rising. I watched as the tide started licking the shore greedily. A tidal wave was rising in me. It has been rising for a while now, giving me a stream of sleepless nights. I took out the pills and started swallowing them one by one, then I waited. I waited for a very long time. Nothing happened.
Later, when I got home, I checked out the label on the packet of pills. It turned out they where manufactured using all natural ingredients. Braving the tide, now I have reached dry land. Went all naturalistic after that.

Almo

Roger swiveled in his chair when he heard the satisfying kerplunk of new e-mail. He enjoyed the sound of the water droplet.
This time it was even better because it was an answer to his advertisement “Will fix any computer for $20.” There was another drop, then another. Roger’s smile faded as trickle of responses increased in volume and frequency.
His little ad had been blogged, Dug, Tweeted and Retweeted
The e-mail kerplunks became a tidal wave. The noise was deafening.
Roger scrambled furiously to quiet the din, but sadly he didn’t how to turn off the sound.

Mike P.

You thought your website was doing fine. You set up hosting, and installed WordPress. Even researched and set up amazing SEO. Then you went on vacation. While you were away, Penny Arcade linked to your site. By then, there was nothing you could do. When you got back from Costa Rica, the first place you went was your server room. You opened the door, a tidal wave of page views flowed out into the hallway, and you spent an hour mopping up the squirming creatures. You knew that the server was dead, turned into a nest for the hive.

Ben Clarke

“What is that?”
“what?”
“Up in the sky.”
“Oh my goodness it looks like a whale.”
“A whale? in the air?”
“Yeah, these young people and their improbability drives.”
“Improbability huh? Well what are we going to do about that whale?”
“Hmm, not much we can do. It is going to fall in that lake over there.”
“But don’t whales live i the ocean?”
“Don’t worry.”
“Why not?”
“It won’t survive the fall, worry about the tidal wave.”

David Tomes

“Ok guys we need to get organized here.”
“What are we trying to accomplish here?”
“You forgotten already? Look we need to all rush forward at the same time.”
“But why?”
“Come on we talked about this, we are trying to take over the world.”
“How we going to do that, we are just krill?”
“That’s why we have to get organized.”
“What are we going to do?”
“We are all going to swim toward Washington DC at the same time and create a tidal wave an wipe’em out.”
“Ok lets go.”
They never saw the whale that swallowed them whole.

Martin Joyce

“This will be the final message from our civilization. It is important that someone know we where here and what we accomplished in our time. Our lives have been spent building thie beautiful world, that our children will never be able to enjoy, after the disaster that is about to befall us. Our scientists saw the disaster coming only a short while ago and told us all to prepare for it. Our world’s about to wiped out. Oh the humanity, tidal wave!”
“Ow that water is hot,” Tom said pulling his big toe back out of the tub.

Misty Fritz

Mortally wounded, and heart sick from the betrayal, King Arthur made is way to the sacred lake. There he’d return the sword from whence it came, and hopefully gain access to Avalon that he might sleep until he was called for again. Nothing disturbed the lake’s surface as he neared. Looking down the goddess saw all of this and more. She watched his life, and failings and knew the price that it has exacted on her. If she did this her vision would be obscured for some time.
“Merlin, what’s that?”
“Surf’s up your highness, tidal wave!”

Fred Hickman

The tidal wave of human bodies rushed forward and there was nothing they could do.
When the sparks began to fly from the stage everyone gasped in anticipation of a pyrotechnic light show. When the fire works lept from the stage to the gutiar, to the gutairist arm everyone realized it was no show. The screams flowed before the bodies but only because the bodies were heavier. All of the bodies moved as one, rising and falling with the pitch of the wailing guitar.
“See Garth, look at this mess. I told you we shouldn’t do the flaming shirt trick.”

Robert Metsker

“We are a document Imaging company right?”
“Yes, Jack, we are why do you ask?”
“Well it just seems rather odd to me that we’d sell this wonderful software that takes digital images of paperwork and turns them into data to be stored a way on some server but we would have a room like this.”
“What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? Have you looked around you? I mean look at this. I can’t reach the top of this stack.”
“Don’t touch that.”
“What? Why?”
“Because it’d be bad.”
“Whatever.” he said leaning against the stack.
“Tidal Wave!”

Alan Marker

Laurence and Alan worked feverishly to stem the tide of cases that were coming in. Three techs had called in sick leaving only skeleton crew. They joked between calls about The Day That Sysadmins Ruled the World, but It had been a murderous day, and they worked like mad men, but the calls kept coming in.
“Geeze you would think that this was harder than it really is.”
“Right, I think every wacko whoever used their CD-ROM as a cup holder is calling today.”
“Maybe we should just plug the plug.”
“Won’t help, as they say you can’t stop stupid.”

Carolyn Westburg

“I told you to brush the dog.”
“I did.”
“Come on, there is no way this all came from today.”
“I Brushed him, that is my story and I’m sticking to it.”
“That is so typical, a guy that lies and then won’t admit to it. I mean here we are with indisputable evidence, and you won’t even admit that you are wrong.”
“I wouldn’t call it indisputable. A few dog hairs laying around.”
“You call this a few?”
“Ok more than a few.”
“We are floating in a tidal wave of dog hair and you call it a few.”

Arthur Kline

When the giant comet hit the Earth, it caused tidal waves that wiped out coastal cities all around the pacific rim. But, that was only the beginning of the devastation that it caused. The water and air around the site were vaporized and broken into it’s component elements, causing massive explosions, which cascaded to more and more. Resulting in the largest nuclear explosions ever on the face of the planet. Half of what was left of the atmosphere was blown off in to space. Even the dinosaurs could not survive such colossal devastation. I wonder if we, with our wonderful technology will be able to.

Jeffrey

Tom Tossed the gauntlet last week with the stats. Laurence took the gloves off when he laughed at Tom’s stats only having 6 stories. It was a sad day to be sure, when the 100 word stories didn’t even cover my commute time. Ashley was the impetus for the tidal wave to new authors with his tpoic. Since I don’t know any other authors I wrote 10 stories this week. Got a number of people to record for me, and just tossed all to Tom’s stats in the toilet. Giggle giggle snort. I think I cheated on this one. Thanks everyone!

Planet Z

Coming back from the pub’s bathroom, I recited the rhyme:
If it’s brown, flush it down.
If it’s yellow, stay mellow.
“What do you do if it’s green, glows, and has tentacles?” I asked.
The bartender raised an eyebrow.
In a corner booth, Professor Nightshade put down his pipe. He pulled out his Pocket Necronomicon and showed me the page for Shuggoth.
“Evil,” he growled. “We must kill it.”
Two hours later, a tidal wave of shit rolled over South London, driven by an multidimensional explosion.

Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Forty-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 a combination of: Double Dipping
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Which were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #142?
	Ashley
	Guy from http://guydavid.com/
	Tom from http://midi.libsyn.com
	Anima Zabaleta from http://http.zabbadabba.com/
	Justin from http://www.thebeandom.com/spaceturtle
	Norval Joe from www.norvalsoutlook.blogspot.com
	Planet Z
Free polls from Pollhost.com

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

---

Ashley

“Happy birthday Mr. Thomas,” said Little Johnny.
Mr. Thomas said, “thank you Johnny,” as he opened the bag of chocolate goodies.
“The smaller ones are peanuts, the bigger ones brownie bits. I made the brownies and double dipped each in chocolate myself.”
Mr. Thomas smiled as he popped a brownie bit into his mouth. The smile gone, he swallowed hard, coughing mightily.
“You’re welcome, Mr. Thomas,” said Little Johnny as he headed back to his seat. All the other kids in the class watched with awe.
They already knew, the brownie bits were really deer pellets. A legend was born.

Guy David

You have to double dip it. Once is not enough. Once won’t get you the texture, the finesse. It has to be dipped twice, then it has be be rolled over three times and wrapped around that other part five times. The topping comes next. That has to circle the whole thing ten times. Circle it eleven times and you destroy the balance. Circle it nine times, and the taste is ruined. When it’s done, don’t just eat it. Savor it. Treasure it. Enjoy every tiny bite, every twinkle of taste. Enjoy it for what it is – your life giver.

Tom

Timmy the typewriting monkey was double dipping. He had an exclusive contract with Crap Publishing Houston TX. But unknown to the firm Timmy had sold a story to Ben and Jerry Press, which was being serialized in Vanity Fair. The story was entitled: Our American Cousin. In the final installment the old rail splitter having been mortally wounding by the villain TollBooth in a mix of fever and lust rips open the bodice of his morning wife thus exposing twin scoops of Mary Todd just as Abe expires. Crap Publishing has taken legal acts, but at present is spanking their monkey.

Anima

Howard has incredible luck; so much, you’d think he’s double dipped in it.
Spying twenty dollars on the ground, Howard stooped to pick it up; his hand
was crushed by the scuffed leather shoe of Brad Pitt.
Mind if I take that? I have a family to support.
When he was stranded on the highway, Prof. Ado Bayero, king of the Nigerian
scams, stopped to help. Howard got arrested as an accomplice when Vice
pulled up.
Don’t even ask about his dates.
Is Howard’s luck changing? Today he found a four-leaf clover; there were no
falling anvils to been seen…

Justin

This weird scientist reunion is ok. It’s good to see some of my old friends
and all, but some can be such plonkers! Bloody Time Traveler over there, he
keeps jumping back in time to steal all the snacks. He’s a real git. And
there, Captain Nemo, he’s playing with a little toy sub in the punch bowl,
what a sod! Oh, yes, there, Doctor Jekyll, as if he haven’t all seen the
‘now I’m Jekyll, now I’m Hyde, trick.Bugger. Oi, look there! Willy just
double dipped a candy cane into the chocolate fondue fountain. He’s such a
Wonka!

Norval Joe

He had heard of double dipped chocolates, Sienfields’ double dipper faux pas, and
even a double dipper recession. He had never imagined double dipped hosiery.
Dilbert Doublet, a particle engineer, hadn’t worn a matched pair of socks in forty
years.
Dilbert took long, hollow, nano fibers and immersed them, twice, in a polarized
ionic solution. When woven into the fabric of cloth the fibers could be given ionic
signatures.
Dilbert Doublets Double Dipped nano socks, activated by heat from the dryer, will
magnetically find their mates to come out as a matched pair.
Coming soon to a store near you.

Planet Z

Poisoning apples for Halloween is a lost art.
Not only do you dip them in the poison twice, but you need to let the first coating of poison dry before applying the second.
Nobody gives out apples anymore.
It’s all pre-packaged candy these days. Cheap and simple, no fuss.
Still, every now and then, I’ll buy an apple from the grocery store, work my magic on it, and put it back.
My son wants to follow in my footsteps, but he does it with lemons and oranges
That just poisons the outer peel.
Oh well. Maybe one day he’ll learn.