Weekly Challenge – Page 85 – The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Weekly Challenge #112 – Whiskey

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Twelve, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Elisson, and we went with Whiskey.
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):

ARMINASX

Whiskey was not a great online player, but good enough. I’d beaten him several times. Well, once. I guess he’s better than I want to admit.
I had to figure out this mysterious guy, since I can’t stand a silent player who wins. That’s right, Whiskey never uses voice when playing.
So I played him often. One day I caught him with his mic on. But all I heard was scratching, wimpers and an occasional “woof”.
And that’s when I realized who Whiskey really was. You know what they say: “on the Internet, no one knows you’re a dog!”

SPARROW

She watched the golden liquid splash over the ice and breathed in the heady
scent of whiskey. Her thirst ignited with a power that surprised her.
She meant to sip slowly and savor this drink, but when it touched her
tongue, she could not help but swallow greedily until the ice fell against
her lips with the last of the liquor. And though she swore she would not,
she reached for the bottle and poured again.
As she drank, tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. I never meant to, she
thought, but it feels so good.
She was only thirteen.

MICHELLE

“Rode hard and put up wet.”
She heard it very clearly, chose to ignore. What good would come of confrontation? “Hell,” she thinks to herself with a chuckle “that weekend in New Orleans, 85, rode hard and put up was exactly what we were, and damn proud of it.” Her smile fades with the expression of remembrance, that was a long time ago, so long ago.
Years of the chase made her somber, not sober, somber yes. Head in hands now, red dreadlocks brushing the table, sagging bosom heaving with sobs. Another smoke, another shot, another night. Whiskey & me.

POND

“Another”
The whiskey glass slammed on the bar in the best cheesy western fashion, predictably anguished eyes peering out from under the lank, dank, hank falling in front of them.
The bartender looked up and refilled the glass, smearing stray drops with this week’s rag. His lips parted, the tip of his tongue heavy with the obligatory question. Thirty years behind this bar made the reply to that word a reflex; an occupational hazard.
Thirty years of tales of woe, of the betrayals of brothers, of failures and mistakes, of stolen sweethearts. He soaked each one up like a sponge; his heart long ago filled, the misery of his customers seeping into his muscles and into his bones.
He was full, saturated.
A second glass joined the first and he filled them both. He sighed before washing the question from his tongue, and the silence was broken only but the sound of the glasses on the bar.
And another.

This wasn’t his first go round. He knew that sensation where you feel the whole world spinning while you and you alone hold fast. A roar in your ears that starts loud and gets louder. White noise. White knuckles. White Lightning memories. None of them good.
His stomach heaved up, but there was nothing in it. As empty as his head, they’d all said.
He wasn’t a man who learned from his mistakes. Like Father, like Son, they’d all said.
His fall was swift and painful.
He shouldn’t have tried to ride the Colt called Whiskey. Sired by White Lightning.

GUY DAVID

Old Mama Chirapa died of old age. The Chirapa live a very long life by human standards, though The Chirapa themselves, don’t view this as something out of the ordinary. Chaketo Chirapa, her son, inherited leadership, as is the way of The Chirapa. He had to abandon the computer networking project, but he never forgot it. He kept his own computer and scanned the internet for a way to earn the trust of The Humans. Leadership was taking most of his time, and they where running out of gold for their machines, though they discovered whiskey was just as good.

ELISSON

The old bottle had lain in the alley for” who knows how long? For years, it had managed to escape the attentions of neighborhood dogs, children on bicycles, skateboarders, and other passersby. But when Wino Willie saw the glint of glass peeping out from beneath a mound of trash, his first thought was, “Booze!”
Willie grabbed the heavy, filth-encrusted bottle. He rubbed it on a threadbare sleeve”
“and amidst a cloud of smoke, out popped the Ty-D-Bowl Man!
“It”s been thirty years,” Ty-D explained. “I was looking for a toilet and fell into a whiskey bottle. Been there ever since.”

TOM

I met Angus in the 80s. He told me about this movie where a ship full of whiskey runs aground on this island. Well the inhabitants grab the bottles and hide them everywhere. The movie was call “Tight Little Island.” When the film made it to France they changed the title to Whiskey A GO GO French ain”t got a clue what tight means. Some Parisian nightclub owner thinks the name is way cool starts to open these discoth”ques called Whisky a Go Go. Well Americans think discoth”que pretty cool open a Whiskey A GO GO in LA. They got these dancers in cages called GO GO dancers and of course they got go go boots which are in fact the boots Nancy Sinatra is sing about In the these boot are made for walking. Well it seem the night Frank Sinatra is dyeing Nancy sneaks off to watch the last episode of Seinfeld and the chairman croaks. By the way “Nancy with the Laughing Eyes” was written for her on her fourth birthday by Phil Silvers the guy who played Sergeant Bilko. Same night Frank dies Angus dies so I take pint of Bushnell pour it on his grave.

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

“Aw, hell. Zombies.”
Professor Heath laughed from across the bar.
“No, they’re whiskey sours.”
He drank his, then poured more gunpowder into his shotgun shells.
Nicole poured another round of whiskey, then passed out rounds for our
pistols.
“I thought,” she said, “Romero’s zombie movies were a commentary on
the mindless nature of modern American society.”
“What, nihilism?” I snorted. “It’s all mindless and will eat you in the end?”
The Professor stood and smiled.
“There is only one effective response to both nihilism and the undead.”
He took aim through the boards on the window and fired.
“Decisive action.”

JUSTIN

You don’t need whiskey to drink away sorrows if you can’t remember them. I have a hard time remembering. I wish I could drink to remember, because I have many more good memories than sorrows. My memories are fading. I’m doing my best to keep it from slowing me down as it slowly erodes my memory. I’ll keep going, but it terrifies me to forget. I would rather have a cancer eating away my body before having my mind stripped away. I’ll live like I’m about to die, even though Alzheimer’s might take all that I’ve done before the end.

EVAMOON

Thunder cracked and we retreated a little farther into the the meager
protection of a rocky overhang. Four days into the Yosemite back country at
a high lake and it was cold. A sudden storm crowded the sun out of an autumn
afternoon and now lightning stabbed granite peaks surrounding the lake
continuously.
At the height of the tempest, two more hikers crawled into our sliver of
shelter. We huddled; four little bugs tucked into a crevice, waiting to warm
our wings. Then one of our new friends pulled a fifth of whiskey out of his
pack.
Let it rain.

FEMME BLEU

One New Years Eve Whiskey and Bourbon fell into bed and mixed drinks. Thus was Little Whiskey born.. Little Whiskey ran with horses, broke pool cues, lost at poker, was addicted to jazz music, dark poetry, runnin with drunks, and the pursuit of more Whiskey. Till she got to Ireland, and found the ultimate Whisky — Green Spot. Uisce Beatha ” the water of life. Little Whiskey nearly drowned@! “Whisky is the pool into which Narcissus gazed” said Little Whisky. “Whisky will get me killed” said little Whisky who lost her Dad Big Whisky to whisky a long time ago.

ANIMA

Simple, still sitting here at the Wishing Well? Some things never change”
You’s Wrong!!
Lemme tell you about change” I done changed jobs, changed diapers and changed the locks on my door.
Joyce, she going thru the change, and that be changing our relationship.
I been short changed all my life, leaving me feeling mighty changeable.
I have changed my party affiliation for a man who is ready for Change.
Now, I’s changing the subject. You gotten me all riled up, buy me a whisky ” beer won’t do.
Simple, I said, after all these years, you haven’t changed a bit.

THOMAS

The sun shone through the dark amber liquid, casting lucid rays about the room. His entire life lay inside the glass, dazzling his swollen eyes.
A universe unto itself, moving slowly in time. A million emotions dancing and making love, within; happiness and misery, love and hate, peace and remorse. Conscience, regret, longing and memory lie beneath it’s golden surface… waiting.
He lifts it high, toasting past, future and this dying moment. Peering into its’ depths for one last look. Its’ twenty year journey from field to perfection was nearly over. The whiskey sending warm tendrils numbing his thoughts. Smooth…

ALMO

“Well, do we have a deal?” Nicky asked, pouring three fingers of whiskey into the tumblers between the men.
Roger hesitated. He knew this happened a hundred times a day in his business. The odds of being caught were nil. The loser would be the insurance company. That impact was less than a flea bite.
His mind flashed to seventh grade. The difficult spelling test he had received such lavish praise for. He had cheated. He had felt ill when the teacher singled him out for recognition.
Roger was older; corners weren’t so sharp. He raised the glass. “We do.”

PLANET X

Recently, at a movie premier, Jimmy Buffet was walking along the gold carpet and asked Steve Jobs what the one brand of whiskey he enjoyed.
Steve replied, that as The Chair of a distillery company that used cereal in the process of creating a lower priced whiskey, he had made it taboo to discuss it with outsiders.
He did say that the actual recipe and process was kept under lock and key in a steamer trunk and was guarded by zombies. The one person who had seen it, now sang like a nightingale and lived a life in the sewers.

Old George was a hell of a man.
He turned 101 Thursday.
That was the day before the night he died.
Most people want to die in their sleep.
No pain, no surprises.
Go to sleep and never wake up.
Not George.
He didn’t want to go at all.
Last Thursday night he got hammered and this cute 19 year-old doll took him home.
Later, when her husband got home, George went out the window still pulling on his pants.
Fell from the second floor and broke his neck.
Whiskey and tail, that was how George wanted to go.

PLANET Z

After reading about the Whiskey Rebellion, my friends and I invented this game called Whiskeypedia.
You log on to Wikipedia and look for the most popular articles. Then, you make funny changes to the articles.
The last change to get rolled back is the winner. Everybody else takes a shot of whiskey, toasting to the last man standing.
The more you drink, the weirder the updates get.
Sometimes, nobody ends up noticing the change and it’s there for a very long time.
The government is thinking of getting involved, calling our actions vandalism.
Perhaps, Tom the Tinkerer will rise again.

Weekly Challenge #111 – One

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Eleven, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by me, and I went with One.
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):

ELISSON

It”s a simple concept, really.
Sh”ma Yisroel, Hashem Elokeinu, Hashem Echad. Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God is unique.
Other cultures had their pantheons, packed with gods of every description. All of them loosely modeled on humans and replete with the whole laundry list of human frailties. Envy, jealousy, hatred, lust, greed, you name it. So complicated. And so wrong.
“All things being equal, the simplest solution tends to be the best one.” William of Ockham said that. My idea, of course. Everything”s my idea, at the end of the day.
One God. That”s Me. What could be simpler?

ARNIMAS

It wasn’t my fault. It was his. He didn’t mention me, even though I deserved credit. Maybe all the credit!
Oh, those years together, working day and night. A team like no other, we made the impossible real and the possible incomparable. I could ask for no better.
Until last night. The speech began as I expected, telling the tale of the magic we created, but ended without mentioning me. Not even once!
I had no choice. He deserved it.
And now I am the only one left.
They are coming for me now. I’d better reload.

STEVEN

You scream over the echoes of the bomb: “Call 911!”
Two rescue breaths, just like in the book, move down. Find the
xyphoid, ignore the twisted shape of his ribs and push push. Ignore
that this kid had shoved in front of you, ignore his shrapnel and his
burned flesh on your hands. Push push. Move back up, head-tilt-
chin-thrust. He’s young, no lines on his face, then the sirens and
wounded wail in chorus, remember breathe, breathe. Fingers on his
neck, feel for a pulse, feel for breath on your cheek. C’mon, any
pulse.
Just a little heartbeat.
Just one.

GUY DAVID

They knew The One would come, eventually. The Book said so. It was the book of truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Meanwhile, they built glorious temples to his name, contrived elaborate ceremonies and sacrificed the first born of anyone who dared to defy the ways of The One. Still, he didn’t come. They waited. He didn’t come. They waited. He didn’t come. They waited. He didn’t come. They waited. He didn’t come. They waited. He didn’t come. They waited. He didn’t come. They waited. He didn’t.
After 4000 years of waiting, they started a new religion.

HOTSPUR

I love dancing with you.
Your eyes light up as we glide gracefully around.
I love dancing with you.
Your loving smile is the envy of every guy in the room. Heh, those bums.
I love dancing with you.
For one brief moment the loneliness seems to go away.
I love dancing with you.
We make a wonderful couple. Don”t we?
I love dancing with you.
Sure, I”m a brokedown drunken ballplayer with one leg
And you”re a dime-a-dance girl I pay to dance with,
And maybe it”s your job to be so friendly,
But I love dancing with you.

FEMME BLEU

I was pure fascinated when they told me in high school that computers were binary. Remember the time that Boris Spassky took on Big Blue, man versus IBM supercomputer playing a game of chess? Man won! What is binary? Ye either have a zero or a one. It is either black or white, yes or no. What about maybe? What about shades of grey? Maybe is possiblility. When I get lonely I feel like zero, when happy I feel like 1, with my companions .5, .3 .8 the inbetweens. IBM lost the chess match because it couldn’t do maybe!

MIKE

Standing on the gallows, Zeke reviewed his decision to decline the hood; yeah – good call. He wanted to see it all: the warden’s last glance at the direct line to the Governor’s office at five seconds before midnight, then his nod to the executioner; that officer tightening his grip on the lever, his knuckles turning white as he pulls it; then the upward leap of the opposite wall. He’d heard you went from ‘drop’ to ‘stop’ in about a second – guess we’ll see.
The clock’s second hand swept past the 10 – game time. Glance – nod – grip – pull – and: one Missisippi…

EVA MOON

“That’s one.”
Peering over her boss’s shoulder, Alma saw the blue screen of his new
laptop. Crashed. Bummer. She returned to her desk. Like the laptop, it was
her first day on the job.
A moment later:
“That’s two.”
She could hear the jab of angry fingers. She winced in sympathy and
continued working.
“That’s three.”
She jumped at the sound of breaking glass. When she looked through the door
she was aghast. Her new boss stood by a shattered window.
“My God!” She exclaimed, “That’s insane! It’s 35 stories down! You might
have killed someone!”
He turned, glaring.
“That’s one.”

ANIMA

One, and one, and one more.
Not much more, or much less
Is it three?
The relationship: a man and a woman, and an ex?
Candles burning on a cake, or the number of legs on your old dog.
Or is it one hundred eleven?
Episodes in a podcast,
Iron bars penning up the guilty.
Or maybe hashes on the calendar, counting days to vacation”.
It certainly means something to your computer, but that’s only half the message.
As I see it,
There is only one, standing alone”
Reflected between funhouse mirrors, ad infinitum.
There is only the one.

TOM

He spun the chamber, but only once. The muzzle resting against his temple. Slowly slowly the pressure from his finger transferred to the trigger. One in six he thought, good odds, a reasonable level of risk. That silly song from Chorus Line was playing in the background.
“Ya she”s the one,” he said
“Say hello to my little friend.” she said.
“You”re the one that I want”
“There can only be one.”
“One is the loneliest number.”
“One enchanted eve BLAM,” he slid to the floor.
“One fine day I”m going to BLAM,” she slid to the floor.
Fuckn Zombies

ALMO

The red LED shows Five.
Johnson looks at the wires, one red, one white. Sweat forms on his forehead.
Four.
A drop of sweat falls from the end of his nose. He glances at the schematic.
Three.
No good. He can’t make sense of it. The writing might be Chinese.
Two.
He closes his eyes. He trusts his intuition. He selects Red.
One.
He pushes the power button on the new plasma TV.
Nothing.

THOMAS

We were embedded, all ten of us; moving cautiously three miles along the Song Ma to the
Ham Rong bridge, or roughly translated, the Dragon’s Jaw.
Go destroy it.
We knew it wouldn’t be easy.
Ted and Jimmy bought it stepping on mines. Boomer, Matt, and Pyle were picked off by a sniper before we got him. Suddenly, we came under heavy fire. Sarge cashed in first. Then Eddie and Bruce… Cut down by the VC. Joe and I were pinned down when a piece shrapnel took Joe.
Leaving only one left… me.
I’ll go out guns blazing. Semper Fi.

SOUGENT

“I want one.”, said Eno. “One what?”, asked his only brother Neo.
“I want one of them there Jimmy Buffet CD’s, that one right over yonder.”.
“That one is mighty expensive, Yer gonna need ta get yerself a job ta pay fer it”.
“I already got me one, why ya think I’ve been looking like a darned zombie fer?”
“Oh, yeah, y’all got a job at one of them cereal factories.”
“Yeah, it’s a killin’ me just sittin in one chair all day long, but it’s taboo ta get up til that there whistle blows at one o’clock”

JUSTIN

For the first time on Tuesday, my first and only wife gave birth to our one and only child. This will probably be the one and only time I write shameless father bragging on the 100 word stories podcast full of the cutest baby you have ever seen. How cute is she? Think of the cutest baby girl you have seen and imagine how cute she is, add about fifty-five times that amount of cuteness and you will know how cute she is. This isn’t even really a story but it has a cute baby in it, so who cares?

PLANET Z

Late last night, Monsignor Radcliffe sat in his study, reading Plato.
The clock began its chimes.
Midnight.
He checked his watch. Sure enough, the clock was running fast by a few seconds.
Radcliffe stood from his chair, walked to the mantelpiece, and picked up the clock.
The window shattered as he tossed the noisy clock out into the street.
The old priest was shocked to hear a scream.
He looked. It had hit a streetwalker and killed her.
Radcliffe sighed. The clock was worse that he’d thought.
In a matter of seconds, It went from striking twelve to striking one.

Weekly Challenge #110 – Jobs

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And Ten, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Steven the Nuclear Man, who is going for broke with Jobs.
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):

CYBSTER DJ

One of my first DJ jobs was in a skating rink back in 1986. My standard look was a red shirt with the sleeves rolled up one turn, a narrow black leather tie, black stretch jeans and nike hi-tops. My hair was dark brown, long enough to reach the middle of my back and blow-dried in such a way that it boofed out like Gene Simmons from Kizz. Well it goes without saying that I was a hit with the ladies and I would often come down out of the booth during songs to fraternise. Yeees, those were the days.

TOM

The monkey avatar had had many jobs. Christ, he was 3000 thousand years old. He liked to think his best work was Deuteronomy, but some argue the Patriot Act was a work of pure genius. Sadly time was running out for the 100th monkey carpal tunnel syndrome and prespeopia were limited his job opportunities. He took another draw of single malt, the midgets quarters were cramped under the staircase in the Houston home. He was ghost hacking a 100 words a day. “A Jobs is a Job,” his mum would say between writing breaks of the Ramayana. Zombies Oh fuck

STEVEN

Now.
PFC Fenti flinches, but there is no explosion. The driver glances at
him, then watches the road again.
Now.
Nothing. Bullets fail to come streaking from the windows. Simmons
lights a Camel – irony is cheap here – and blows smoke in Fenti’s
face.
Spielberg would consider that a cue; the insurgents do not. Tense,
boring minutes pass. A drip of sweat falls from Fenti’s head onto his
weapon.
Now.
No bullets. No IED. Nothing.
He says it: “Remember, it’s not just a job…”
When the left side of the hummer goes in flame and shrapnel, it’s
almost a relief.
Now.

GUY DAVID All In One RSS FEED!

The Chirapa needed to study the humans. They worked on improving their personal cloaking devices and used them to make themselves appear human. They walked amongst the humans and discovered they used currencies called “money”. Some of them argued that they could get jobs as humans for some of that currencies, which would enable them to purchase human computers and study them through the internet, which was just starting out back then. The elder Chirapa thought it too risky and decided they should build their own computers. Chaketo Chirapa, all grown up now, was put in charge of the project.

JUSTIN

Everyone wants to sell things these days the easy way, without a permit. It is my job to make sure this does not happen. We really don’t need unlicensed goods roaming the streets, ending up in who knows what hands for who knows what purpose. The tax consequences alone are a good enough reason, as well. No making money under the table when I am around. If you so much as write down an idea to sell something I’ll be on you, watching. The time has come for righting these crimes, starting with that little girl at her lemonade stand.

ELISSON

Ron had trouble holding down a job.
He was fired from the zoo after they caught him spanking the monkey. Even worse, there was evidence that he had also been whipping the lizard.
He lasted less than a week at the Tyson processing plant. Someone discovered him in the process of choking the chicken, a job he was unauthorized to perform. The SPCA was outraged.
All of this changed when Ron interviewed with the Staunton Amalgamated Chess-Piece Manufactory. He was hired, quickly rising through the ranks, eventually becoming CEO.
For nobody could wax a bishop as well as Ron. /Nobody/.

ALMO

Roger grimaced as he dug his hands into the box and felt the slime of raw meat. He pulled out a fatty lump and tossed it over the chain-link fence. Feeding time.
Roger didn’t look anymore. He hated the sight of the flesh being torn and devoured.
“What’s with you?” his partner Leon asked, noticing Roger’s expression. Leon pulled hunk from the box and heaved it over.
“At least you’ve got a job,” Leon said, jerking his head toward the mass of starving people on the other side of the barrier waiting for the next piece.

HOTSPUR

Ten tough jobs.
Dat’s wat de judge gib me. Fo de ‘crime’ of lookin’ at de woman ‘wrong’. Dat’s justice in Yoknapatawpha County. Man need sumpin done, suddenly someone lookin’ at his wife wrong. Still, it’s no lynchin’.
“Hercules, my lad, you are to report to Mr. Ruffin, for duties”
Ruffin, he a hard man.
First, he say, ‘go fetch the skin off’n dat mountain lion dat’s killin’ my cattle.’
Then, ‘kill dat ol’ snake gettin’ in de henhouse.’
Dat’s hard enuf, but dis job?
How’s a body sposed to shovel all dis muck in a day, I asks you?

THOMAS

“Vegas, city of lights, buffets, and slots. Exciting yes , but being a good-luck troll has challenges. Getting dragged out of a purse smelling of Ben Gay and Musk. She then kisses me, sets me on her slot machine. Wanting a miracle, she tells me to work my magic.
“My brother lucked out, cruising and getting tan on a 76′ Gremlin’s dash, while I’m inches from a cigarette, covered in gin scented phlegm. She must have coughed up a lung.
“What? A jackpot! Oh no! Here come more toxic kisses.
“Why do I have to be so good at my job?”

CRAIG

Nice To See You Again
Shakti always woke early, then sat on the the bed doing Zazen.
My eyes would open to Shakti”s smile, she”d say, “nice to see you again.”
My hand would rise to meet hers, I”d pull her back to lay with me, are noses touching, giggling a little as we snuggled closer.
One morning she asked ” how do we take a journey?”
“There is no journey, no beginning, no end, remember it”s arising only” I answered.
Momentarily perplexed she started to ask then let go and kissed me.
Kiya Kiya she whispered through her wet lips, we fell back asleep.

ANIMA

Steven Paul?
Yes Lord?
You have done well for such a minor investment. I apologize for taking away the first company, all on account of a bad wager” Eminence gets so boring, we were just having a bit of fun. But you persisted, tormented a few employees, and look at you now! You’re back at the helm, and you got to fire a dozen CEOs. Creating demand for gadgets people can’t live without is such a nice touch. Indeed, a very lucrative return for the transaction of your soul. So… Jobs… how about a corporate discount on the new I-phone?

MIKE

She loved her job as ‘point man’. Sure, the penalties were harsh: for repeated failure – starvation; for discovery – execution. The reward, though – first to eat – was priceless, and other mouths were depending on her.
Choosing her mark carefully – fat and likely desperate for companionship – she’d provided some, and promised more. Her tale of abuse and loneliness had gained a measure of trust; only the final act remained.
“C’mon, it’s just us girls,” she coaxed.
“Where are they?”
“The park.” Wrong word.
“Too dangerous, girls or no,” he said, and stepped into a crowd.
The young werewolf sighed. No supper – again.

PLANET Z

People say he’s got the hardest job in the world.
I beg to differ.
Guarding him is the hardest job in the world.
I was the top of my class.
I broke cases people thought unsolvable.
That badge meant everything to me because it meant something.
Now, I’m just a babysitter for an old, crazy gimp who calls on his psychic when his mistress isn’t there to get him off.
Have you looked at the First Lady? There’s no veil thick enough for that one.
Once, he made me stand there and watch.
That shit-eating grin of his.
Roosevelt!

Weekly Challenge #109 – Jimmy Buffet

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And 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 selected by Thomas, who is going for broke with Jimmy Buffet.
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):

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

The rain patters cold on my shoulders, the post hole digger, the body
of the bird wrapped gently in a Sponge Bob pillowcase. Sarah’s soft
sobs are muffled by Martha’s torso, my daughter’s arms tightly
wrapped around her mother.
I am finishing when Sarah touches me, the last clod softly packed down
with my booted foot.
“Daddy, is Heaven something like Margaritaville?”
I look at Martha; her look away and the mention of Bob’s favorite song
says more than a strange man’s jeans in the wash.
“No,” I say, crying with her as Martha goes inside, “It’s nothing like that.”

TOM

The skin burned like hell. It filled the arm from the elbow to the shoulder. The salt shaker, the blender, the parrot, the stupid grinning face of Jimmy Buffet. Of course it was a beauty, a Caribbean Cute, how it got there he hadn”t a clue. He had been upending 151s with a guy name Raoul in a drive by the docks in Trinidad. The last thing he remembered was the tail end of a Bembe this girl name horse with those vacant eyes. Some say that woman”s to blame, but he knew its his own dam fault. Fuckn “. Zombies.

SPACE TURTLE

The sun shone from the sky onto the hardened face of a pirate. The pirate stared across the horizon as he reminisced the pirates life that had been for him as he stood on the bow of his ship, The Jimmy. The ship was buffeted by the crashing of his ship’s wake into the wake of his sister ship, The Jolly Mon, who sailed along beside, sea spray sparkling into the air. Their goal was a salty piece of land they would call home. The pirate captain was looking to make this his last voyage, for he was fifty.

THOMAS

Leaving the banana republics, A son of a sailor, needed a drink. The Tiki Bar was open, so he ordered a volcano. At the bar was a smart woman, in a real short skirt.
He asked the barman, “Who’s the blond?”
“I don’t know and I don’t care.” he said.
“Fine.”
Smoothing his pencil thin mustache, he sidled over, boat drink in hand and said, “My lovely lady, why don’t we get drunk and screw?”
In a baritone voice she said, “Honey, I’ll take you on a trip around the sun.”
The barman snickered.
Breathe in, breathe out: move on.

CALEB

Hello?
Mr. James Buffet?
Yeah that”s me man come on in, want a beer?
Its time
Aw c”mon!
Its time!
I got all the money in the world, can”t we make another deal?
No! Even in hell we aren”t that cruel. Come with me.
Okay
Step into the limo sir.
Aw hey! It”s Michael Jackson! How you doin, boy?
Hello James, about as well as you I suppose, when Britney wakes up, say hello to her too.
Hey driver? Is this the reason musicians always seem to die in threes?
Kind of but it applies to you three as well.

MIKE

The cutter Jimmy Buffet cruised the warm Caribbean waters, her radar turning ceaselessly. Until a few years ago, the area had been filled with wealthy tourists lazily cruising among the small islands that dotted the area. Rumors of raiders, though, launching deadly attacks under the cover of island music – broadcast from the ship’s speakers, of all things – had caused that major revenue stream to all but dry up.
“Skipper!” came the cry from the bridge. “Radar return two miles to the northwest. Looks like a 35 footer.”
“Come about – close from astern,” the captain called, reaching for a calypso CD.

ANIMA

Imagine 4 college girls in a Ford Fiesta, escaping a midwestern March.
Destination: Key West. A Jimmy Buffet cassette loops over and over.
Packing list: flip flops, bathing suit, dress. Check. Battery operated blender and tequila. Check and double check.
No one has money. Meals are bar snacks and the charity of frat boys. Everything that can be charged to Daddy’s gas card, is. We sleep on the beach while we tan.
Tami goes missing She reappears at dawn, with a new tattoo, a boys address crumpled in her hand.
Parrots cackle as we head north, nursing well earned hangovers.

MISFITINA

Thin eggshell stripes framed the cool hell. Dry blonde hair was caught in
the hinge of a bright blue beach chair, and the glaze of mid-day reassured
him of absence, detachment. His phantom hands were sticky from sugar,
Cuervo, and blood. It didn’t breathe, and the silence compounded into a
chorus, damning, damning… yet *Margaritaville* was thunderous above them,
on the boardwalk. And fuck if he wouldn’t love a cheeseburger, grazing in
the sand with the Master of Parrots. As the body and the tide rudely
obscured the circus scents, this anthem of regret, apathy, oblivion, served
as *Amazing Grace*..

CRAIG

Come Monday I”ll be heading to paradise for a cheese burger.
You may think me crazy for traveling for a hunk of cow but I”m here to
tell you it”s all about location.
Now I wouldn”t ever go to North Dakota for a Margaretta even if Jimmy
Buffet stirred and shook it just for me.
I would on the other hand travel to Cuba to find the trail of the pencil
thin mustache.
So if this story has got you feeling blue then jump right up on the
coconut telegraph and send me a dot and a couple of dashes

ELISSON

Seven-year-old Evan”s face glowed with happiness. This was the best
birthday party ever!
All his friends were there, having the time of their lives. Mom and Dad
were enjoying the party as well, pounding down Margaritas with the other
grownups while the kids played party games and wolfed custom-made ice
cream sundaes.
Yes, ice cream sundaes. This place not only provided the ice cream, hot
fudge, caramel and butterscotch sauces, maraschino cherries, whipped
cream, and chopped nuts; there was row after row of multicolored
sprinkles to choose from.
Screw Chucky Cheese, thought Evan. Jimmy Buffett”s Jimmy Buffet was
waaaay better.

ALMO

The woman at the end of the bar had too much makeup and too little idea how
to use it. Her smile was lopsided, as if she couldn’t make the full effort.
Her top had been tight once. It was too tight now.
A lesser known Jimmy Buffett ballad floated through the tired little bar.
The stool beside her was open and I sat there. I bought two drinks. When she
started to talk I handed her one. When she tried to speak again, I lifted
my glass in silent toast and she drank.
We both looked down. Mom smiled.

TERRY TEE

It’s been two weeks since I retired from my job of thirty-five years and in thirty-five years some things change, but then again, some things don’t.
As an example, I’ve been going to Jimmy’s barber shop for the last twenty-five years and no other barber has touched my hair in all that time. One thing Jimmy does is ask me each time how I want it cut. Oh sure, each year there’s a little less to cut on top, but he still asks, “How do you want the top Terry?”
Now I say, “Well, Jimmy, buff-it to a high sheen.”

DAPHNE

He took me to Paris, not in France but One Particular Harbor this 40 year old pirate knew. When we docked, the Last Mango Bar was selling Boat Drinks but we wanted Cheeseburgers and headed to the Paradise Grill that our friend with the Pencil Thin Mustache owned. We ate, drank and joked about Growing Older but Not Up and laughed at how We Are the People Our Parents Warned Us About. When we left for the night I look down and picked up a salt shaker turn to the bar and yelled “Hey Jimmy, were you looking for this?”

LAIEANNA

For years, Jimmy Peterson spent every day eating at his favorite Chinese buffet. A conveyor belt of wait staff brought plate after plate to his table which was not typical service at a serve yourself restaurant, except 862 pounds Jimmy hadn’t left his bench in two years. Still, he served a purpose, greeting other customers with praise and jokes, using his size, about the great food. Nights he slept stationary like his days. Before closing, the owner would throw a hat on Jimmy’s head and a blanket over his massive body with the words “Security Guard” stitched across the fabric.

GUY DAVID

It was a buffet. Zelda neatly put the cutlery on the table, her finest china. Jimmy, her husband, watched in horror, mixed with strange fascination. He knew they would have to leave soon, but Zelda was treating her guests to the best of standards. She always liked things perfect that way.
The guests started trickling in. They sat at the table and gobbled all the food greedily. What started out as order ended up as chaos. Zelda didn’t mind though. As Jimmy reluctantly went to pack the suitcases, the guests dropped one by one as the poison gobbled their system.

PLANET Z

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that people take things too far.
I know these Jimmy Buffet fans who run this bar. Nothing but Margaritas and the noisiest blenders in the world.
Which, is a good thing. You see, these folks go overboard with the term “parrothead” by putting an actual parrot head in each pitcher of margaritas.
Rows and rows of cages filled with the damn birds are stacked in the basement of the bar.
They could use parakeets. They’re cheaper, tastes just like parrot.
Nope.
I stick to bottled beer. And fried parrot fingers.
Delicious!

Weekly Challenge #108 – Gold

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And 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 selected by Planet Z, who is going for broke with…
It’s Gold.
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):

THOMAS

Melvin Goldberg was his name, but his fellow demons called him “Gold”. He was impatient. Plenty of work still laid ahead of him, but Gold loved his job. The campaigns were in full swing with everybody eager to sell their soul.
Just a flash of his smarmy smile and they were Gold’s. Whatever promises he had to make he would. Democrat; Republican; hell, even Jedi! They would cast principles aside and sign on the dotted line. Winners and losers didn’t matter. He was, after all, in sales, not fulfillment. That was somebody else’s department.
So many politicians, so little time.

MCJC

Hip wears silver, family wears gold. She chose copper bangles, colored glass beads. On holidays she would receive gold hoops or rings, tennis bracelets, charms. She dreamt of melting them down into a bar as a door stop. Meaningless. Save, Lame’ tops, frosted hair, big broaches at JC Penney. Save, time spent before growing apart. Each unworn piece, treasure of mall trips, and distant sisterhood. Friends, adorned in silver and hemp shirts, said titanium lasts forever. Yet gold survives, fluid like memory and love, familiar in the glow, the ancient desire to capture the sun, the warm, and the good.

JUSTIN

Ehh you, Golden Boy, dat’s right, you. I’ve had enough of your shenanigans… makin’ my boys disappear… I don’t know where they go, but I don’t believe you turn criminals into people that help the poor, and me and my bat here are going to settle this disagreement.
The thug swung the bat. The man with a yellow ingot symbol on his chest grabbed it. The bat turned gold, as did the man that held it. The Golden Boy then melted the body down, forming it into golden bricks, which he then sold, donating the money to the poor.

TOM

Bill Ray slid across the vinyl in the booth. Alma Sue fingered the crystal salt shaker. The smell of coffee embraced the acrid tinge of sweet crude. Billy flipped the edge of the tiny black velvet box. The glow in Alma”s eyes reflected the gold and diamonds his token of love. Irene glided between the couple and deposed a piece of absinthe pie. “Oh Billy such opulence,” purred Alma sliding the golden ring onto her finger. The last rays of a golden sun was setting on loves labor lost. The tiny gold cross upon her neck glowed. “Oh Fuck “””””..Zombies”

STEPHEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

The machine goes ping and she stifles a laugh. They loved that movie.
His hands are cold in hers, so she is not surprised when the rhythmic
ping changes to a whine, then to the chaos of nurses and doctors
performing a full code. She allows herself to be ushered out to the
sterile comfort of the waiting room.
Couples fight silently overhead, the trash tv thankfully muted. Her
fingers caress the worn gold of her ring. She wonders if she will
wear it once he has gone.
She sees the doctor in the doorway, and stands to meet him.

HOTSPUR

How do I explain? I had no clues to his identity. To me, he was a wandering drunk that passed out in my rose garden in his own vomit. A man in my position has to show munificence. It”s expected.
So the servants made inquiries and sent him back where he came from.
The magnificent gift I received in return.. well.. I”m set for life, I thought. It was delightful transforming mundane into fabulous. Then I got hungry. And, well, you know the rest.
What will I tell her mother? And yet, she makes a lovely statue, does she not?

EVA

At last a small cove yielded up a crescent moon of smooth sand.
The crossing had been harrowing and the coast, after months at sea, taunted
them for days with impenetrable cliff walls. But the promise of a new land
of gold and riches kept them at the ship”s rail.
Ernesto leapt from the boat into the foaming surf, ignoring the water
streaming into his leather boots. He scrambled up the rocks and gazed at the
expanse of small yellow flowers that carpeted the land to the line of
distant trees.
“Capitan!” he shouted, grinning, “We have found the gold!”

ALMO

The robber stood in darkness, flashlight in his teeth, and admired the exquisite inlay on the lid of the box. He ran his hand over the gleaming wood. He didn’t know wood, but it felt expensive, smooth and warm to the touch.
What jewelry would the rich have?
He opened the box and was awed by the way the contents sparkled under his light. The diamond earrings were first to be plucked. Then the necklace. Antique. Valuable.
Finally, he took the gold wedding band and let the lid of the casket drop as he slipped away into the night.

MIKE

Thousands have killed for it; millions, possibly, have died for it. In leaf form, it graces countless domes at all levels of government, as well as untold numbers of universities and church buildings. Few things are as beautiful as the gilt accents seen in pottery, porcelain, and glass, as well as on the edges of the pages of a fine book. I speak of the most desired of metals – gold.
But the gold that stirs my heart and fires my blood are the flecks that dance in the eyes of my one true love, every time she smiles at me.

Johnathan stands next to the creek and watches the water wash through his homemade sluice.
His left hand, holding the long wooden handle, pushes and pulls causing the wooden box to rock gently left and right.
Johnathan’s eyes, ever watchful of the gravel in the bottom of the box, glints at his first sign of color.
His right hand, quickly diving into the water, grasp the nugget and lifts it to the sky.
The nugget sparkles in the sun.
Behind Johnathan’s back Ellen climbs onto the big stallion with the dark stranger and rides away.
Truly, this is fool’s Gold.

ANIMA

“Here you go,” says Jason, holding out the glass amphora to his cousin, King AEetes. A metallic pinging emanates from the jar.
The arrogant youth prates on, “I’m ready to take over the throne, like you agreed to””
“What are you babbling on about?” Asks the king.
“You said, if I brought back the golden fleas, I’d get my throne back. You never thought I would go all the way to the gates of Hades and pluck them from Cerberus. Man, does he have stinky dog breath”.”
“You Greek goof, clean your ears. You’re to bring me the GOLDEN FLEECE!”

GUY DAVID

Chaketo have really grown. Mama Chirapa always worried about him, so thin and pale. “Why can’t I go and play on the surface?” he would always ask. “The humans are suspicious of strangers” Mama Chirapa would say, “we can’t risk them knowing about us.” Chaketo could never understand this, why would anyone be suspicious of anyone else? “When I grow up, I would find a way to earn their trust” he thought. Meanwhile, The Chirapa mind the gold from the dipper underground tunnels in order to keep their cloaking devices operational. They really didn’t want those Humans to discover them.

CRAIG

Walking into the local vegetarian restaurant I felt tension, was my leather jacket setting them on edge.
Placing my order I smiled, looking deeply into eyes that didn”t look back.
My order of a simple brown rice bowl came with a bonus, a side of silence, no charge.
In the restroom HOWL played in endless loop. I washed my hands mouthing
“I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by madness,”
“who lit cigarettes in boxcars boxcars boxcars”
“who cut their wrists three times”
I stood looking at my gold watch wondering about different roles, then left.

ELISSON

Theodoric was in trouble. Deep trouble.
As an up-and-coming young alchemist at the Magisterium, he had boasted openly of his ability to turn base metal into gold. Too openly…
…for when the Regent”s men overheard him, they were swift to pass word to their master.
Now he shared a fetid cell with a heap of leaden ingots. Transmute or die, they had told him.
Sweating, trembling, he closed his eyes, tonelessly reciting the incantation.
An ill-timed stutter on the last word added fifteen protons and twenty-seven neutrons too many, whereupon the Magisterium, along with the surrounding countryside, ceased to exist.

TERRENCE

Over the years many had feared Raoul. Many trembled at his mere presence. People fled from him. He was after all the most feared of all his brothers, even if he had been written out of the ‘Good’ book.
There was, however, the one time all that changed. People were not running or quivering at his presence. They were cheering him. This had not been his intent. He had hoped that his actions would lead to the damnation of millions. He would have never guessed people would be happy that he turned all those hopeful singers in to Golden Idols.

PLANET Z

For months, we sack and pillaged the New World, plundering the riches of Empire and carting away tons of finest Gold.
Cortez check his math.
“Did we plunder six or seven cities of gold?” he ask.
Some of the men say six.
Some say seven.
One say eight, but Pedro, one who say eight, he not so good at math.
“Do we go back?” I ask.
“No,” say Cortez. “We have enough. It give something to go back to, no?”
We load the ships, raise the sails, and head back to Cleveland.
So simple to rob Canada these days, yes?

Weekly Challenge #107 – The Chair

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And 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 selected by Craig from Wash The Bowl, who is going for broke with…
It’s The Chair.
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

Baby Bear looked at the shattered splinters of wood that were once his favorite chair and he wept bitter tears.
“Someone ate my porridge and broke my chair!” he growled. “I will have my revenge!”
“Son, don’t get carried away,” said Papa Bear.
Baby Bear would have none of it. “When I am through with them, death will be considered a mercy!”
The outburst woke Goldilocks up. Heart pounding with fear, she leapt out of Baby Bear’s bed and ran for the window.
It was painted shut.
Heavy paw footfalls on the stairs. Angry, muttered threats under his breath.
“REVENGE!”

FREEREED

cummings says… the artist is like the circus performer who sits on top of three balanced chairs. the three chairs are three facts of his life… “I am an artist, I am a man, I am a failure.” my chair is an old wood swivel from the brother in laws garage. in that garage is art made by mikey who was murdered at age eleven. They never caught the killer. i think this chair knows who killed mikey This chair knows me. “I am an artist, I am a woman. I am a failure.” Well, Off to the therapist now

RICH PALMER

A white room. A simple white room with no embellishments. One should look for windows, but there is no point. It is simply a white room. No curtains, no shelving, no tables. Just a white room. And the chair.
The chair that sits in the very center of the plain, white room.
The chair is nondescript. The chair has no ornaments. There are no intricately carved legs. There is no fine upholstery. The legs are wood. The back is wood. The seat is wood. It is simply a chair.
I sit in the chair. The white room has gone dark.

GUY DAVID

“Address the chair” said the head table. “I beg to differ” uttered the chest of drawers but the cupboard shushed her. The respectable window curtain walked in. An appreciative silence filled the room. The sofa moaned. “I think she ate too much last night” whispered a bed to a cabinet. The cabinet just shrugged and said “that sofa would be very hungry when there is no food left. There is a limited amount of unsuspecting people around you know.” The chair cleared his throat and said “We hold these truths to be self-evident: That all furniture are created equal…”

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

It first creaked as she rocked in summer’s heat, waiting for the baby.
Dad fixed it, but she wouldn’t sit in it until he made it squeak
again.
She rocked through my breastfeeding and tantrums. I showed up once
with teenage bravado and a cigarette. She stopped. I put the
cigarette out and heard the rhythmic creak again.
I missed it when I left for college. Squeaks lulled me to sleep when
I returned for Dad’s funeral.
It’s silent now. My wife asks if I’m okay.
The wind moves the rocker, and for a second I pretend that I am.

THOMAS

The chair, impressive once, sits in the corner. The center of the home for decades; but for several years, silent. After thirty years of marriage, the chair to the right of the once formidable recliner, is now the center of life.
The diminutive woman sits stoic: hands clasped. Behind her expression, sits tears, waiting to fall again. ‘Til death do us part was their promise to each other. However, she knew he wasn’t gone. Alone in the silence, looking at his chair, she could still see him. Faintly… briefly… but still he was there; a memory, a love, a promise.

EVA

Alma walked by that door a hundred times a day and even if she didn”t break
her stride, some part of her always lingered there for a thudding heartbeat
or more. Sometimes she”d pause for a moment to reach toward the knob and
feel its warm burnished surface, or run a finger down the dark, grooved wood
of the doorframe. She didn”t have the key. But it wasn”t like she didn”t
know what was in there: The room was completely empty save a single heavy
wooden chair. She shuddered slightly and glanced at the clock on the wall.

Near the access hatch in the deck, under a dim red overhead light, the chair sits.
A slender figure occupies the chair and has done so, unmoving for long ages.
The skin of the face, the texture of leather, is pulled tightly about the skull, the eyes nonexistent.
Holding a short wooden staff, sharpened to a point at one end, he appears ready to offer a challenge to anyone climbing from below.
John 316 grasp the last rung and emerges, only to slip and almost fall back at the sight of this ancient guardian.
The corpse grins with sightless eyes.

TOM

It took Allan and his guys two months to overhaul the Cronomotive. It was deemed too dangerous for Maria to return to the timepad. On departure day only Allan was present bidding Arnesto farewell. As Cervante moved through time a jolt rocked him backwards. When the time machine came to a rest there was Allan next to him PM Arnesto Arroway the third.
“Tell me of Maria, Allan.”
Quartemain turned away.
“Come with me grandfather.”
A chair was set out next to a statue
of Maria tearing open the easy bake.
“She did this to save her students.”
Arnesto wept.

PLANET X

“The Chair has been watching you and wants your resignation on his desk now” Stella calmly stated to Frank the file clerk.
“Why me?” Frank retorted.
“Well, let’s see”. ” Stella replied.
“You come in late and leave early”
“You spend half your day around the coffee pot”
“You take three hour lunches”
“You’re lazy”
“You’re incompetent”
“You lie and cheat your fellow employees on the football pool”
“You’ve sexually harassed almost every female here, along with a couple of the men.”
“Oh, and by the way, Frank” Stella continued
“Starting on Monday, you’re hired back as a mid-level manager”

ANIMA

Management has always made an effort in improving workforce motivation.
The last Friday of the month, we gather in the board room for supermarket cake and a corporate cheer”
Recently, We’ve been playing ” Musical Chairs”.
The boss plays music, and we circle like a pony ride at a county fair. When it stops, we scramble for a seat. The job on the nameplate before you is your new post, until the next time we need “better morale”.
Each month, there are more jobs and fewer chairs.
Their plan is working! With the mortgage due, I find myself very motivated”

ALMO

As he stood at the kitchen counter and slathered extra mayo on the bread, John heard the television announcement rather than saw it.
The name was familiar — a young, fit athlete. He had died of a heart attack while running.
John took his plate into the living room and sat heavily in his La-Z-Boy. He leaned back, picked up the remote and changed to the football game.
“You never hear on the news of anyone having a heart attack while sitting in his recliner, eating a sandwich and watching the game,” he thought.
John smiled, relaxed and ate.

CRAIG

“It”s something and yet nothing” Angie said, “what do you mean something yet nothing” I asked? She smiled saying” the peace you”re feeling right now.”
A terror overcame me, she knew what I was feeling.
I started jogging in place trying to slow my mind as my thoughts assaulted me from every direction.?
A hard stick struck my head with a loud whack. Angie grabbed my arm yelling ” open your eyes, you”re indulging your own fears, open your eyes.”
My eyes opened to see Angie completely alone in a field of opposites, offering me a chair in which to sit.

CALEB

He had a plan” a Brilliant Plan! But if only he could be heard over the screaming horde and the stupid band that would not stop playing! He could save them all” or at least most of those who couldn”t fit in the lifeboats. He knew about buoyancy. He knew a thing or two about structural architecture and if the remaining passengers could get all the furniture fastened to the outside, he could keep this thing afloat. But no matter how he screamed and tried to explain, he couldn”t convince anyone that rearranging deck chairs would help on the Titanic.

SOUGENT

The Chair.
It sits there, in the center.
Sometimes, it’s the focus of a great deal of attention.
Some call it the hot seat.
To look at it one might consider it unremarkable.
But it’s not what it looks like that makes it special.
Some see it as a symbol of power, others a curse.
Many desire it, but few have what it takes to sit there.
For him, it’s where he belongs. If there is such a thing as destiny, then his is to sit right there.
For Captain James Kirk, The Chair is the center of the universe.

LAIEANNA

Thesus walked up fifteen marble steps, bowed, and placed his offerings before the ornate chair of the goddess Nahmudida. It represented her place of power. Thesus opened the blue silk pouch to present, for his deity, two apples, rosemary sprigs, a lock of his daughter’s hair, and five gold coins. The priest standing at his side held, in eyesight, a ceremonial knife. Slowly, Thesus took the weapon, but was quick to slice it against his skin. The blood poured down as he prayed. “Please welcome my dying daughter into your house. I shall take her place wandering in the wasteland.”

Weekly Challenge #106 – Cereal

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And 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 selected by Caleb, who is going for broke with…
It’s Cereal.
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):

STEVEN

For a while after the attempt, everything was spectacular. It was as
if a sensory grime was vomited with the sleeping pills and charcoal,
and left behind in the ER’s biohazard bag. He drank in the sky’s
shifting shades of blue, the smell of grass and gasoline on suburban
weekends. He even savored the oaty richness of generic cereal
scraping down his throat.
He was discharged, but doctors warned that relapse was often subtle.
“People feel fine but don’t notice the symptoms returning.”
He wouldn’t forget. He promised he would be back to see them — when
cereal was boring again.

DAVID

In last weeks episode, our heroes put an end to the murderous rein of Freetown’s sheriff. By fabricating evidence that convinced the town of his child molesting, drug dealing, terrorist ways, they were able to incite a riot in which he was trampled to death by deputies fleeing the scene. What more can two runaways living in sin do to free our town from the violent thugs we call government?
“Captain Crunch?”
“Ate it! Shredded Wheat, Pullman car,” Josh from above their abandoned caboose.
Join us next week to discover the biting answer to Missy’s immortal question????
“Got milk?”

GUY DAVID

Old Mama Chirapa was looking at little Chaketo. Since they landed, he got much thinner and the lights seems to have gone out of his young eyes. They where supposed to land, colonize this planet, only, it wasn’t as deserted as they thought it was. There where creatures living here, called themselves “Humans” and where suspicious of strangers. The Chirapa had to go into hiding. Now, Mama Chirapa sometimes wondered if they would ever see the light of day.
“Eat your cereal, little Chaketo. You have a whole world to conquer, and you have to be strong enough”, she said.

TOM

The impact from the blow sent Quatermain tumbling over the steamer truck. Eight handguns trained on Cervantes head. Maria grabbed the lid of the Easy Bake. Order returned to the Hub.
“Ok my choice of words was ill composed.” Said Quatermain spiting out blood. “Let me show you our prodigy.” Allan led them to a clean and well-lit place, 40 children sitting about eating Captain Crunch.
“We call them
the League of Extraordinary Children.
Mave they are your students.”
“No.” protested Cervantes
“Sorry R it”s already written in the Book.”
Maria smiled and stated
“Lesson One no sugar coat cereal.”

ANIMA

No word from the cattle station in days; Although it’s remote, there’s usually radio chatter…
So I’m going to have me a look.
Jeez ” will you look at this?
They’ve all gone and copped it. There’s no whole pieces left anywhere. Just a jumble of body parts, hooves and bones. I can’t tell cow from cowboy”
At the feed bunk, I sift my fingers through the remaining grains.
Bloody Cheap Owner, supplying tainted feed. Ergot’s an ugly character.
First ruining the farmers’ crop, then driving the cattle that eats it raving mad.
This cereal killer is truly a serial killer.

TERRY

Police Detective Johnson read this week’s crime report:
On Tuesday, as a Kellogg’s truck pulled up to the dock of a grocery store, it exploded into flames that shot one hundred feet into the air.
On Wednesday, it was a Fruity Pebbles truck that exploded across town at another grocery store.
On Thursday, a Cheerios truck was ambushed and totally destroyed.
On Friday, a not so lucky, Lucky Charms truck was the subject of a bombing.
At the scene of each crime a spoon emblem and “United” had been drawn.
Yup, they defiantly had another cereal killer on the loose.

PLANET X

Little Johnny always loved his Alpha-Bits, he sometimes would pick out letters from the cereal bowl and spell out words on the table, shocking his mother.
Today was different, the cereal started to form words by themselves, even before he picked them from the bowl.
At first they were simple words like “today”, “you” and “will”, but when “die” formed in the milk, Johnny started to get scared, scared enough not to notice the droplet of blood that came from the knife his mother had just shoved into his ear.
“Can you spell-out fuck you now Johnny” his mother said.

CRAIG

The incessant knocking at the bedroom door abruptly collapsed my dreaming.
Rubbing my eyes I looked up to see four girl scouts at the foot of my bed.
Before I could speak the tall one said ” it”s boxtop day, you promised to help.”
Pulling the covers over my head I mumbled “boxtop day indeed,” adding “give me 2 minutes.”
Downstairs there were at least twenty girl scouts all staring at me. An amused Ellen handed me coffee pointing to the door, I mouthed “what no cereal?”
I motioned the drivers to head out, the great boxtop collection was on.

SOUGENT

He gazed down at the spreading pool of blood.
“A good breakfast is what you need”, he said, “not that powerbar”
She was asking for it, really, just like all the rest were.
The voices kept whispering in his head, telling him what to do.
He knows he should be sorry for killing them all, but the voices just keep whispering….
“Just follow my nose, it always knows”
“I’m koo koo for cocoa puffs”
Slipping a small box of Frosted Flakes under her hand, he mutters “They’re Great!”
“In other news today, the famed “cereal killer” claims a new victim”

THOMAS

Damn food nazis, been out of work for three years with no end in sight. The libs say we can’t sell to kids, but what about us, I mean, who’s going to buy a vacuum from an elf or a tiger? Sure, the Cap’n got a book deal and a cameo in the next Pirates of the Caribbean flick, but for most we’re just trying to survive. Bitter? Damn straight I’m bitter. Snap and Pop opened a gym, then said “threes a crowd, goodbye”. Bitches! Me? Well… maybe I could ask that annoying leprechaun to tend bar at his pub.

JD WHITE

John 316, fist bruised and aching, stood before the locked hatch.
The hot cereal of breakfast an hour before sat, a hard cold lump in his gut.
Tears that had formed now begin to seep from his eyes.
It had been a trick.
More than a trick, a trap.
His frailty and his fear of rejection used against him.
His brothers would, if they had not already, report his transgression.
They would be rid of him one way or another.
John 316 saw clearly that he had failed the Word.
Turning, his hands trembling, he grasp the ladders first rung.

TERRENCE

As the zombies continued to shuffle by Raoul and the witherhunch, Raoul thought about the event of the past few months. In its first draft the “good” book had described all the warning signs. However, it continued to amaze him on how badly the book had been edited over the years. He had not been the only victim of some priest’s edits. Maybe, if they had been a little less selective they would have recognized the sign when the podcaster spread out into other things; but who would have thought that cereal.isfullofcrap.com would bring about the end of the world.

LAIEANNA

I’m a half ass low carberer. Eggs, meat, cheese, and vegetables are the staple of an Atkins diet and even that requires limits. Eggs now make me nauseous. Meat easily grosses me out. Cheese I like but there is only so much you can eat in a sitting. Oh, and vegetables get really boring to chew on. So, on this diet, I crave things that I didn’t care about when I was fatter. Fruit is a treat and chips are salty goodness. And for a poptart, strudels kid, cereal sounds like heaven. Pour me a bowl of Raisin Nut Brand…please.

HOTSPUR

I grin as another spoon of Museli enters Aunt Doris’ gaping maw.
There you are.
“I love you, Woodrow” she bleets, mouth brimming with EuroCereal.
I grin at her. Carefully, now. Chew with mouth closed, Auntie. We don”t want an accident.
She chews, blank eyes unfocused. Dribble of milk down one side of mouth. Hodgson enters with juice and a red rose on a tray. He is brisk, obsequious. He serves Auntie, slowly raises and glances at me with a look of mingled loathing and hatred. I grin back, pleasantly.
There you are, Auntie. Another Bite?
“I love you, Woodrow”.

MIKE

The man always marveled at the variety of cereals. Puffs, pops, flakes, little donuts and – his personal favorite – sugary ABCs. His mom always said, he had learned to spell just by pushing the little letters around in his bowl for hours on end.
The emergency horns’ blaring finally stopped, but the strobes still flashed. Taking another look at the legs sticking out of the hopper, he popped a glazed uppercase “Q” into his mouth. Sure, it could be dangerous working here, just like working in any other kind of factory, he supposed. He couldn”t imagine working anyplace as tasty, though.

CALEB

In the mid seventies General Mills tried replacing Lucky the Leprechaun with Waldo the Wizard. Lucky had been making unreasonable demands in his contract negotiations. How they expected a cereal company to enslave Donna Summer in the first place, was never explained. He got into Frankenberry and before long he and Toucan Sam got banned from all the Hollywood clubs. Tony the Tiger said, “You”re Wasted! You Better get to Rehab!” After rooming with Sonny who was coo coo for crystal meth too he eventually came out clean and sober only to be replaced again, this time by a cartoon.

PLANET Z

I’m sure there’s people out there who envy the fact that I get breakfast in bed every morning.
Best thing to wake up to, right?
Not around here.
You see, instead of bringing me coffee and bacon and waffles and pancakes and maple syrup, she throws a box of cereal in my face and yells at me to wake the fuck up.
God, I wish it was like the old days.
Sure, there wasn’t any coffee. Or bacon. Or waffles. Or pancakes.
But, man, was there maple syrup. And where it was, I’ll leave that to your imagination.
Bon appetit.

Weekly Challenge #105 – Taboo

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And 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 selected by Evamoon, who is going for broke with…
It’s Taboo.
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):

CALEB

Alright fellas, listen up! This bread is my body. And this grape jelly, this is my blood; my sweet, congealed blood. And this peanut butter is my uh” my holy spirit? Put them all together like so and”
mmmm” I am DELICIOUS!
Wow, you have got to try this!
“but uh Jesus, we can”t have bread right now, it”s Passover!”
Oh come on, that old taboo? Don”t be so superstitious, Pete.
“But Jesus, won”t your father smite us?”
It”s the holidays, I got my boys right here, I”ve got this awesome sandwich, what could go wrong?
“Praetorian Guard! Open up!”

ALMO

Traffic on the beltway was a maze stuffed with hundreds of rats. The civic cut me off to move three car-lengths. When I got beside him, I flipped him the bird and felt better.
The bar was hot and crowded. They guy next to me elbowed my beer, sloshing it on my shirt. “Asshole,” I said. I felt better.
The convenience store line crawled. The kid in front of me was turning out his pants pockets looking for change. “C’mon,” I said, finally exasperated. “You’re holding everyone up.”
I felt better. Then he turned around and shot me.

GUY DAVID

Here at Taboo unlimited, we concentrate on creating the most modern and up to date taboos, ranging from technology driven superstitions to new age health food misconceptions. Right now, we are working on a very special set of taboos, ordered especially by a wealthy martian tycoon. We use the latest technology to create this taboo that makes people think robots are immoral and deplorable. It’s amazing what you could do using social networking and other web 2.0 techniques. It works like clockwork, only, we just discovered clockworks are the weapon of robots. I think we might be done for it.

TOM

Maria set the easy bake in front of the steamer truck. Allan opened the lid to reveal wafer upon wafer of titanium conductors. “Here”s the deal Mave we will bleed the time goo you got in that tin into the Hub and up to the topside. It”ll take about 35 years. According to the Book it”s got a steep draw back, major fertility drop.” “What”s this going to cost Allan?” ask the wearier time travel. “Inter family mating.” Cervantes Victorian sensible heaved at the breach in taboo. “In fact you might want to leave a little something before you go.”

TERRY TEE

Launch Director Haroldson pushed his secretary’s slim body off his, wrapped a towel around himself, while turning up the sound on the TV. He heard the announcer speak of substandard workmanship and materials as being the main causes to the Phoenix’s demise. All of which, where traced back to the Chinese manufacturing plants that had won the rights to building the spacecraft’s landing module.
Well, that was nothing new, he thought, but as everyone knew, the current administration had made it taboo to criticize the Chinese in order to gain their support and their money for the mission to Mars.

EVAMOON

“I thought they”d be round, like apples!”
“Better than apples,” came a languid reply from the branches.
She peered into the dense foliage of the tree, trying to make out the
sinuous form hidden in the shadows. The branches were heavy with ripe fruit.
Her hand barely reached around the long, fleshy cylinder as she plucked it.
Its bulbous end released an unfamiliar aroma that filled her head.
“Would you like to know how to properly enjoy the fruit of this tree?”
She hesitated for a moment, but her appetite was stirred.
“I really shouldn”t.”
The long body uncoiled and rose. “It will be our little secret.”

PLANET X

As he paced along the HMS Resolution deck, Captain Cook stared at his first officer and shouted, “It’s tapu to eat that damn fruit?”
“No sir”, Lieutenant Clerke responded, “The chief said it was taboo or forbidden to eat the fruit from the sacred tree”
“Taboo or not, that fruit is essential to preventing scurvy amongst the crew, why look at Old Murduck Mahoney on the last voyage” Cook replied.
“Sir, the chief said, no one was to eat that fruit, and sir, they don’t have the taboo of making a sandwich out of me or you” Lieutenant Clerke replied.

John 316 steps into the corridor.
Behind him the hatch, with a quite click, slides closed.
His calloused feet absorb the cold of the steel deck as he shivers in the darkness, eyes adjusting.
To his left and right pitch black meet his searching gaze.
Before him, illuminated by the dull red glow of a bulb in the overhead, a ladder stretches upward into darkness.
The boys, his brothers, in cratch 17-C-34 had taunted him because of his frailty.
They had always forced him to their will.
Now they had dared him.
He had broken the first taboo.

CRAIG

Ellen glided through the patio door without a sound till she was almost touching me.
Placing her hand on my shoulder she turned me to gaze deeply into her eyes, her hands then grabbed my collar pulling me closer.
With her silken honey voice Ellen said “engage me”.
Normally I reveled in her little challenges, I mean what else could create such delightful friction in my life.
This time however I was unnerved even a bit frightened as I sank deeper into her her eyes.
Ellen repeated “engage me” her words invited me on a road I knew was Taboo

THOMAS

” A screamer, she had to be a screamer”, John thought, looking at his new bride. Providence gave him her so he could bless her and she him. He believed this marriage was ordained of God, but she didn’t seem to . Only eleven she’s a woman sooner than his other wives, however youth was no excuse to resist.
The Prophets knew. He knew. Soon she too would know the truth, submitting to him as unto God.
She sobbed as he wiped the blood from her mouth, gave her a long kiss, then forced himself onto her, eager for the next lesson.

STEVEN

Samantha always knew the exact location of the door. She knew the
ways to exit any room. She knew when to run, when to hide, when to
agree, when to be silent. These lessons were her mother’s gifts.
His rampages were a time for silence.
She did not flinch as bits of smashed vase skittered across the
kitchen floor. The vase was her mother’s. A shard came to rest
against her toe.
She looked up at him, angry in the kitchen doorway.
Samantha always knew the exact location of the door.
She also knew the exact location of the icepick.

DAPHNE

Thing that are taboo down here aren’t on the surface and some the things that were taboo up there… well no one really cares about anymore. You just need to learn how things are different and respect the society we have going here. Most of our taboos are about personal space and privacy. We welcome all new comers, we are very happy you made it here safely. Just treat ever living creature down here with respect and you will fit in okay. And I mean every living creature… do you get that? Yes, even the rats and mice.

ANIMA

Crudites. Chateaubriand. Cheesecake
Sumptuous meals are her waking thoughts. Savory dishes she would eat, once she could fit into her wedding dress. It would mean so much to mother.
Mum was aghast when Sandy ballooned to a size 6. All those summers at fat camp, for naught. Never mind that Chick Corea could trade licks with Gary Burton on her ribcage. Or that she broke her ankle slipping thru the sewer grate.
Sandy pulls her feeding tube to go puke again. She’d look good in that Vera Wang confection, even if it kills her.
Only 5 more pounds”

LAIEANNA

Big city, little light, and a whole lot of people moving around.
Momma squeezed my hand tight as she dragged me through the crowds. We
raced past drunks and browsers, and pushed through groups watching
street entertainers. The best attracted the most, only having to
compete with the shocking. Like Naked Art, a group of unclothed men
and women who did things to each other right on the street. All the
appalled people couldn’t stop watching. Momma whisked me away as fast
as we had come to them, but I promised myself one day I would come
back for more.

MIKE A

“…and so, Jarrod Rasmun, by reason of your repeated
and willful violations of our people’s strongest
taboo,
this council finds you guilty of violating the honor
of our village. The ancient penalty for this crime is
– death.”
“Most High Chief, I respectfully submit myself,” and
here Rasmun motioned to a nearby slave, “represented
by…”
“Not this time, Mr. Rasmun,” the elder interrupted.
“Your contempt for our laws and customs is clear.
Your
previous transgressions have cost five men an eye and
a hand each; it is they, who will carry out your
sentence.
You see – matters of honor are always personal.”

SOUGENT

Body parts lay scattered around him.
Zombies are tough customers all right, they keep coming even when all that’s left of them are pieces.
With a crunch, he stomped on a disembodied hand that was attempting to climb up his pant leg.
What a mess. At least he didn’t have to worry about the locals making a fuss, zombies were taboo in this neck of the woods, there would be nothing said and shortly after sunrise there wouldn’t be any sign of this conflict, the locals would see to that.
He’d sent a pointed message tonight, but would anyone listen?

PLANET Z

It’s game night tonight, but we can’t decide on a game.
I want to play Monopoly. But nobody ever lets me be the banker.
My wife’s got great eye-hand coordination, so Jenga’s her choice.
Bobby knows all sorts of useless trivia, so Trivial Pursuit’s his game.
And Little Suzie, well, she’s only six, but what a mouth she has on her! I don’t know where she learned all she knows for playing Taboo, but she hasn’t lost a match yet.
This is how fights start.
I guess I’d better fill up the pitcher and get out the quarters again.

Weekly Challenge #104 – Zombies

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And 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 selected by , who is going for broke with…
It’s Zombies.
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 M

The great leviathan with her, barnacle encrusted, titanium platinum alloy hull, lurked beneath her prey. For centuries automated systems kept the great beast functional. Her crew long dead.
Mindless, Soulless, and without remorse, the powerful zombie of the deep, targeted the yacht. The yacht shuddered a second, as steam and light came from below and tore it asunder. Debris drifted around it, as the hulking monster receded back to the deep to recharge.
The search continues but the warm Caribbean waters had claimed another victim. Meanwhile in the inky depths of the ocean an ancient terror recharges, repairs and waits.

MIKE A

I was really starting to hate autumn. The reddish
leaves were pretty, but since I usually saw them
only at night, I preferred them brown; it made it less
difficult to move unseen through the woods.
No, the problem was this: autumn always saw a major
increase in the number of zombies, almost like
some bizarre perversion of Spring. I almost have to
double the number of traps, which cuts into my
sleeping time. Unfortunately, you can’t cut into the
‘reproduction cycle’ by just eating them. Some
of my fellow werewolves had tried, and no good had
come of it.

JOEL H

Slow, shiftless, lifeless meat sacs roaming aimlessly without a purpose. One is young, thin and never stops smiling.
The other is old, brittle and cannot move without pain. The third is flawless even in his current state; the envy of the others.
The fourth, once a big hero in Houston is now a lifeless corpse floating in the Hudson. The fifth, a man once so strong he could move mountains, i
s tired at the thought of merely eating brains. You look at these men, defeated, dead and without a purpose and you must ask yourself”
what happened to the Mets’ offense?

HOTSPUR O’TOOLE

Phosphorous, the old man said. Their bodies generate phosphorous when they have finally collapse from hunger. I don”t care. They have always resembled giant glowing mushrooms at night. Cleanup duty isn”t too awful, once you get past the stench. Kind of peaceful. I just keep my bandana tied tight under my nose and wear my steel toed boots, in case of wrigglers with intact jaws. Tonight was a surprise. Old Mrs.Garrigus, the den mother. I remembered. She had turned in the middle of a pack meeting. “Ain”t that a kick in the head”, I mused, reaching for my axe handle.

GUY DAVID

I was just about to wrap up things at the office, when Barney went by me running and chased by a zombie. Now, it’s not everyday you see your coworker being chased by a zombie around the office, so this aroused my curiosity. Now ” where did this zombie come from, who bit who? Was this zombie bitten by his girlfriend in the middle of some steamy sex? Ooh, think what a damper this could put on his sex life. Maybe he was bitten by a salesman. Now ” this would definitely kill his insurance deal. That’s what I call sloppy salesmanship.

STEVEN THE NUCLEAR MAN

Hush. Do not say another word.
You stand out. You are not dressed like them – no suit, no power tie, no
flag pin. They swarm downtown during the day. Nighttime is safer; they
shelter in their homes.
I can pass among them. I can rattle off last week’s scores and the
contestants on the reality TV shows. You have to talk in soundbites, not
analysis. Are you stupid? They will eat your brain if they notice you.
Damn. My co-workers. Follow my lead.
Bobby! Yeah, shame about last night. We were just talking about who got
voted off, right?
Right?

CALEB BULLEN

In Haiti, zombies don”t eat yer brain like in de movies. In Haiti, de zombies are real. In de old time dey used to work as servants or mebbe in de plantation. Now most zombies sit in de cubicle writing SPAM or tech support. I got one zombie he do me taxes, another designed me website, “voodoo warrior dot com”.
Course we keep our zombies docile by filling dem with drugs and mind numbing messages so dey work and work without tryin improve dere situation. How you keep yer zombies workin? Budwieser? McDonalds? Lindsey Lohan as News? Just Like Haiti!

TERRY TEE

Bizroc and his wife walked along the tunnel with the satisfaction of full stomachs for the first time in many months. Like every worship day, they had joined their neighbors, marching like zombies, silently down the tunnel toward the worship hall.
They continued to march, getting closer to the meeting hall, becoming increasingly aware that something was different today.
Maybe different wasn’t the correct word, they were in for something special, special and profound, from the sounds of the choir.
Bizroc wondered if it pertained to the earthling, as he and his wife had found so sweet and delicious.

DAPHNE

I went to the surface today. We needed supplies. It was night and I stayed in the shadows but I watched out for the ‘Zombies’. They aren’t really Zombies, not the walking undead, but more like humans who after it happened… well they kind of died inside. If you looked at their eyes, there is nothing there, just a vacant stare. But never look at them, if you ever see one, hide. Find a dark corner, alley, open manhole, some place dark and stay there being very quiet and very still. Be very careful, you don’t want to be caught.

PLANET XRAY

I lie awake at night thinking of love I have lost because of what I didn’t say.
My first love came early in life, Pamela, and at a time when we could be carefree, with the whole world out there.
We would spend afternoons on those cold, winter days, next to the fireplace listening to our LPs.
We would have them all stacked up on the stereo spindle ready to go, The Beatles, Turtles, and our favorite, The Zombies.
The rhythm of our love keeping beat to the Zombies’ music.
Now all lost, because I didn’t say,
I Love You

ELISSON

When he first awakened in the grotto”s gloom, a spasm of pain in his side jolted him to his feet. That was when he realized how desperately hungry he was.
Where was he, anyway? All he could remember was being lifted high, being stabbed in the side, the taunting voices. His hands and ankles ached; in his mouth was a lingering taste of vinegar.
Standing up, he could barely see the rock blocking the exit. Ignoring the agony in his feet, he pushed it aside.
Out in the desert sun, all he could think was: I”m famished. “Bra-a-a-ains…” he moaned.

ANIMA

Zoe has slipped from the realm of the living.
Once, she was a caring, vibrant woman who volunteered at the shelter .Now she worries if she can get a manicure Tuesday.
Maury Povich is her bokor. Hooked on “Hard Copy” and “A Current Affair”, Zoe has lost her consciousness. She is a Psychological Zombie.
But I can’t let her go..
I know I can help. Given a strong enough emotional connection to the mortal world, zombies can break the trance. Kidnapping Zoe’s parents wasn’t enough. This time, I’ll take drastic measures on her lapdog.
Eventually, I will succeed.

TOM

Vapors squeezed from the steamer truck gather about Quatermain”s moustache. Cervantes noted Allan looked older as if something was finally wearing him down.
“What happening here?” asked Arnesto.
“You dear Cervantes. Your little journey through time has had dire effects. When you bleed time the body caporial loses blood to the brain. So many of our best and brightest have succumb so many Time Zombies.”
“Zombies ” that”s why life is in the sewers.”
“Yes it something about higher levels of moisture. It”s a bloody miracle the nightingale got you to the Hub.”
“The easy bake is our only hope.”

HEDGIE

Ever since I became a zombie people have been saying to me “Bob, you’re acting really weird”. Sure, I enjoy the taste of brains now and then. And yeah, I’m technically dead but really I’m just a monster. Honestly though, I’m still a regular guy. My friends and I just saw a movie at the mall. We’re all getting a little hungry though. Hey there’s Tom! We used to work together. I think I’ll go over and say hello. Maybe see if he would join us for a bite to eat.

Of a morning one of them comes into my room and hands me the Clozapine in a small paper cup.
At noon they call me to lunch where they hand me the Risperidone, also in a small paper cup.
In the evening, when the darkness returns, they give me a new paper cup with new pills inside.
They will not tell me what the red and blue pills are.
Sometimes they don’t catch me when I hid the pills under my tongue.
Later, in the early hours of morning, I cry.
Zombies can’t cry, or laugh, or smile, or feel.

LAIEANNA

Civilization was wrong. The zombies aren’t mindless. They just had a
change in taste, and I agree with them. A good chef doesn’t pass up
any unusual or exotic ingredients for their dishes. When the world
was handed to the zombies, I was ready to serve them with heavenly
meals. My restaurant is perfect with a basement kitchen and closed in
steel serving area. Getting past the diners for groceries and fresh
meat is the hardest part. That’s why I always welcome survivors to my
sanctuary. Never keep your customers waiting for long by keeping a
good stock of food.

TERRENCE

Raoul watched as the zombies crested the hill in the distance headed in his direction. At first the group was small, but more continued to pour over the hill. Now off to his right a hand reached up and then soon a human figure dragged itself from the ground.
The zombie looked at Raoul, it’s jaw hanging from a few strands on flesh. Its right hand nothing but bone and a large hole in its chest through which you could see its slow beating heart and the small witherhunch. The good book never described resurrection of the dead like this.

SOUGENT

As he waited, the sweat trickled down his back, the humidity of this “tropical paradise” closed in around him like a soggy blanket. In the darkness, a cacophony of noise burst forth from the jungle, but that would all change when “they” came, the living did not take kindly to the creatures he was waiting for. The cessation of noise would be his first sign that the zombies had risen from their earthen abodes and were on the hunt. Their task for the night? To kill him.
But he was ready for them, tonight the hunted would become the hunter.

PLANET Z

We’re in here. Zombies are out there.
I’d like to keep it that way.
Not Duffy. Every night, he sees his wife on the monitors.
“You’ve gotta let me save her!” he says.
No. Even if he finds her, there’s no cure.
“I don’t care,” he says. “I made a vow. I’m going out there .”
There’s a difference between In Sickness And In Health and Till Death Do Us Part.
Guilt drives people like Duffy mad.
You see, those cameras were disconnected weeks ago.
Which is a good thing, because I didn’t have to see Duffy swarmed, taken down, screaming.

Weekly Challenge #103 – Steamer Trunk

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Welcome to the Weekly Challenge Number One Hundred And 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 selected by Daphne Abernathy, who is going for broke with…
It’s Steamer Trunk.
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):

STEVEN
(The background sounds were from Metamorphmuses at the Freesound Project. )

“Are we supposed to be up here?”
The third attic stair squeaked before I answered my sister’s whine.
“Mom is gone for the afternoon. I am bored and in charge until they get
back. So yes.”
The attic was full of Grandmother’s old stuff. Here there was a stack of
yellowing magazines, there were some musty papers and old books. Under it
all was the prize: Her old steamer trunk, blackened with age and oil.
“Bobby, I heard Grandma was a witch.”
Pandora Spyros, Grandma’s name, was written just above the latch. I ignored
my sister and opened Grandmother’s box.

TOM

The horizon of London was as still as death. Maria and Cervantes moved passed Bishopsgate. They were play connect the dot using the ever iconic nightingales, beck left, beck right. “I think were here.” Said Maria. Beck down. They pried the manhole cover and started down the vertical stairs. At the bottom of the shaft two shadows took form and demanded a password.
Cervantes replied, ” pierce the hallow of thee ear.” The men grunt and led them down the sewers. After an hour the quartet was standing in front of Quatermain his foot resting on a venting steamer trunk.

DAPHNE

We don’t have many luxuries down here. The dampness destroys most things. Leave a book out too long, the pages become swollen and warped. Photos stick together. Clothes get musty and moldy. I’m lucky, I thought ahead. I pack my few treasured belongings into an old steamer trunk. It was designed to keep out the moisture. I have a few photo albums, some favorite books, extra clothes and a music box. I can’t play it as often as I’d like, it would draw attention from above, but when I feel brave I wind it up and let it play.

TERRY

Bizroc happily scurried into the kitchen, amazed at the good luck of his hunting mere minutes ago.
The earthling had been so easily confused; Bizroc had hardly appeared when the earthling froze in his tracks, unable to move.
Then, it had been so easy, no thick armored skin like any of the local animals, one swipe of his fangs and he had enough meat for both him and his wife.
While he thought of his good luck, Bizroc put the large chuck of meat into the Steamer Trunk to let it hydrate and cook, they would be eating good tonight.

GUY

It looked like an old treasure chest. As we entered the attic, the old steamer truck grandma hidden away glowed slightly. “We shouldn’t be here” said Judy, “What if your grandma comes back? I’m afraid of what she would do”. “Oh, relax”, I said, “She’s hanging around with that Lony. They won’t be here for a while”.
As we approached the old chest, I noticed the box had what looked like a face, and it was smiling slightly.
Suddenly, we heard the door opening, and my grandma was standing there, then she smiled slightly and turned Judy to a frog.

The auction was at the old warehouse at the end of Cunard Rd.
I had read in the paper that there would be many unopened bags and trunks.
I stood with my bid stick and watch as small leather bags and large suitcases were sold.
I bid and was out bid throughout the day.
Near the end only a few people remained when the Steamer Trunk was wheeled out.
Old and beaten the trunk called to me.
I bid and won.
It smelled of mold and mildew.
On the tag handwritten in fading ink were the words.
Southampton, England, Titanic.

PLANET XRAY

Jack opened the Steamer Trunk, quickly stuffing the Nightingale Sister’s limp, lifeless bodies inside. Throwing in the red rose, he lost sight of the petals against the blood soaked dresses. Using rags, he wiped up the rest of the blood and tossed them inside also, locking the Trunk.
His hobby so easy; there were so many young ladies who believed that young men wanted nothing more than to be in their company and spend money.
Dragging the trunk slowly down the stairs, he opened the door and tossed the trunk into the underground river, to a life in the sewers.

SOUGENT

The plan was foolproof, its execution was perfect, nothing could possibly go wrong.
The steamer trunk was ready, large enough you could stuff a body into it.
It wasn’t much of a struggle in the end, shortly after the cake was delivered, the coup de gr”ce was also.
It was quite absurd, really, to believe he would be much of a challenge.
He reached up and brushed some cake crumbs from his lapel, shook his head sadly and closed the lid of the steamer trunk which now contained a jumble of parts, the remains of one slightly ambitious robotic butler.

EVAMOON

Alma shut the lid and punched in her code. Again. When she opened the box,
it was still empty. Damn infomercials! It was supposed to be the best new
thing to solve household storage problems. Using the new transdimensional
gateway technology, you could fit all your stuff in a box about the size of
a steamer trunk. All coded for instant retrieval. Except now it wasn”t
giving anything back. Anything that went in was just gone. And the tech
support lines were disconnected.
Alma stood, dusted her hands, and called to discontinue her garbage
collection service.

CRAIG

Her thoughts got lost in the the neighborhood as she walked.
Lead paint pealing, washing into the gutters mixing with fluids from obnoxious realms, flowing into their taps.
Yellow and gray floating in and out of apt windows, children”s lungs tattooed with rust.
Sally pushed through the fear, sweat beading like pearls on spandex.
Hurried little laughs echoed from doorways.
Inching her stilettos over the smooth cobblestones Sally felt people watching her, following her.
Opening the door to her grandfathers old factory. Holding her breath unlocking the steamer trunk, reaching inside with one quick motion, pulling out her Teddy Bear.

ANIMA

The dapper secret agent stands up in front of the large steamer trunk. Quick footsteps are heard receding in the tunnel below.
“Artie, I have to go after Loveless””
“If you don’t stop him Jim, he will use the Ultrasonic Reverberator to destroy the railroad trestle. The President and all the European ambassadors will die!”
“Train of fools”” mutters Jim.
Jim stomps his boots; knives shoot from the toes. He lowers himself into the trunk, front-pointing into the mine shaft.
“And Artie, could you change into the strumpet outfit” that green dress does bring out your eyes…

TERRENCE

Dropping the dead bird it landed with a thud next to the old wooden box. Raoul gave the box a kick. It started to click and shake. Raoul watched as it got louder and louder until it climaxed with a short quiet pop.
The bird slowly stood and looked up at him. Raoul punted the bird across the field out of sight. He couldn’t believe that people all over the world searched for the box. Sure it had it’s uses, but it wasn’t like they would ever believe that this ragged looking steam trunk was the Ark of the Covenant.

PLANET Z

The Blue Fairy gave Pinocchio the gift of life, but with life, comes the curse of pain and death.
Gepetto warned Pinocchio that life was a lot more dangerous for a real boy than a little wooden puppet.
Pinocchio laughed. “I’m not made of wood, Papa,” he said. “If I put my arm in a fire…”
To this day, as he looks down at the trembling child, cowering inside of a steamer trunk and begging for the lid to be brought down again, shutting out the horrors of the outside world, Gepetto regrets ever having carved that block of wood.

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