Weekly Challenge – Page 88 – The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Weekly Challenge #82 – Fear Of Flying

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Welcome to the eighty-second Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Michael.
It’s Fear Of Flying
Whew.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

PAUL

Hello, my name’s Bob and I have a problem
[Hi Bob!]
I have this fear of flying.
[What the heck? What did he say? What’s the deal? ]
Which! … Which is why I drink.
[Oh! Okay! He’s one of us, after all. Okay Bob!]
I’m a Consultant. I live on the west coast and work on the East! I have to fly!
But I can’t fly without drinking! One after the other! Calling the attendant for more and more!
[Yep! Been there! Don’t have to fear flying for that! Hard to walk to baggage!]
Then I can’t sleep after drinking all that coke!
[Coke! He’s no Alcoholic! Throw out the Bum!]

LINDA

Frank was stuffed into the Toyota. At Seventy-five MPH it sound- ed
like a beehive. The toll traffic was unbearable. Work sucked.
Suddenly a seagull swooped down in front of his windshield.
Man, he was staying ahead of the car! The bird’s feet were just
touching the windshield!
Frank pulled himself up rooting! This was Frank’s whole problem! A
fear of flying, of braking away and striking out. He could do it!
Screw this commute, this job! You Go Bird!!
Boom! An explosion of feathers. Two stuck to Frank’s windshield. The
bird veered into a truck. 7:59. Late. Work sucked

TOM

He was shaking like a leaf. The stewardess noted the white knuckler in C35 motioned to the head fight attendant. Tom’s new job had him flying regulars to LA for 30 and 60 second spots. It wouldn’t have matter if he taken a train car or rickshaw the devastating motion sickness would have gotten him. It was the curse of his Kingdom and that first ancestor Herb. “Why had that fraking Gnome got himself fired?” he thought. Tom Tomato Plant lost it when the head steward offered him a Snap Toms. Lucky the stewardess had a vegetable barf bag ready.

LAIEANNA

Jimmy purchased a parachute and modified it with a smaller harness
attached to the front for his daughter. He then spent hours
practicing the whole scenario of picking her up, strapping her in,
jumping free of danger and debris, and pulling the cord.
On the big day, Jimmy strapped a helmet on both their heads and held
his daughter’s hand while waiting in line. He was terrified; she was
excited. When their turn came up to board, he made the sign of the
cross and hoisted his daughter into the Carnival’s Miniature airplane
kiddy ride and climbed in behind her.

GUY

The world of open source change is coming
Have no fear of flying
Fragments of human imagination
Caught in a twilight zone of virtual innovation
It’s the golden age of creation
Sweeping through the Second Life nation
Shaking furiously with anticipation
As I crush out of this world of expectation
There’s no denying there is some sort of a revolution here
But the wheels of steel are moving to slow for the kill
The age of open code and sharing is coming
There is no denying that
In a whirlpool of sweet creative melody
Comes the age of enhanced communication

DAPHNE

Standing at the edge of the nest, Stanley looked back at his mother.
She nudged him gently toward the sky. He opened his wings, felt the
wind rush past them, he looked to the horizon, he envisioned himself
soaring with the other eaglets, but he couldn’t move. He was an
eaglet with a fear of flying. He knew he had to conquer this fear or
become food for the beasts that dwell on the ground. So he unhooked
his talons and jumped from the nest…and then… nothing… Stanley woke up
and realized You can’t soar with the Eagles when you are a Turkey.

CALEB

when they came together, zippers fell away like rose petals, underwear
blew off in one sweet breath like dandelion fluff. Her mind was a whirl,
was this the mythical a plus zipless f**k or was it just the Maui Wowee
this guy had brought with him on the Braniff flight from Amsterdam.
Either way, her mother always told her to ‘eschew the ordinary’ and this
Randolph Mantooth look alike was anything but ordinary. She eschewed him
out the door before her husband got home, then Erica Jong fired up her
fancy new bong and began writing the fear of flying.

Sometimes, you’re such a fuckup, you need divine intervention to keep you from being too much of a problem to others.
So many people out there in the world, stands to reason there’s a backlog of cases.
Standards for guardian angels have dropped significantly since Biblical times.
For instance, my guardian angel is afraid of flying.
“How can you be afraid of flying?” I ask her. “Don’t you have wings?”
“I don’t you sticking your tongue in light sockets,” she said. “You have a tongue, right?”
Okay, so maybe she said something other than “tongue” but you get the point.

Weekly Challenge #81 – Six Way Tie

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Welcome to the eighty-first Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Mike
It’s pumpkin, ghost, squirrels, blue smoke, the Gates of Hell, lime, time, rhyme, and orgasms
Whew.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

GUY DAVID

I was standing at the gates of hell. I was a ghost. There was no doubt about it.
They say that hell is what you make it. For me it was a couple of squirrels, rousting some pumpkins with lime. It was an orgy of naked bodies, endlessly entering each other, in and out, in and out, but without being able to reach orgasms. It was devoid of sensation, maliciously suspended in time and space. We could go about it until blue smoke came out of our asses, but nothing would happen. It just wouldn’t rhyme. A six way tie.

TOM

When Pumpkins dream it’s a fiery sight. Flaming Limes held in check by a ghostly light.
Citrus and Squash hurling with all their might
Against the Gates of Hell lintels red posts white
The dances of Pumpkins and capers of Limes take flight
In dream time and ghost time in the blue smoke of night
With reason and rhyme we mark their gathering blight
For it is pies we will be baking and ghostlings they will bite
Its pumpkin time before the ghostly gates of key lime hell
So ends this squirrelly rhyme
So begins a midnight of sugary orgasmic delight

JUSTIN

As Joe walked through the gates of hell, he watched a lime-colored pumpkin release a puff of blue smoke.
“What’s that for?” he asked the ghostly squirrel guarding the gate.
“Means it’s time for Satan to get his rocks off,” said the squirrel. “If you see it, you have to report to Satan’s castle and give him an orgasm.”
“Oh, f***,” said Joe. “Can I get around it?”
“There’s a rumor that if you can tell him a really good rhyme he’ll let you off,” replied the squirrel.
“A sublime rhyme?” asked Joe.
“Try that one,” said the squirrel.

TERRENCE

Raoul stood at the Gates of Hell waiting for the kids. A pumpkin sat to his right the candle flickering in the wind. Raoul was always the one that got stuck handing out the candy. A Podcaster dressed as a nun approached. The Podcaster spoke and Raoul dropped in the lime; and under his breath he said “give it time.”
The Podcaster dropped to the ground, started to scream and moan. This continued for a moment and then there was a puff of blue smoke and the Podcaster smiled. A squirrel appeared from under his habit and whipped its face.

DAPHNE

Every year one house had the best decorations on Halloween. Most houses had simple pumpkins carved with Faces, Witches, Bats and the occasionally squirrels eating nuts. But this house had more. As you go up the walk up to it, there was a fork in the path. To the left you saw blue smoke, ghosts and flashing lime green light, you heard screams of horror, that sounded more like orgasms (or so I’ve been told) and there was a sign with that old rhyme “If you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime” and a gate with flames made out of fabric around it and on it said “The Gates of Hell” and there were 2 mean dogs barking at you. On the right side was Father O’Malley standing at a gate that said “The Gate to Heaven” handing out full size candy bars and Bibles. We might not get the message at church but we got it on Halloween. Heaven has chocolate.

LAIEANNA

Six way tie, it was. They encircled their tormentor, shooting him
till he fell dead. Inevitably, they all went down in the crossfire.
The whole squirrelly gang ended up stuck behind the gates of hell.
They squabbled about who really did the bastard in. There was Rhyming
Ellison and On Time Tom with Mysterious Blue Smoke Guy and Martini
with a Lime Twist Caleb. Even Pumpkin Rolling Houston and Oh The
Orgasms Laieanna were in on the fight. There was nothing better to do
while they waited for Ghostly Laurence to take his eternal revenge
with assigning another torturous challenge.

CALEB

The squirrel’s ghost was biding it’s time smoking a cuban cigar in the old hallowed out pumpkin while watching the teenagers boinking at lookout point. Suddenly a leg kicked out as the kids reached their orgasms they sent the squirrel’s ghost tumbling in a pumpkiny blaze down the hill.Then in a puff of blue smoke the ghost of the squirrel found himself at the gates of hell where a podcaster, Burroughs and St. Peter were drinking Lime Rickeys trying to think of words that rhyme with ‘merkin’. The ghost of the squirrel suddenly realized… he was in the wrong story.

PLANET Z has chosen to pass this week, and a Wacky Adventure of Abraham Lincoln will be recorded to fulfill the “Story a day until the day I die” pledge.

Weekly Challenge #80 – Garage Sale

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Welcome to the eightieth Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Chris Doelle.
It’s Garage Sales
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING

Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

MICHAEL

Shamus finally struck it rich. Allergic to any form of work, his past schemes and cons netted him but paltry earnings. Now, not only was he raking in money, he was contributing to a better world environment by recycling.
The magic word was “Garage sale.” It attracted bargain hunters with ready cash.
His success was that you bid on the total contents of his overstuffed garage. Old lamps, appliances, boxes and bags. Winner takes all.
Today, $1240, walked away with the lot.
Not as good as last week’s haul, but not bad for one little trip to the local dump.

TOM

The podcaster was getting pretty bored with this Dante crap.
So he pushed the bark away from the shore.
“75 cent for the next 5 minutes” intoned the voice.
The podcaster looked down to see a Halliburton change box.
“Frak this”
just as he was about to give the box a good kick
two near celestial being where deposited into the bark.
“Time to get out of Dodge” spit Burroughs
“Damn straight” say St Peter.
“Where we going” asked The Podcaster.
“In search of Garage Sales” chanted the boatmen.
“What?” cried Laurence.
“Hell it’s just the topic this week kid”

LAIEANNA

“New beginnings start with the shedding of our past. Garage Sale 10-4”
stated Libby’s sign. Two sisters of the order were helping,
identifiable by bald heads and potato sack clothes. New pupils of the
Enlightenment and Ascension Order, or as her ex-husband would say, the
short a few vowels cult, had to rid themselves of everything. For the
purpose they gave her, she gladly let go of hair and clothes. And now
she felt no loss for her belongings until the sale of a picture frame
with her children smiling inside reminded her of what she was truly
giving up.

GUY DAVID

Come on over, they are having a garage sale down here, every soul for a shekel. They have big souls and small souls, blue souls and red souls, fluffy souls and thorny souls.
I want a lollipop soul on a stick, one with extra sugar. Those are priceless and sexy.
You should check the couch potato souls. They are fat and comfy, and they wont protest either, so transfixed by images from the babble box that they hardly notice reality anymore.
There is a tortured soul. Look at it. It’s useless. Nothing to do with it now. What a waste.

PLANET Z

Excalibur, the Holy Grail, the Ark of The Covenant, – you name it, I’ve picked it up from some family trying to clear out an attic of a house they want to sell.
You see, people just sell their junk and baby stuff at Garage Sales.
Estate Sales, on the other hand, the person who valued the stuff is dead, knew it’s true nature, so it’s a relative trying to get rid of it for some quick cash.
They never know the value of what they’ve got. If they did, they’d be selling it at an auction house or keeping it.

Weekly Challenge #79 – Barbecue

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Welcome to the seventy-ninth Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Tom.
It’s Barbecue
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

WE GOTS PRIZES:
I will be sending the winner a prize… it’s refrigerator magnets for the podcast. Massive amounts of fridge magnets were mailed out in the past week… watch your mail, and let me know if I’ve missed you.
It is your voting that determines who wins. So listen, vote, and tune in next week to find out who won!

PAUL

The sound of the word makes my mouth water.
Smokey, greasy ribs, with the crusty burnt edges, brisket what falls apart when you look at it.
Spicy sausages so good they’re obscene.
A chunk of cheese.
Tearful slices of onion.
Wedges of pickles.
And Styrofoam bowls of BBQ beans, all washed down with a ice cold beer.
Sure, I know people what prefer BBQ Chicken.
I know a gal what orders BBQ Turkey.
But me? I am a purest.
I only eat the real stuff, slabs of meat smoked for hours, what drips in fat.
Except on Saturday. On Saturday, I’m vegetarian.

TOM

St Peter fired up the Weber outside the gates
Tennessee hickory gently glowing
pulled pork sizzled
bathed in Carolina ruby sauce.
“Nice barbecue” said Burroughs.
“What happened?” inquired Peter.
“A loaded banana” returned Burroughs.
As the hickory crackled a
melody rolled across the clouds.
“Rossini,” mused Peter.
“The Lone Ranger,” intoned Bill.
They both spun around yelling
“WILLIAM TELL!”
“Hi boys don’t forget to cook that slowly,” said
Joan Vollemer a Smith and Wesson pointed at Burroughs.
Her aim was no better than Bill’s
St Peter fell face first into the Weber.
“Hey Joan …” BLAM
Bill toppled over Peter.

HOUSTON KEYS

The things that had once been Frank and Jim waited. Even as zombies
they faced the question of, “What’s for dinner?”
A yuppie ran past. Frank looked at Jim. Jim tried to say white meat
was too dry, but all that came out was a garbled snarl.
A Chinese guy ran past but Frank didn’t bother, they would be hungry
again in an hour.
The Italian guy running past caused Jim to perk up but Frank hit him
on the arm. Italian food gave him gas.
Suddenly, Laurence Simon ran by. Frank and Jim looked at each other…
“Mazel Tov!”

LAIEANNA

“Dear chef,” said Ivan to the giant, “stew is very appetizing, but with a right blend of ingredients, a barbecue would make you eat like the king. I happen to have a mix in my bag. Let me lather myself in it’s delight. If I’m to be eaten, I wish to be eaten right.”
Compliant, the giant lifted Ivan, who went straight to work stripping and rubbing till he was bright red and slick. Grabbing and slipping, the giant gathered nothing but the tasty sauce. With sticky fingers, he couldn’t resist sitting and licking them while Immortal Ivan got away.

PLANET Z
“Come and get it!!”
“Dad?”
“Yes, son?”
“Why do we grill with mesquite?”
“Son, it’s something that goes back… way back to the days of the Bible.”
“Wow.”
“In fact, that burning bush that spoke to Moses… it was a mesquite bush.”
“Really?”
“After Moses got done talking to it and getting the ten commandments, the Bush was still burning, so Moses leaned those stone tablets together, gathered up some branches, made a smokeshack out of ’em, and made himself some mesquite camel jerky.”
“Dad?”
“Yes, son?”
“You’re so full of shit.”

Weekly Challenge #78 – Underpants

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Welcome to the seventy-eighth Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Elisson.
It’s Underpants
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

TOM

The Podcaster returned to the Styx. Burroughs’ back was to the Podcaster he was humming Going to Dance My Way to Heaven with a New Step Everyday.
“Bill,” whispered the Podcaster. Burroughs spun around he was wearing underpants on his head. “Still got that Apple, Kid?” croaked Burroughs. “No, I got this Banana and I’m not afraid to use it!” sneered the Podcaster pointing his herbal weapon at the literary outlaw.
BLAM went the Banana Burroughs fell over deader. He vanished off to dem pearly gates. The Podcaster aptly peeled the Banana and had a bit of his naked lunch.

CHRIS DOELLE

Johnny walked uncomfortably to the front of the classroom, sort of twisting his midsection with each step. His teacher had called him to read his report to the class. Of all the kids in all the classroom, why did it have to be him? Why did it have to be now? Johnny’s heart pounded. The pain was unbearable. His palms broke into a sweat as heavy as the torrent running down his brow. The teacher shushed his classmates as they tittered at his discomfort. It turns out sneaking an iPod into school in his underpants was a pretty bad idea.

GUY

We used to make edible clothing. I don’t know what went wrong. We had strawberry t-shirts, pineapple shoes and chocolate hats. They went off in the millions, no in the billions. Everyone wanted some. A real shopping rush. Then we came out with something brilliant, a line of tofu pants. Everyone wanted them. At least, so they keep telling me at marketing.
I think it’s the tofu underpants. That’s what killed it, you see, in Israel, underpants are considered legitimate pants. Imagine that: a big, fat, hairy guy, going around with nothing but tofu underpants, in the boiling sun.

HOUSTON

Johnny was uncomfortable as his recent change to thongs had some less than desirable effects.
“This dang butt floss is gonna to be the death of me,” he intoned, but fortunately Johnny had a level head he wasn’t about to panic. He would drive the ladies wild with the smooth view of his gluteus through his Wranglers.
Spying his first conquest Johnny bellied up to the bar (literally).
“Hey there little lady, how about you and me make some beautiful music together.”
With a wry smile she looked him up then down, then up again. “Did you bring your banjo?”

ELISSON

There’s nothing makes me want to dance
Like a brand new pair of Underpants.
The blue-haired ladies look askance
When I show off my Underpants.
They’re free of bees and flies and ants.
They’re insect-free, my Underpants.
I’m hypnotized: I’m in a trance.
Those mesmerizing Underpants!
Averse to risk? Why take a chance?
I wear my Safety Underpants.
Their silken fabric draws one’s glance.
Gaze, gaze upon my Underpants.
Like armored Knight with Battle-Lance,
I’m protected in my Underpants.
I dine on animals and plants,
Take meals in my Underpants.
Residing in my lordly manse.
I wear my lordly Underpants.

PAUL

I hated school. The jocks and the pops all kicked me around.
Yeah, I made grades. I’d have a job while they’ed be mechanics and cashiers.
Worthless if my future couldn’t get me a date.
Then the bionic-nuclear-genetic-engineered-automated-techno spider bit me.
I could toss cars! Stop crooks with a finger. Leap over buildings!
But strike fear into crime? No good.
Hooked up with mega-bust gals and mondo-Chin guys.
Nope. No traction. Still no fame, no glory, no… respect.
They told me what to do and I kept refusing.
Then one day I put on my suit.
Then last.
The underpants.

LAIEANNA

I apologize for not contributing to last week’s challenge. Though an
idea came to me, I lost track of time or lost track of my mind and
didn’t finish before the deadline. This week’s challenge should be
easy, but my imagination has been stuck on dull. I was working on a
story at work, but forgot to take it home on Friday. For new
inspiration, I took a jog around the neighborhood in my underpants.
I’ve since been arrested and no one will take my call. Please send
money. Spring me out.

YXES

Ohmygod! You can’t be serious! You want me to say this word out loud, for everyone to hear? Don’t you realize how embarrassed I will be if you make me do this???? I mean, I can say lots of things, but to say this word is like recounting something out one of my worst nightmares! I would much rather say bloomers, knickers, pantaloons, or even panties. I could even manage to say boxers or briefs! I simply won’t say it! You will just have to get some other poor sap to say Underpants! Ohmygod! I said it! Now I’m mortified!

PLANET Z

Ann Coulter wants to make me perfect.
Right-wing temptress, you’re not going to win this one.
She tries and tries, but I resist.
So, last night, she shows up on my doorstep, wearing nothing but a crucifix and that big crocodile-wide smile of hers.
“The things I can do with this, you wouldn’t believe,” she says.
And she wheels through the photos on her iPod, each image sicker than the last.
She stops.
It’s Al Franken, with his underwear on his head, totally blissed out.
Then I realize: he’s still Jewish.
If he can resist, so can I.

Weekly Challenge #77 – Tangent

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Welcome to the seventy-seventh Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Planet Z .
It’s Tangent
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

ELISSON

Marvin was notorious for his short attention span, but the sun-bronzed toff in front of him at the checkout had firmly captured his interest. And not in a good way.
The George Hamilton lookalike had crammed himself into the express lane with well more than the mandated “Ten Items or Less.” And Marvin, Cashier-of-the-Month, was steamed.
For once, instead of suffering in silence, he let Mr. Hawaiian Tropic have it.
His invective-filled tirade went on for ten minutes, causing its target to slink away shame-faced, ashen.
Years later, the bag-boys reminisced: “Remember when Marvin went off on that tan gent?”

GUY

I would give anything to hear the sound of a tangent, stroking a string. My cell is dark. Light doesn’t like the company of the likes of me. I used to be a prodigy, a master of the clavichord. Now I’m just a shadow, locked in a cell.
They called her Baby Faced Angel. It happened during one of my blackouts. I don’t remember a thing. They say they found one of her hands down the alley, still clutching the string of my old guitar, same guitar I’m loosening the string of right now.
See you on the other side.

TOM

The Podcaster found himself walking in the clouds. He was still clutching a deep fried burrito. The last thing he remembered was the Houston bus, now he was stand next to the pearly gates. “I think there’s a mistake here?” said the Podcaster. Saint Peter looked up and said ” Your right. You are suppose to be at the river Styx with William Burroughs.” He grabbed the burrito and handed him an apple. On arriving in Shell Burroughs yelled “William Tell” and shot the Podcaster. Reappearing in Heaven Saint Peter shook his head muttering “Damn Tangent” handed him a banana.

PAUL

1. I notice a line touching a circle. What’s the word?
2. I work with words day after day….
3. Sometimes I hate work.
4. Well, I don’t really hate anything or anyone.
5. Hate’s easy, but it takes strength of character to forgive.
6. I used to design characters and fonts for some of the first digital printers.
7. Though you have to wonder if everything in life isn’t really digital
when it boils down to it.
8. Boiling ideas down helps me concentrate on the concepts.
9. And when I concentrate hard enough, I can see my progression of thought.
Nine thoughts.
Nine…. Tangents! That’s the word!

MIKE

Theres just something incredibly annoying
about those individuals who find
themselves monologuing, completely oblivious
to distracting tangents. Unwilling even
unable to maintain their focus.
When referring to focus of course
you think of photographs. Here
however, pictures of grandma, no
matter how sentimental, have no
bearing. And yes, we love
grandma, but her house smells
funny. don’t expect to laugh
though. This isn’t Carrottop funny,
this is who ate a dusty
burrito funny. Thats rank!
So lets rank staying on
subject a little higher, and
try to stop obfuscating issues,
instead using trenchant verbiage that
keeps tangents to a minimum.

CALEB

The tan gent’s tangents about the Plantagenets
Were the height of irrelevance on the subject of elephants
But once back on track we knew he was whack
When he told us that elephants sleep on their backs
With their tails in the air and nary a care
Cause they fear the night’s air on their large derrieres
He said the morn’s dew makes the elephants poo
And that thrice in this poo he had lost his left shoe
But I don’t think that poos could have made him lose shoes
It must have been booze
Man this lecture’s a snooze!

MAD BARD Z

My little Laplace Lolita… you can count on Susie Rickenbacker to always get off on a tangent.
No. Really. She has a thing for trigonometry.
Her eyes roll back. Her hand slowly goes under her desk.
When the bell rings, she gets up, smooths her skirt, gathers up her notes, and walks out that door with a little wobble to her step.
She sits on her sweater, so the seat’s never left damp.
She’s going to be a senior this year.
AP Physics. AP Calculus.
May need a little extra tutoring, her advisor says.
Tutoring. That’s what we’ll call it.

Weekly Challenge #76 – Ramadan (Fixed)

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This is an updated version of the Weekly Challenge that includes Elisson and Tom, which were borked by gmail.com issues. My apologies to everyone who’s voted so far… the polls have been reset.
Welcome to the seventy-six Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Caleb Bullen of the Black Tie Martini Club.
And it’s Ramadan.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

MAD BARD Z

When Ramadan rolls around, my coworker Mohammed fasts during the day.
As the month drags on, he gets more and more irritated and angry.
I asked him why he puts himself through this. What is this all for?
He said that by denying the body nourishment, fasting is supposed to help focus the mind and the soul on spiritual needs.
“Oh,” I said. “I hope it’s working, because from my perspective, it just makes you cranky.”
Then he said “Aren’t you Jewish? Don’t you fast for your holy days?”
I thought for a moment. “Um… I’m supposed to fast? Oops.”

GOMEM

Ramadan, I dread ramadan, my car is always getting blocked in by
hoards of friggin’ taxis, as we have an office next the main city
mosque. I shout out “will you please move them friggin taxis”, all I
hear is “Allahu Akbar” in return. No I dont need a bloody taxi ride,
all I want is just to get my car out.

PAUL

In 2030 we program people. – memory inserts. Put knowledge, memories, the habits of greats onto a chip, and insert.
Normal becomes genius.
And better, people actually add knowledge, experience … great, ever towering brains built on silicon platforms.
What to do about Kreach Don?
Trained in Iraq, the old fashioned way.
Turned Serial killer — kids, mothers, girls, businessmen… even florists!
We don’t kill.. torture
What to do, what to do?
We build a special chip, a Read Only Chip. Fill it with all kinds of memories, very unpleasant, very punishing. Never changing, always fresh.
Then we ROM a Don.

HOUSTON KEYS

Muhammad Smith was famished. The fasting of Ramadan was a rough time for him.
He came across his buddies Muhammad Jones and Muhammad Lee. “Salaam Alekum Muhammad and Muhammad.”
“Alekum Salaam, Muhammad,” came the reply.
“Guys, I don’t know about you, but I am dying here, I would KILL for a pancake!”
“Hey Muhammad!” All three of them turned to see the newcomer, “Muhammad Muhammad al Muhammad racing across the street to meet them.
“Oh crap!” Muhammad said, “It’s Muhammad again.”
“I don’t know what is up with that guy,” was Muhammad’s reply. “He tries too hard, what an overachiever!”

GUY DAVID

– We learned about Red Man month today.
– The Red Man month?
– Well, Tati says that when the Red Men month comes, you can’t eat for the whole month and you pray to that man in pajamas that he let you eat, then he gives you an explosive belt and you can win 72 virgin, I don’t know what those are but I think they are also explosives and it’s fun, fun, fun.
– I think I’ll have a talk with Mrs. Tati. I don’t think she should be teaching you this staff.
– Daddy, can I have an explosive belt for Christmas?

CALEB

Ramadan Dan
He’s the Ramadan Man
He brings the joy of Ramadan
Wherever he can
He brings toys
To all the little boys
To the girls he’s mean
Because they’re unclean
He’s Ramadan Dan
The Ramadan Man
He brings the joy of Ramadan
Wherever he can
He knows you’re hungry
And you’re cranky
He’ll take pictures of your wife
And over them he’ll spank he’s
Ramadan Dan
The Ramadan Man
He brings the joy of Ramadan
Wherever he can
While you’re starving
Just for Allah
Won’t you give this
Man a Dollar?
Ramadan Dan
The Ramadan Man
“That’s not Funny!”

LAIEANNA

Fasting with purpose was Stan’s idea of impressing the health club
ladies. Most did it for health. He would have a religious
experience. After half-ass research into different belief systems,
Ramadan was picked because the month was coming up and no one he knew
was doing it. It still allowed eating at night, and he could
enlighten women to his cause during long hours at the gym. It was
decided till Bill informed him that intercourse from sunrise to
sundown (Stan’s peak action hours) was prohibited. He changed to
Buddhism. After all, the gym was only good for one thing.

TOM

Nurse Philps keep a watchful eye on Dr Actma. The intern was a double threat to Nurse Betty’s patients. The first concern was Doctor Ali’s 16 hours shifts. The second and more pressing was it was Ramadan. Nurse Philps trailed behind Dr. Actma as he made his rounds take note of any notation on a patient’s chart. If correction was needed she gently suggested it. As Ali moved across the floor he hear Betty laughing. “What now?” asked Ali. “Mrs. James is not scheduled for a prostate exam and most assuredly Mr. Juliet isn’t in need of a hysterectomy today.”

ELISSON

He stood on a promontory overlooking the Ross Ice Shelf, surveying the desolate ruins. His tears froze on contact with the cold air. Antarctic summer was very different from summer in the desert where he had grown up. An involuntary shiver seized him.
The training camp had been set up in a remote location so as to avoid the omnipresent Allied sweeps. It had worked – for a while. Who would think to seek al Qaeda here, of all places?
Ramadan had been their undoing.
A month-long daylight-hours fast was tough in the land of Midnight Sun. Only Ibrahim remained.

Weekly Challenge #75 – Popeye, Movies, Reflection

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Welcome to the seventy-fifth Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by a committee of three: Elisson, Chris, and Caleb.
That’s right: Popeye, Movies, and Reflection.
And people actually wrote stories about all three. Imagine that.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

CALEB

Popeye sat alone in the theater after everyone else had left. No matter how many times he watched The Seventh Seal it always left him uncharacteristically contemplative. He thought of death and how it had long been with him. There beside him when he fought the goons on Goon Island or when he accidentally killed Bluto saving Olive Oyl; beside him when he couldn’t stop Sweapee from falling off that girder. He became suddenly aware that death in the flesh was sitting right next to him in the theater and that now he too must go.
“Well Blow Me Down!”

ROBIN

Knowing life’s reflections would be enhanced by spinach, I carried a fresh bag and an some Popeye movies to this hospice admission.
His gray appearance faded fast, mocking me with “Yuk, Yuk”.
“This is it, huh?”
“No, Popeye. The beginning.” I moved his pipe stably into crinkled lips.
After paperwork signing cartoon characters up for hospice, we discussed children who secretly admired him through adulthood. Gently massaging his weakening arms, I whispered “goodbye”.
Suddenly, his demeanor changed. Another patient discharged from hospice due to improvement. Children’s hopes, spinach, and the stabilized pipe ignited him into a superhero.
Hospice is amazing.

TOM

Hi Kids is time for the Movies?
Noooooooooooooooooo
Its Thimble Theatre Time
With all your old friends
Olive Oyl
Harold Ham gravy
Castor Oyl
Popeye
and Bernice the Whiffle Hen
That reminds me kids
want to get your very own
Whiffle Hen good luck charm
just like the one that Popeye
uses in his weekly adventures?
All you got to do is mail in 40 box tops
from that breakfast of Champions Wheaties
in the bright orange box found across
the land in local A & P stores.
Tonight’s exciting adventure is called
The Cure of the Reflection Pool

GUY DAVID

There was a sound like thunder, then a reflection, a bright overseeing light and a strange clicking noise, then a rift was opened in the space-time continuum. Through the rift we could see a broken umbrella that looked like an elephant, an old orlogin clock that always chimes on the 13th hour, an old movie starring Robin Williams as Popeye and an old man with a black robe, wielding an axe that looked like a feather, then, the storm was over, the rift closed, and a new day was born, right between Saturday and Sunday. We called it Warfday.

ELISSON

The sailor walked down Main Street, occasionally catching a glimpse of himself reflected in a store window. He moved with a peculiar gait, swinging his ridiculously muscular forearms, hitching up his pants fore and aft with each step.
Years of salt beef, biscuit, and grog had blocked his bowels such that only an exophthalmos-inducing strain could clear them. For him, Popeye was more than a name; it was a way of life.
But today he was happy, for he was planning to take Miss Oyl to the movies. And, he thought, perhaps one day she’d be his wife, Olive Eye.

I saw a movie at a Drive-in in 1970.
It was called “Reflections in a Golden Eye”.
It stared Taylor and Brando.
It had a lot of yelling, a lot of guzzling of booze and a lot of sex talk.
Even got to see Liz in a white slip.
That was before both she and Brando got fat and old.
I am not sure that I remember much of the movie, except for Liz’s bare back, because they showed a Popeye cartoon before the movie and I keep getting the plots confused.
I seem to remember Brando eating spinach.

LAIEANNA

Alright everyone, let’s settle down. Today we are going to watch a movie.
Hey kids! It’s Popeye! I wansta talk to you about something very
important called self esteem. Self Esteem means having confidence in
who you are. Do yous get picked on in school for the things yous wear
or the way yous talk? (speech impesiment) Does bullies push you
around cause your hair is different or you wears glasses? (oh ah four
eyes) Well, just remember that no one’s the sames. When yous go
home, look at your reflection and says to yourselves… I amz what I
amz.

MAD BARD

Leaning against the mirror, his massive forearms bulging, Popeye stared at his reflection and sighed.
The days of Segar’s cartoons were long gone. His star had faded, trailers and hotel suites on location were now communal bathrooms in the back of the porn studio.
As long as there was a market for nostalgia-minded perverts, the movies would be made.
And they paid.
Popeye washed his face and walked back to the studio.
Sure, Bluto was ramming his co-star from the other end and she looked like she had beachballs strapped to her chest, but it was better than nothing, right?

Weekly Challenge #74 – Prunes

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Welcome to the seventy-fourth Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Elisson of blog d’Elisson and he chose: Prunes.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

CALEB

Floating along upon balloons
You’ll see them sometimes at the dunes
Nestled in among the loons
Vikings carving runes on prunes
To chase away those raisin goons
The ancient magic of dried fruits
Noblest of all pursuits
Were singing raisins really cute
Or maybe created by suits
No! They were terrifying brutes
Nearly destroying all mankind
Insinuating in the mind
Of those to sights like magic blind
Helpless as an old melon rind
On which those raisins cruelly dined
But Viking prunes all carved with runes
Protect us all from home to mall
Safe in the street
Thanks to Sunsweet

CHRIS

When it came to food council adverts, Brad Thompson was a genius. Beef, it’s what’s for dinner. The incredible, edible egg. Got milk? All his, all brilliant.
So when the National Prune Council decided they wanted to improve their advertising presence, who did they call on? That’s right, Brad Thompson.
Just one problem. Brad had a stroke last year. He’s pretty much fully recovered, except for the uncontrollable, involuntary swearing.
We told the Prune Council about Brad’s condition but they insisted on him anyways. Oh well, I hope they like Brad’s campaign idea:
Prunes: you’ll shit like a fucking horse.

GUY

The king loved his apricots. Everyone knew that, that is, everyone except the new servant who brought him prunes by mistake. The king was furious and the sentence was immediate, “of with his head”!
Jasmineyna, the servants’ wife, was furious. Now, you don’t want to anger a sorceress, especially not one of Jasmineynas’ skill level. In the morning, they found the king with an apricot tree growing out of his gut, and… very much alive. In the end they just left him there.
They say the king is still there, living off his apricot tree. He really loves his apricots.

TOM

When they remove your wisdom teeth
they give ya codeine for the pain.
It dulls the hurt quite nicely.
The trouble is it works a bit too well.
It stops everything.
The prevailing wisdom to keep things flowing is
to use the magic bullet of constipation: The Prune.
On day three after extraction I was on a express bus
half way between San Jose and Santa Cruz.
The lower intestines gurgled twisted and pulsed.
I held tight tears filling my eyes.
When the bus reached the station
I leaped off and dash for the john.
The experience was nearly religious.

Prunes?
Laurence, what has gotten into you.
In trying to jump start my internal processes I have read a bunch of the 3,421,276 net entries concerning prunes.
So far, no luck.
I have been setting here, in my little thinking room off the hall, for the last 6 days attempting to flush out 100 words with Prunes.
This week prunes have done nothing for me.
You would think at my age prunes would do something.
Come on Laurence, do you really think that Prunes are something that can help keep podcasting.isfullofcrap.com on a regular schedule?
OOPS, Got to run now.

TERRENCE

Raoul looked up as his brother entered the room. He carried a glass
filled with a dark liquid. “What is that?” Since the whole pink is
the new black thing he had seen his brother trying on wigs, getting a
manicure and even going on a diet.
‘Prune juice’
“Why?”
‘I just realised that I’m not regular. I cannot even remember going
to the bathroom.’ He tipped the glass and drained it. The prune
juice splashed against the floor between his feet.
“You do realise that you do not have a stomach.”
‘What does that have to do with it?’

LAIEANNA

Growing up changed Charlie in a lot of ways. His health especially impacted how he saw his factory. This resulted in his products not holding the same quality as his mentors and it showed in sales.
Rather than revert back, he decided to, once again, open the factory to five lucky children. Tickets were randomly put into his merchandise and sent across the world. He then waited and watched.
Months later, the five were gathered, all senior citizens. Apparently his ChocoBrocco Bars, Caramel Covered Prunes, and Celery-Marshmallow Whips had a market.
The tour was just waiting for a few wheelchairs.

DAPHNE

When Little Tamara took her bath, Mrs. Kirshner would sing to her. She sang a song that made Tamara worry. She worried that just like a prune she would be covered in wrinkles all the time. When Little Tamara saw her fingers and toes start to wrinkle she begged her mommy to let her out of the tub. One night Little Tamara saw her mommy drawing the bath and there was steam coming off the water. Tamara began to cry. She was afraid that was turning into a prune.

YXES

Every year it was the same scary mansion, the same tattered ghosts, and the same creepy and disgusting gags to make the little kids squeal. This year, however, there was one small addition, a “tar pit”.
While the parents waited anxiously for their little sweethearts to emerge from the fog unscathed, one dad yelled, “There’s the tar pit. I hope they get across it okay.” Everyone giggled knowingly.
They slipped, they slided and soon were covered in the sweet, sticky ‘tar’, laughing and giggling the whole time. Suddenly a mom shouted, “Oh, good grief, these children are covered in prunes!”

The lesson for the day in the Robotics Lab was transformations.
I started simple: “Grapes become raisins.”
“How is this?” said the robot. “Do they not also become wine?”
“Yes, but this is through a process of drying. Like plums becoming prunes.”
The robot pondered: “I do not know what a prune is.”
“They’re dried plums.”
“What are they used for?”
“Making you shit easier,” I mumbled.
The next day, I walked into the lab and discovered that the robot had filled his carapace with prunes.
“I still cannot shit,” it said weakly, circuits ruined by the acidic plum juice.

OTHER CRAP:
If Garf isn’t too annoyed with my constantly screwing up the call to the show last week, well, I’ll be trying to drop by his High Tech Texan Show on Saturday to give a report on stuff, things, and this-and-that.
There a way to write reviews for this podcast in iTunes and other directories. I’d appreciate any and all reviews of this podcast.
Your Mostly Fearless Leader doesn’t command you to do so, but he is somewhat whinily cajoling and imploring you to do so.
Let a tiny slice of the world know how much you like or don’t like or could care less about this not-quite-so-bold endeavor.
Thank you.

Weekly Challenge #73 – Lighter

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Welcome to the seventy-third Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic.
The topic this week was selected by Caleb Bullen of the Black Tie Martini Club, and it was: Lighter.
The excellent theme music is by Guy David
SOMETHING NEW
Due to popular demand, I am going to include stories that were sent to me, but without a recording. However, since the midget has left for sunny Coral Gables, Florida, those stories will just be posted in the show notes. You’re more than welcome to vote for them, but they will be ineligible for prizes or topic selection.
I feel that this is a fair balance between the podcast and blog natures of this content.
Feel free to share your thoughts on this decision in the comments, and we might possibly come up with an even better and more fair policy for handling these kinds of situations.
VOTING
Go ahead and listen to them by clicking on the grammophone thingy there in the left column and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

ELISSON

It was a pleasure to set foot on dry land: my mood was more elevated than it had been in weeks. Recovering my land legs after stepping off the flat-bottomed barge that had taken me ashore was no easy task. I was giddy!
Having subsisted on ship’s rations, I had lost considerable weight. Happily, this made it easier for me to dodge the wharfside traffic, nimbly avoiding lorries and carts. I darted into the tobacconist and purchased a celebratory cigar, one with a milder flavor and paler wrapper than my usual.
Bedam! I had no device for igniting my cigar!

JERRY

The lightermen loaded the lighter with the light boxes from the dimly lighted hold of the lightly loaded ship and lightly pushed off toward the dock by the light of the moon.
The light lighter rocked as a light breeze pushed the lightly disturbed water into light waves against the lighters light hull.
The lightermen used the light ores to lightly steer the lighter across the harbor toward the lightly lit pier. Once in the warehouse the lightly armed police lightly steeped from the shadows.
What else could they expect.
They were smuggling contraband lighters into a smoke free city.

GUY

– I had my stomach pumped this monday.
They took out an electric guitar,
They took out a half used car,
They took out a lawnmower,
They took out a torch thrower,
They took out a wheel,
They took out some still,
They took out a baby,
They took out a lady,
They took out a song,
They took out something wrong,
They took out an old or login,
They took out a large evergreen.
I feel much lighter now, I can hop around like a happy kangaroo.
– Randy, when are you going to fix that hole? We just lost another goat.

TOM

It’s not easy being a celestial host. For one thing you don’t get a name or gender. He was just Incandescent Being 4830175/b. He became John after discovering John Wayne movies. The hyper analytic beings near him pointed out perhaps Marion would have been a better choice. Things got really dicey when John saw City of Angles. He sauntered over to God to get the skinny on this fall thing. “Well it’s not really a fall,” said God “It’s a float.” After millenniums of effort John final figured out the floating thing. It was just a matter of getting lighter.

LAIEANNA

By 18, Chad was a burly man, but also very simple. His size and strength kept down the teasing when he was a kid and even won him a group of rough and tumble friends. Growing up, they drank, fought, and dared each other to perform stupid dangerous stunts. This helped Chad become big, dumb, and tough.
At his first local concert, Chad wanted to celebrate with a waving lighter, like his friends, but had none. So he stuck his fat thumb into a nearby flame and shook the thumb torch in the air. Others screamed, he just yelled, “Freebird!”

CHRIS

I’ll never forget the day my good friend Andy Dufresne set the warden’s pants on fire.
While in his office cooking the books, Andy found the warden’s lighter sitting carelessly on the desk. Using his rock hammer and a pen, Andy punched a hole in the casing. When the warden tried to light a cigar, the lighter burst into flames in his hand. He screamed so loud every inmate in Shawshank prison heard him.
That evening, Andy was skull raped by a pack of horny bull queers, but he didn’t mind. All things considered, it was still a good day.

CALEB

Remember that old Alfred Hitchcock episode where Peter Lorre bets a Cadillac versus a finger that Steve McQueen’s zippo won’t light ten times in a row? I was thinking about that as I wrote my story. I rested my hand on an old paper cutter with the blade up, and flicked my zippo as I wrote. I finished the story on number 10. Would I win a Cadillac or lose a finger? When it lit, I flinched and down came the blade. That made me drop the zippo onto my notebook, destroying the story and my finger. Still… I won.

YXES

One dream haunted her day and night,
Relentless in it’s seducing call to her innocence.
She had already forsaken all of her friends and family,
Simply because she was driven by an unforeseen power she couldn’t deny.
She sits on the sun-warmed beach and loses herself in what she sees before her.
Big white fluffy clouds dot a bright blue sky
Marshmallow castles puffing up, floating in their majestic array.
Studying them, she is mesmerized by their pure definition and depth
She knows where she can find her perfect happiness.
Running towards them, arms held longingly upward,
She drifts to the clouds, lighter than a feather.

PLANET Z

Grace challenged herself to lose 50 pounds by summertime.
She hung a bikini on the refrigerator. Every time she went to get something to eat, she’d look at it, shrug, and eat too much anyway.
Her doctor prescribed some diet pills, but she only lost a few pounds with them.
So, she talked to a friend, who knew a friend who could get her something stronger. Much stronger.
When summertime arrived, Grace was sixty pounds lighter.
And totally bugfuck insane.
Sure, the bikini fit. Looked absolutely stunning in it.
Then they put her in a straitjacket and took her away.

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #82?
	Paul
	Linda
	Tom from Footnote
	Laieanna from Hodgepodge Point
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Daphne of Going Broke
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

What were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #81?
	Guy David of Guy David
	Tom from Footnote Podcast
	Justin from Justin’s Thoughts
	Terrence from Never Was
	Daphne from Going Broke
	Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Who had the best stories of Weekly Challenge #80?
	Michael from The Next Big Writer
	Tom from Footnote Podcast
	Laieanna of HodgePodge Point
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which stories were the best from Weekly Challenge #79
	Paul
	Tom from Footnote Podcast
	Guy David of The Sixteenth
	Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
	Laieanna from HodgePodge Point
	Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Who had the best stories in Weekly Challenge #78?
	Tom of Footnote
	Chris Doelle of Riding With The Window Down
	Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
	Elisson from blog d’Elisson
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Paul Snoe NANOWRIMO
	Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
	Yxes of Podmafia
	Planet Z

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Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #77?
	Elisson of blog d’Elisson
	Guy David from Sixteenth
	Tom from Footnote
	Paul
	Mike from Mike Thinks
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	The Mad Bard From Planet Z

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What were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #77?
	The Mad Bard of Planet Z
	Gomem DeSoto from The Gomem Show
	Paul
	Houston Keys from Tater Tots For The Masses
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
	Tom from Footnote
	Elisson from blog d’Elisson

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Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #75?
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Robin from Hospice
	Tom of Footnote
	Guy David from Guy David dot com
	Elisson of Blog d’Elisson
	JD White
	Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
	The Mad Bard From Planet Z

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What were the best stories of Weekly Challenge #74?
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Chris of Platypus Society
	Guy David of The Sixteenth
	Tom from Footnote
	J.D. White
	Terrence from Never Was
	Laieanna at Hodgepodge Point
	Daphne from Going Broke
	Yxes from Podmafia
	The Mad Bard of Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

Which were the best stories in Weekly Challenge #73
	Elisson of blog d’Elisson
	Jerry
	Guy David of The Sixteenth
	Tom from Footnote
	Laieanna from HodgePodge Point
	Chris from Platypus Society
	Caleb from Black Tie Martini Club
	Yxes of Podmafia
	The Mad Bard of Planet Z

Free polls from Pollhost.com

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