The 100 Word Stories Podcast Episodes
Ravens live a long time. Forty or fifty years, I’ve been told. They also make strong family bonds. So when they are old and dying, all of their family gathers around. A final tribute? To say goodbye. The old raven falls from the branch to the ground, thrashes his wings, and lies still. The others take flight, and circle above. One after the other, they fly off. Until there are no more. You barely notice it lying there. Until you hear the lawnmower choke. A spray of black feathers with the grass clippings. A brief, ghastly stink. Just keep mowing.
Be careful when you get a laugh at Mindy Felton’s expense. She’ll make you fill out an expense report. Those are a pain to fill out, because you have to itemize and justify every laugh. Don’t forget the receipts, either. No per diems allowed. Copy and attach them to your form. Then you have to get it approved. “Why couldn’t you get a laugh at your own expense?” management will demand. If you manage to get approval, then you have to deal with the taxes. Most accountants won’t touch these kinds of cases. Best not to laugh at Mindy at all.
If God has angels and saints, what does The Devil have? “Fallen angels,” says the priest, as he goes through his checklist. Bible. Crucifix. Holy water. The basics. A wad of cash for bail, spare phone battery and charger cord. A pack of gum comes in handy. Garlic, a gun loaded with silver bullets… those are strictly off the books. When you get to hyacinth petals for the Wookooloo, that’s where things get strange. “There’s shit from China and India that’ll make your eyes bleed,” he says. I nod, and do my best to hide my tail under my trenchcoat.
I was only four years old when Nixon resigned. And the Vietnam War raged on half a world away. For me, it was the summer after kindergarten. I never knew anything going on. Life was Sesame Street and summer camp. A tire swing in the willow tree. Catching fireflies in the evening so they’d flash in a jar all night long. An AMC Pacer in the driveway. Big Wheels in a bin by the garage. We couldn’t ride them in the street. We turned them upside-down on the sidewalk, worked the pedals, and spun the big wheel. All summer long.
I don’t understand the Army-Navy game. They say it’s a rivalry, but shouldn’t they be learning to work together? You know, because they should be working together to defend our country and kill our enemies. And why are they playing football? Or basketball? Or any other sport? Why aren’t they learning to shoot guns, fire mortars, sail ships, fire torpedoes, and fly planes? When was the last time we had to defend our country with a football or a basketball? Take off the football helmet, pick up a gun, and put on a combat helmet. And fight the real enemy!
I was morbidly obese, so I needed to lose weight. All you need to do is reduce calorie intake and exercise more. That worked for me. All of the fad diets are a marketing scam. Atkins diet, Paleo diet, South Beach diet. Someone comes up with a magical formula, and they get rich off of your hunger and suffering. The greatest scam was the Diet of Worms that King Charles recommended to Martin Luther. Several of Martin’s loyal followers died as a result of it, and it nearly led to his death, too. Did Martin Luther end up rich? Nope.
Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com. This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic. We’ve got stories by: Tom Lizzie Charlie Lacrosse Richard Jon Serendipity Norval Joe Jeffrey Planet Z TOM Always Just Out of Reach When the lights went out I found a girl under my beach blanket. “Who are you,” I asked. “River Moon Beam,” came the breathy reply. The darkness was drenched with Patchouli and Maui Wowie is was the 70s and sexual revolution was entering its death spiral and I had no idea on that starry night I was about to be become the last M.I.A. Moon Beam hand me bottle of Jack. I took a swallow, she drained it. It’s hard to make purchase in sand, but youth if nothing else is resourceful. Sadly there is no resource for alcohol unconsciousness. LIZZIE Late at night, no-one cared. A slow slumber took over and everyone was fast asleep quickly. During the day, things collapsed. The lamps that had existed for several decades inside the underground survival units were vital. They illuminated every corridor, every room. When the lights went out, Rachael desperately wanted to leave. They didn’t let her. The air, the ground, you can’t. She managed to escape and went to the old hut in the middle of nowhere where she had grown up. Only the ones who left the units survived. When she flipped a switch again, she felt ridiculously alive. CHARLIE As the sedan hit the tower, he heard her scream and the ear-piercing crash when the lights went out. He rushed to find her on the route home. When he spotted the crash, he leapt out, finding her in the car. She was burned to a smoldering pile of steaming Kimchi, and was still holding the cell phone. The impact of the car took down the fifty foot steel tower when her car veered off the road. When the thirty kilovolt lines broke away from the crumpled crossbars, they started a large grassfire that consumed her car and poor Leoliana. #2 When the lights went out, I fumbled around for the flashlight. Beverly had removed her bra and exposed her giant bosom. “No, no. Put those away! I can’t handle those now!” She teased me a bit, and folded them up and put them inside her top. Beverly was my love robot. Arriving from the factory in California in a crate, customized to my specifications, she was soon the envy of my friends in the local tech club. She was self-charging, five nine, had double hinged apertures, blond hair and was green-eyed. She liked to tease me and play practical jokes. RICHARD When the lights went out I did what everybody does when the lights went out: I blundered about in the darkness, bruising my shins and stubbing toes, wondering why the hell I couldn’t find my way around my own house in the dark. “Where’s the candles?”, I shouted, “In the basement!” came the reply, and it struck me at that moment what a profoundly idiotic place the basement was to keep candles. It was also where I stupidly kept the torch! Cautiously, I felt for the top step, missed my footing and went crashing to the floor below. And the lights went out again. Permanently! Permanently! JON The Absolute By Jon DeCles Power is easier to abuse than women’s bodies, or men’s bodies, or children’s helpless flesh. It is also more insidiously attractive than sex or food or fast cars. She knew that, and she had contemplated it from her earliest realization. She had never for a moment rejected even the shadow of her desire to gain power, and to abuse it to the fullest. That future was, for her, the most delicious. Politics, Law, and Medicine had all offered opportunities, but she had carefully chosen her arena to provide the fullest range of possibilities. She smiled, looking out over her students. What You Can’t See By Jon DeCles When the lights went out we all giggled a little and made dumb jokes about what you could do in the dark. When they stayed out we started to get nervous, being high up in a skyscraper. Things can go wrong. Many things. Should we stay put and wait, or try to walk down the aching flights of stairs? People grow fearful of what people can become under cover of the dark. People talk, and talk starts to breed terror. Our imaginations fueled pictures of horror in our frightened minds. It was much worse when the lights came back on. SERENDIPITY At first you were afraid, when the lights went out. And the fear grew as you became aware that you were looking down on your own lifeless body; the doctor, frantically pounding your chest; the machines sounding an unbroken, single tone. That’s when fear turned to absolute terror. And that’s when you heard my voice, reassuring and calm: “Walk towards the light. Walk towards the light” You turned and took one tentative step, then another, until you were running towards the light, and into my arms. And that’s when I turned out the light. And plunged you into eternal darkness. NORVAL JOE Unable to control his thoughts, Billbert rose toward the ceiling. Fortunately that was when the lights went out. Linoliumanda’s mother marched in with an snowy owl shaped birthday cake. “It’s time to sing to the birthday girl.” The distraction was enough to settle Billbert back to the floor before anyone noticed his levitation. They sang “Happy Birthday” and ate pumpkin ice cream with the cake. Billbert gave Linoliumanda, a tee shirt that said, “Twilight Sparkle is my Patronus”. She hugged it to her and said, “This is so cute. I want to wear it for our broom races.” Billbert gulped. JEFFREY Party Games by Jeffrey Fischer McKenzie’s latest party was in its full drunken glory by midnight. I stifled a yawn. Mac was a good guy, if a bit touched in the head, but I was too old for his nonsense and made my preparations to leave. “Not just yet, my friend,” Mac said. “Stay a few minutes. I promise you won’t be sorry.” When the lights went out, everyone in motion stumbled across a piece of furniture and the room was filled with expletives. I shook my head at Mac’s childish antics and thumbed the flashlight app on my iPhone to navigate safely out of the house. Mac called to the remaining guests, “Who’s up for a game of blind Twister?” and laughed manically. PLANET Z And God said, “Let there be light.” And there was light. God looked at the heavens and the earth. “What a mess!” he said. “I should have made light before I made the heavens and the earth.” God tried to fix his mistakes, but he was hoping to get finished with his project before the weekend, so he rushed things. “Shit,” muttered God, as he looked at the calendar. “It’s Saturday, and I’m not done yet.” So, God threw together man and woman, dropped them in Eden, and headed for the airport. “Watch these idiots, please,” God told the serpent.
Hi there. This is Laurence Simon of the 100 Word Stories Podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com. Every week, I post a topic for the Weekly Challenge, where you come up with the stories and I collect them up and share them. Want to give it a try? The topic of the next 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge is FLAY: Write a 100 word story on that topic. Then, send it in an email to isfullofcrap (at) gmail.com with the subject line of WEEKLY CHALLENGE. Do you have a website where people can learn more about you and your writing? Include the URL to that website. Also, suggest a topic or topics for future Weekly Challenges. Most importantly, include a recording of your story. Be sure to introduce yourself to the audience. If you hate the sound of your voice or can’t record your story for some reason or another, that’s your problem. Deal with it. I am not recording your story for you. Everything’s due by Sunday morning when I put the episode together. However, if you’re running late, I can put your story up on the feed in a separate post. Good luck, and as always… keep it brief. http://oneadayuntilthedayidie.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/thenexttopicisFLAY.mp3 AUG 5 Power AUG 12 When the lights went out… AUG 19 Flay AUG 26 PICK TWO Mask Pinprick Out of sync Grapes Rose Drive Print Darling Terminal SEP 2 Win SEP 9 Driver error SEP 16 Addictive SEP 23 Chaos SEP 30 PICK TWO Minefield Fountain Angle Craft Sodium Salute Engine Candle Case OCT 7 Dug OCT 14 Mystery OCT 21 Turtle OCT 28 PICK TWO Pagoda Winner Rustic Confusing Grinding Patience Arthur Crypt NOV 4 Dispute NOV 11 Braced NOV 18 Flower NOV 25 PICK TWO Bubbling Saffron Lime Axial Repetition Can Spaceship DEC 2 Too much DEC 8 Polar DEC 16 Belt DEC 23 Irritation DEC 30 PICK TWO Reflect Pounce Gymnastics Obsolete Engage Girls Easier BUILDING A POOL FOR 2019 corner adult jam judge delivery your lion unicorn transmission mug sharp stitch eaten pittance delete trumpet wordy kill why can’t you be more like your sister? confluence blinding blithering pony sparkle amuse emotive charge potato chips hire heart attack weaponize jack slurp
Recently, I was fitted for invisaligns. These are clear plastic trays that act like braces, but don’t use all that metal and rubber band crap. People can barely notice that you have them snapped in. The problem is, my teeth are yellow and stained. So people can see my yellowed and stained teeth. My dentist won’t bleach my teeth and replace my bonding until after the invisalign treatments are done. In two years. I asked if I could get white trays instead of clear trays. “Then they wouldn’t be invisaligns,” they said. “They’d be whitealigns.” I need a new dentist.
TS Eliot wrote famously that he measured his life out in coffee spoons. I’m sure this led to him being late to a lot of important meetings, crucial appointments, and dinner dates. How do you measure time in coffee spoons? Maybe he stuck the spoon in the ground and used it like a sundial. Or he threatened passers-by with his spoons and demanded to know the time. WHAT TIME IS IT? WHAT DAY IS IT? Now that I think of it, a man who threatens others with spoons isn’t very likely to get asked to all that many dinner dates.
I’ve found from experience that praying to solve a problem doesn’t solve anything. In fact, it makes things worse. Not just because praying wastes time that you could otherwise use to come up with a solution. When was the last time you solved a math problem with prayer? Pick up a fucking calculator, you dipshit. Not only does prayer not solve the problem, but it annoys God. He’s the Almighty Creator, not a third-grade math teacher. Add the five and the seven, carry the one. There. You got it. Save the prayer for something important next time. Like long division.
It’s amazing how quickly a preacher will turn from preaching love and brotherhood to revenge and bloodshed when you touch his daughter. Is she an adult? Damn straight, she’s an adult. The things she can do with her tongue… The hellfire and brimstone hypocrite reaches past his bible for the shotgun. Now’s not the time to tell him “She came on to me!” Now’s the time to run. Run like Hell. And if you want to pray, pray. Pray that he didn’t load it, or it jams. “Call me!” she shouts at your back, as you hear the first blast.
Even though you may think that it’s sexist to use the term “mailman” instead of the gender-neutral terms “mailperson” or “letter carrier” the truth is that no matter what gender ratios the Postal Service uses for hiring quotas, much like the clownfish and other unusual coral reef-dwelling species, the staff that runs delivery routes for letters and packages undergoes a metamorphosis which slowly transforms all of them into the male gender. The Postal Service denies any involvement, because the biological agents they force staff to drink is supposed to render their letter carriers into neutered, docile homonculi, not all men.
“Leave no man behind” isn’t the official policy of our armed forces, but they do their best to bring every soldier, pilot, and crewman home that they can. The obvious exception is when they get vaporized by nuclear weapons, as what happened when the North Koreans tried to reunify with the South. Or when the Russians let ISIS acquire a pan-dimensional energy source and they sent most of Libya to a parallel dimension. Ain’t nobody coming back. So, go ahead. Test this new light-speed spacecraft. If it works, great. If it doesn’t, you get an empty coffin at Arlington, okay?
Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com. This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic. We’ve got stories by: Tom Lizzie Richard Charlie Lacrosse Jeffrey Serendipity Norval Joe Planet Z TOM Eroica Power is over-rated. Not the stuff that squirts out the wall sockets to fire up your cell phones. That stuff is way cool. No, I’m talking about the force to direct the will of the masses. Raw, of times, evil actions who sole purpose it to show who’s on top. A reminder that there are big people and little people. Not talking brownies and fairies. Talking the folk who walk in marble halls. Funny thing is, in the end, even if you’ve walked in the marble hall, the last marble will reduce all your accomplishments to a hand full of words LIZZIE Walk forward. Don’t give up. Even when they say you are not worth it. Power. Even if they… Power… Pow… The robot stopped its roaming and blabbering. We all stared at it, expecting it to return to life as unexpectedly as it had started to move and talk. “Perhaps if we walk away and come back, it’ll start again,” someone suggested. But the robot didn’t move when we all did that, its arms awkwardly stretched back. We shrugged and walked away. The museum was big enough. The robot rotated its head slowly and reprogrammed the data in everyone’s chips. RICHARD #1 – Knowledge I’ve always been told knowledge is power, so I thought I’d try and prove it, and I’m ready to reveal my invention to the world. The first knowledge-powered vehicle! It was surprisingly simple to develop. There was no need to devise exotic new technologies; no messing about with dangerous chemicals or nuclear fuel cells; and the raw materials are all around us. It’s essentially a variation of the steam engine, using collected knowledge as combustible fuel. A couple of encyclopaedias will get you to work and back, whilst a university library will keep you going for a year or more! #2 – Super? I was a latecomer to the Marvel Universe… A minor character, written in to fill a gap on a storyboard. By the time they got to me, they were scraping the barrel for new superpowers: All the good ones had already gone to the X-Men, the Hulk, Deadpool, and all the rest of those A-listers. I suppose a minor, unremarkable character doesn’t deserve anything particularly special anyway, but I do think they might have made a little more effort for me. But here I am: Doctor Boring… And my super power? The ability to make paint dry, very slowly indeed. CHARLIE Power was delivered to the wheels through the Casemont confabulator. The spiral downdraft tube assembly provided the high octane oxidant to the Belkins oval-throat chambers at the side of the main assembly. We took our chances when we cooled and boosted both of the Merrymount thrust bobbins containing the spindle head valve jacks. We installed a dozen, brass, hand formed whipple cups for better lubrication, hoping to stabilize redundant lifter spin at high revolutions. The zenith of measureable output came the day we readjusted the Neiki spinners in the flux field, allowing more ribbons of plasma to enter the Merrymounts. #2 Normally I don’t talk about my power…my powers. I read minds, heal the sick, see the future, and I make an earthshaking smoothie. I keep a low profile, having been pestered by “friends”, relatives, and hangers-on. I exercise my powers inconspicuously and privately. Yesterday, I rode my bicycle past the clinic and cured eleven cases of skin rash and nervous leg. Today, I am buying winning lottery tickets and passing the winnings on to the local Vets Support Dogs club. Everything is anonymous, but I clip all the news articles and copy the Twitter posts and other social media posts. SERENDIPITY During the nineteenth century, the infamous – well, infamous if you happen to be a physicist – ‘War of the Currents’ raged. An epic battle between Edison’s direct current, which he argued was far safer than the alternating current favoured by Tesla, and championed by Westinghouse. It’s really all academic to most of us now: We just plug in, and play, and it matters little to us what form our electricity takes. I’m not bothered either. I just crank up the power as high as I can. Because agonised screams and burning flesh don’t care if it’s AC or DC! JEFFREY Home Renovations by Jeffrey Fischer Frank and Jillian’s house already had some years on it when they moved in a decade ago. Jillian wanted to update the kitchen. “New cabinets and countertops, new floors, maybe an island. Oh, and a higher ceiling.” Frank said, “Fine, I’ll do it myself.” “Really, Frank? What do you know about home repair? Let’s just hire a contractor.” But Frank insisted had had seen enough house-flipping shows to tackle the job. He removed the old cabinets, got a friend to help with the heavy lifting, and took down the tiled ceiling. Several electrical wires dropped from the space. “Hey, I wonder if these are connected to power.” Frank prodded the bare wire with his screwdriver. Jillian used the life insurance money to hire a reputable contractor to finish the job. NORVAL JOE Billbert stood up and set down his butter beer. “Wow. You’re really pretty” “Thanks.” Linoliumanda curtsied in her ballerina princess dress. “Here’s your magic wand. It has special power.” “Really?” Billbert took the wand and waved it. “Yes, really. Watch this.” She waved her wand at Billbert and said, “Windgardium Leviosa.” “No. Don’t,” Billbert cried. He knew that the only real power the wand had was the power of suggestion. In his case, the suggestion was enough. He knew the meaning of windardium leviosa. Though he fought to remain on the floor, his grocery bag began to lift him up. PLANET Z Dieting and exercise require a lot of willpower. To eat the right things, in the right amounts. And not to eat the bad things in any amount at all. Also, to find ways to burn those calories. If you don’t, then the problem solves itself, doesn’t it? You get sick and you die. Sometimes quickly, from a heart attack or a stroke. Sometimes slowly, from diabetes or some other disease. It doesn’t matter, really. When you gotta go, you gotta go, right? I know a guy who died from eating carrots and celery. Never mind that he choked to death.
Hi there. This is Laurence Simon of the 100 Word Stories Podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com. Every week, I post a topic for the Weekly Challenge, where you come up with the stories and I collect them up and share them. Want to give it a try? The topic of the next 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge is When the lights went out…: Write a 100 word story on that topic. Then, send it in an email to isfullofcrap (at) gmail.com with the subject line of WEEKLY CHALLENGE. Do you have a website where people can learn more about you and your writing? Include the URL to that website. Also, suggest a topic or topics for future Weekly Challenges. Most importantly, include a recording of your story. Be sure to introduce yourself to the audience. If you hate the sound of your voice or can’t record your story for some reason or another, that’s your problem. Deal with it. I am not recording your story for you. Everything’s due by Sunday morning when I put the episode together. However, if you’re running late, I can put your story up on the feed in a separate post. Good luck, and as always… keep it brief. http://oneadayuntilthedayidie.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/08/thenexttopicisWHENTHELIGHTSWENTOUT.mp3 AUG 5 Power AUG 12 When the lights went out… AUG 19 Flay AUG 26 PICK TWO Mask Pinprick Out of sync Grapes Rose Drive Print Darling Terminal SEP 2 Win SEP 9 Driver error SEP 16 Addictive SEP 23 Chaos SEP 30 PICK TWO Minefield Fountain Angle Craft Sodium Salute Engine Candle Case OCT 7 Dug OCT 14 Mystery OCT 21 Turtle OCT 28 PICK TWO Pagoda Winner Rustic Confusing Grinding Patience Arthur Crypt NOV 4 Dispute NOV 11 Braced NOV 18 Flower NOV 25 PICK TWO Bubbling Saffron Lime Axial Repetition Can Spaceship DEC 2 Too much DEC 8 Polar DEC 16 Belt DEC 23 Irritation DEC 30 PICK TWO Reflect Pounce Gymnastics Obsolete Engage Girls Easier
The old general used to give out his wristwatches as gifts. He’d take off his wristwatch and hand it to you, saying “Here, have this.” And you’d say “Thank you” like it was some Rolex. But they never were. They were cheap knock-off wristwatches. Most of the time they were broken. Or had a worn-out leather strap. Or something else wrong with them. But a gift’s a gift, right? It’s the thought that counts. Mine runs pretty well. Well, ran. Damn thing wasn’t waterproofed, and I wore it in the shower. Maybe I’ll give it as a gift to someone?
Hardware sores and department stores in the city are so expensive. Even the electrical outlet specialty store is out of my price range. So, when I’m looking for a new electrical outlet, I shop at the outlet outlet store. It’s in a mall outside of town along with all the other outlet stores for The Gap, American Tourister, and other brands. Except that instead of fashion, the outlet outlet store has great deals on electrical outlets. Sure, you have to pay a bit for the gas to get there, but if you’re buying in bulk, it’s well worth the trip.
Debbie and Marsha had the unexplainable ability to trade body parts. When Debbie sprained a wrist before a basketball tournament, Marsha swapped wrists with Debbie. And when Marsha had a rough period before a gymnastics tryout, they traded vaginas. Whenever one needed the other, she was there, literally lending a hand or whatever was needed. They found a lump in Marsha’s breast after she had a baby. Debbie underwent the double mastectomy for her. They take turns feeding the baby. After all, with the constant swapping between them, they’re not really sure which one of them is the true mother.
I wanted to buy a frozen pizza at the grocery store, but all they had was Mexican-style pizza from Red Baron. Isn’t the Red Baron a German legend? Why is he making Mexican-style pizza? And why am I buying a pizza from an enemy combatant? That’s like Hitler Sandwiches or Bin Laden Ice Cream. Mexican-style pizza, taking jobs away from American pizza. We should build a wall. Out of pizza. To keep the Mexican-style pizza out. And have the Red Baron pay for it! But then, it’s the Red Baron. He has a plane. He could just fly over it.
You do not fuck with the coroner of Smith County. You do not want him to tell you “You are dead to me.” If he doesn’t like you, he signs your death certificate, and you’re legally dead. You lose everything… your job, your bank accounts, your credit cards, your house, your car… Your life is dead and gone. And you’re standing there, watching it all happen, and you can’t do a damned thing about it. And nobody will help you, because you’re dead. The dead are beyond help. I can’t help you either. Because the coroner declared me dead, too.
The Democrats run primaries and caucuses to choose delegates to go to their national convention, and those delegates will select their party’s presidential candidate. But they also have superdelegates, who are party leaders and elders who can choose whoever they want to choose. The irony of the Democratic Party using anti-democratic election tactics is amusing. And inspiring. Because I’ve started my own party. It’s the “We know better than you” Party. Our primaries and caucuses are just meaningless polls and debates. Every delegate is a superdelegate. Because we know better than you. And if you don’t like it, fuck you.
Welcome to the 100 Word Stories podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com. This is the Weekly Challenge, where I post a topic and then challenge you to come up with a 100 word story based on that topic. We’ve got stories by: Tom Charlie Lacrosse Richard Lizzie Jeffrey Serendipity Jon Norval Joe Tura Planet Z TOM You Never Know Timmy was an Unfortunate Elephant. He never got the knack of marching in line with the other elephant in the circus. So regrettable the circus owner had to find someone willing to take him off his hand. In a small town in Iowa an elderly farmer spent a considerable time sizing Timmy up. After a fashion an agreement was reached, a fair amount of corn feed in exchange for Timmy. As the circus train pull out, Timmy shed a tear. When news of the circus train’s deadly destruction just outside of Chicago arrived Timmy was no longer an unfortunate elephant. CHARLIE My mug was the result of an unfortunate accident. There was an profusion of global grime and chemicals in the atmosphere. My poor, expectant mother was exposed to such pollution, as the official elephant tender at the town zoo in Cape May. This was determined to be the most significant cause for my deformity. My nose did not grow nor form naturally from the center of my face. It was more of a careless splat of flesh and gristle that “the dread designer” chose for me . I survived as a bit player in off-off Broadway productions of Russian playwrights. #2 I came to dread the splat I would often hear on the walk outside my tent. They would parade the elephant by every morning on the grime covered walk, as they strove to raise funds for the global unfortunate that were addicted to drugs and were usually gathered on corners in the city to beg for change with an undernourished dog and a Starbuck’s Mug in their laps. My time in Seattle as a volunteer was frustrating, as most of the homeless, drug addicted, and mentally deranged refused housing and counseling, preferring to get an airplane ticket home to Kansas. RICHARD Muck Okay, I know it isn’t going to go away… Let’s talk about the elephant in the room. I dread people asking how I became what Time Magazine called ‘The Self Made King of Dirt, Splat and Gunk’; because frankly, it was all down to an embarrassing mistake. I’d planned to go into organised criminal activity – a mob to rival, if not better, the Mafia. I even had millions worth of promotional material made up, like this mug. However, thanks to an unfortunate typo that wasn’t picked up by the proofreader… Well, read it for yourself: Richard’s Global Grime Syndicate’ LIZZIE Unfortunate Mug The fast plane took off with ahhs and ohhs of exhilaration. It was the inaugural flight of a new model. Heads of state, ministers, members of parliament, journalists, an array of dubious reality TV personalities, even football players were invited. Each received a commemorative mug to display at home for curious visitors. When the plane crashed, a few miles short of the airport, the horror was only surpassed by the relief that there were no casualties. Except for the mugs. Nobody cared for the mugs. And no one noticed that each mug had a little spying device. Close call, huh? JEFFREY Part 1: Battle Zone by Jeffrey Fischer The line “don’t take a knife to a gun fight” was never more accurate than the time I was robbed during the night shift at the convenience store. The guy sauntered in, asked for a pack of Kools, then pulled a knife on me. I handed him the contents of the till, but he had a surprise coming as I pulled my elephant gun from behind the counter. I say elephant gun, but it was really a toy modified to shoot elephant dung over the unfortunate victim. The police had to hose him off before taking him to the station. Part 2: Cleanup by Jeffrey Fischer I’m no idiot: I chased the robber out of the store and waited until firing the dung gun. Splat! It was a very satisfying sound. I knew I’d have to wash away the grime before the morning shift arrived, but hosing down the parking lot was much easier than washing any affected merchandise inside. Our customers weren’t the pickiest. Nonetheless, even they would have objected to dung-covered malt liquor cans and snack food bags. I made a mental note to gather more ammunition from my contact at the zoo before my next shift. I love the global economy! SERENDIPITY Two hundred years ago, there were around twenty six million elephants on the planet. The total alive today, is around one point nine percent of that figure. The majority: Hunted down, and killed for their ivory. Let’s turn that on its head and imagine that elephants hunted people for their teeth, instead. You, your family, friends and acquaintances would all, almost certainly have been killed, and this world of six billion human beings would number less than the population of Japan. Twenty years, and the last elephant will be gone. Far more sickening than any story I could make up. — Music credit: Louis Gordon – “The Anatomy of Melancholy – No Beginning and No End” JON DE CLES Swifter and Swifter Justice By Jon DeCles It was unfortunate they had decided to show his ugly mug on the global feed one last time. There was dread on his face, and grime, and he was as gray as an elephant. He knew what was coming. Yet he had persisted in his gross political crimes, opposing the rightful government of the unimaginably rich. What could he expect? The planet watched in fascination as he stood under the lights atop the tallest tower of the city. They watched as he was pitched into the pit, and watched in flashes as he accelerated downward ever faster, and then.. Splat! NORVAL JOE Dressed in a bathrobe, round rimmed eyeglasses and a mascara lightning bolt drawn on his forehead, Billbert approached the door, his stomach filled with dread. He checked the address, 36 Dancing Elephant lane, as the door opened. Mr. Withybotham glared at him. “I’m here for Linoliumanda’s party. It’s tonight isn’t it?” He held up the handwritten invitation. The man handed him a large mug of yellowish liquid, said, “Butter Beer”, and waved Billbert into the living room. He sat to the crinkling of his hidden plastic bag. Linoniumanda entered smiling like a myopic fairy princess wearing a single tennis shoe. TURA Global Dread ——— We used to call them terrorists. Violence from nowhere, to sow terror. They would be simple things. Set off bombs. Fly planes into skyscrapers. Drive trucks into people. Mail anthrax to politicians. But that was before. Before smart contracts, decentralised crypto, autonomous vehicles, and not-quite-human AI. Now, anything can happen, anywhere. Mysterious outbreaks of deadly plagues. Random assassinations. Rogue vehicles. Some say that terrorists give missions to autonomous AIs, and they spiral out of control. Others blame secret government agencies. But nobody knows. All they know is we no longer have shocks of terror, but pervasive, global dread. PLANET Z The global ivory trade is responsible for the deaths of hundreds of elephants a year. That ivory mug you’re drinking from? Yes, Dave, that’s illegal. The unfortunate grime you call coffee should be illegal, too. I dread drinking this swill. Tastes like the reeking splat from the back of an elephant. I’d throw it out, but I’d be cited for contaminating the water supply. Why can’t you just get a pod coffee maker like everyone else? Sure, brewing a whole pot traditionally is less expensive, but when nobody wants to drink this swill, it all goes to waste anyway, right?
Hi there. This is Laurence Simon of the 100 Word Stories Podcast at oneadayuntilthedayidie.com. Every week, I post a topic for the Weekly Challenge, where you come up with the stories and I collect them up and share them. Want to give it a try? The topic of the next 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge is POWER: Write a 100 word story on that topic. Then, send it in an email to isfullofcrap (at) gmail.com with the subject line of WEEKLY CHALLENGE. Do you have a website where people can learn more about you and your writing? Include the URL to that website. Also, suggest a topic or topics for future Weekly Challenges. Most importantly, include a recording of your story. Be sure to introduce yourself to the audience. If you hate the sound of your voice or can’t record your story for some reason or another, that’s your problem. Deal with it. I am not recording your story for you. Everything’s due by Sunday morning when I put the episode together. However, if you’re running late, I can put your story up on the feed in a separate post. Good luck, and as always… keep it brief. http://oneadayuntilthedayidie.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/07/thenexttopicisPOWER.mp3 JAN 7 Slack JAN 14 Involved JAN 21 Smartypants JAN 28 PICK TWO Corner Tiger Tie Please Encountered Obsolete Winter Webcam FEB 4 Why not? FEB 11 If only I had… FEB 18 Grab a bag… FEB 25 PICK TWO Native Drumroll Brothers Web Pi(e) Slice Ticker Tower Elephant MAR 4 Generally MAR 11 Braided MAR 18 Water MAR 25 PICK TWO Fail Globe Sunny Wee Shift Well Butter Wilco Grass APR 1 Hardly APR 8 Vibration APR 15 Weak APR 22 Camping APR 29 PICK TWO Granite Pertinent Record Surely Tag Bridge Proud Detective Tarp Caramel MAY 6 Fly MAY 13 Organ MAY 20 Pizza MAY 27 PICK TWO Doc Grumpy Happy Sleepy Dopey Bashful Sneezy JUNE 3 Tip JUNE 10 Ratchet JUNE 17 Wafer JUNE 24 PICK TWO Prompt Screech Future Gyrate Frustration Majestic Fired Packer JULY 1 Never say… JULY 8 Stab JULY 15 Chance JULY 22 Quill JULY 29 PICK TWO Mug Unfortunate Global Grime Elephant Splat Dread AUG 5 Power AUG 12 When the lights went out… AUG 19 Flay AUG 26 PICK TWO Mask Pinprick Out of sync Grapes Rose Drive Print Darling Terminal SEP 2 Win SEP 9 Driver error SEP 16 Addictive SEP 23 Chaos SEP 30 PICK TWO Minefield Fountain Angle Craft Sodium Salute Engine Candle Case OCT 7 Dug OCT 14 Mystery OCT 21 Turtle OCT 28 PICK TWO Pagoda Winner Rustic Confusing Grinding Patience Arthur Crypt NOV 4 Dispute NOV 11 Braced NOV 18 Flower NOV 25 PICK TWO Bubbling Saffron Lime Axial Repetition Can Spaceship DEC 2 Too much DEC 8 Polar DEC 16 Belt DEC 23 Irritation DEC 30 PICK TWO Reflect Pounce Gymnastics Obsolete Engage Girls Easier
The Royal Surveyor was a borderline obsessive. He obsessed about borderlines, and he took his job very seriously. Every tree, rock, and clump of dirt went into his logbook. Then, he handed it to The Royal Guard. “This is the border to guard!” The Royal Guard, formed from the most aggressive borderline psychotics, took the job very seriously. Nobody crossed that border. The king, afflicted with borderline personality disorder, got in one of his moods and decided to travel. The Royal Guard blocked his path. “We’re guarding this border!” they said. The king had them executed. And then barbarians invaded.