The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Richard Lizzie Tom Lisa Serendipidy Norval Joe Planet Z The next topic is Advance LISA There was a fish in the sky, the sun glinted on its iridescent undersides. Whipped by the breeze it coasted a while on the thermals. We stood in the garden, necks craned, watching it swim through the clouds. “It’s going down” Sue shouted as we ran to the front of the house. It sank fast and caught in a neighbour’s oak tree. It was actually a metallic balloon which promptly burst on a conker spine then crinkled in the breeze. A tag dangled from its tail with an address in France: a competition to see whose balloon travelled the furthest. RICHARD --- Unwise --- "Invest in the stock market he said." "What do you have to lose? All you need is a good financial advisor, some spare cash and maybe just a little bit of luck, and by this time next year you could be a millionaire." So I took a punt. After all, I had a little spare cash to invest, and I don't consider myself particularly unlucky. Unfortunately, what I didn't have was a good financial advisor. He selected the worst stock ever to invest in, and every time I asked him how the market was doing… He'd say, "It's going down." LIZZIE "It's going down..." whispered the radio. The coded message prompted them to grab their guns and take off. Then, they waited. An hour. Two hours. Nothing. Keep radio silence, but... what should they do? One of them decided to stand up and... A shot. Boom. Man down. The others were perplexed. They were the hunters, not the hunted. Another stood up to complain. Boom. Man down. "Wait a second, I didn't pay a fortune for this. It's over for me." Boom. Man down. What they didn't know was that other men had paid a lot more to hunt the hunters. SERENDIPIDY It's going down to the wire. The razor wire. It's my interpretation of the old fashioned death of a thousand cuts. Updated and improved. It's a simple idea: A deep, dark pit, stuffed full of copious strands of razor wire -military grade, of course. And I'm going to throw you in. You'll be torn to shreds. And the more you struggle and writhe in pain, the worse it gets. Until, slick from blood, screaming in pain, flesh flayed from your bones, you finally succumb to your wounds. So, now you know your immediate future… It's going down, to the wire. TOM Fly to close to the sun. When I was a kid I had a subscription to Youth National Geographic. In one issue was a picture of Alexander Bell’s tetrahedron kites. Big enough to lift a man into the sky. As kid I did not have the materials to build the man lifting kites, but I did build tetrahedron out of drinking straws. Lightest material I could find. Fast forward 60 years 3d printer spitting out nano-tube. Got the cat at about 1000 feet. Looking good, stable, success OH forgot about the load on the string . Too bad. Fluffy, its good down fast. Rethink: need nano-tube string. NORVAL JOE Bobbi snatched the phone from Mandi and punched in a text. Patrick. What are you doing with Sabrina’s phone. After a long pause, a reply came. Bobbi? She continued. I came by your house on the way to school. No one was home. Where are you and where is Billbert? Mind your own business, he sent back. Bobbie grimaced. “Mom says you are my business. You’re not into more Black Knight crap, are you?” Just watch, little sister. My crap is going to be powerful, and it’s going down soon. Bobbie handed Mandi her phone. “The Black Knights have Billbert.” PLANET Z Mindy's fever was finally coming down. Icepacks and aspirin, and a week in bed. Her vision was blurry, and she couldn't read her books, so we read to her. Or we turned on the radio. Hauling the television upstairs wasn't an option. And she wanted to stay in her room. We brought up soup and orange juice and ice water, took down the empty trays and bowls and cups. Replacing her sheets and pillowcases twice a day,

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. "I think I know what my problem is," said George. "It's a lack of opportunities to express my artistic side." He painted the cannonballs with interesting colors and swirls and lacquers. He designed lush and beautiful sails with vibrant images that came to life in the wind. He rigged wind chimes and other instruments so they'd play a melodic tune with the wind and the rolling of the seas. They all looked and sounded nice as the ship took a broadsides from a British frigate and went down quickly.

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. He'd practiced for years with his cutlass, but never got any better. That's when George saw an ad for Karate training. He shrugged and signed up for classes. After a few weeks, he got pretty good. He tried Judo and Tae Kwon Do and other styles, too. After a while, he'd earned black belts in all of them. "Here, let me demonstrate," said George happily, and he broke six boards with his fist. As the ship slowly sank, the captain tied George to the mast with his black belts.

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. When the ship's captain was away on vacation, he hired a temp to run things. "The captain warned me about you, George," said the temp captain. "I'll keep my eye in you." So, after their first raid... "Sorry about that stray shot," said George. "But that's a nice eyepatch you've got there." By the time George's captain returned, the temp captain was sporting a new eyepatch, a pegleg, and a hook hand. "Well that ended badly," said the captain. "I am not looking forward to his review on Glassdoor."

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. He wasn't good at love, either. Oh, he wasn't bad-looking. And he was always courteous and polite with the ladies. It was just that deeper connection he never made. She'd want him to read poetry or go dancing, and he'd try to teach her how to tie knots or tell the weather from the sea air. One time, he did find a girl who wanted to learn how to tie knots. But she tied him to a bed and took his money. And a note: "I love you anyway."

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. He was always pacing the deck, back and forth. "Why are you walking all the time?" the captain asked. "I bought a step-counting smartwatch," said George. "I have to get five thousand steps in each day to stay fit." The captain smirked. "You could always do that by raping, looting, and pillaging." "This is way easier," said George. "And a lot less messy." George walked away, but the captain tripped him up. George fell and broke his nose, bleeding all over the deck. "What a mess," said the captain.

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. He preferred the feel of sand between his toes to the wet wooden deck of the ship. So, when the ship docked at port, he hauled sand from the beach to the ship and spread it all over the deck. The extra weight slowed the ship down, and it took longer to catch up to cargo vessels that they wanted to raid. "Fine by me," said George, laying in a chaise lounger on the deck and sipping an umbrella drink. "More time for me to work on my tan."

Richard Lizzie Tom Lisa Serendipidy Norval Joe Planet Z The next topic is It’s going down… LISA Come Fly with Me It felt good to be out cruising along, feeling the breeze beneath my wings. Endless possibilities for the day lay ahead. My driver today was old and small. He struggled to see over the dashboard. Our eyes met but I don’t think he saw me stuck to the windscreen. I could hear his music through the glass. We travelled together as companions for miles until a jet of water unseated me. I had a nauseating lurch back and forth on the wipers before they came to a stop with a screeching judder. I realised then, my time was nearly up. RICHARD --- Flight Plan --- There are some things you just don't want to hear when cruising at twenty thousand feet. Things like… "Brace for impact!", "This is a hijack!", or "Can you smell burning?" Thankfully, that's not a situation I've ever found myself having to face, but believe me, I'm prepared. I think I've watched every flight disaster movie that's ever been released. Twice. I always try to sit over a wing, or next to an emergency exit. Preferably both. And, unlike you, I always pay attention to the in-flight safety briefing. Want my advice? If you ever fly… Sit next to me! SERENDIPIDY It's Friday night, and I'm getting ready to go out, like so many others will be, the world over. I've showered, done my nails and make -up, picked out a killer outfit, and spritzed myself with fragrance. And, of course, I've had a couple of drinks to get me in the mood. But I'm not meeting up with the girls, hitting a nightclub or even going out with a hot date. My night will be very different. Tonight, I'll be cruising the streets; looking for unfortunate victims to feed my craving. I did say I'd picked out a 'killer' outfit. TOM Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac. Don’t look back you can never look back When I met my first wife, I was living high in Santa Cruz. She was a Walnut Creek Girl with a Fortune 500 Father. I a proto-hippy. One of the oddest things we share was a love of cursing. In northern California lexicon there is phrase: Cruising the Main. And of course, cruising the boardwalk was understood in 174 different languages. We young poor and in need of cheap entertainment. Oh, what a circle that was. Buckets of pills and clouds of pot. Lot and lot of free Booze. One night I even ran it to Both toms: Waits and Lehrer. LIZZIE The pelican flew over the cruise ship. The tourists took their phones out to start lives. Look, look, a bird. Most didn't even know it was a pelican. Some called him a giant seagull. But the pelican flew over again. After the lives came the photos. Social media is hungry, let's post some photos and show off our ignorance. The pelican flew back and forth. Suddenly, he pooped on the tourists. Shrieks of amusement and more lives, featuring the pooped deck. Likes, hearts, laughing emojis. Then, the pelican flew away, grunting, "bring fish, next time!" and thinking humans are idiots. NORVAL JOE With students cruising past them to class, Mandi realized she had said too much. “He has what?” Bobbi gasped. “Gotta go to the bathroom.” Mandi hurried into the girl’s room. She locked herself in a stall, pulled out her phone, and texted Sabrina. Where are you and Billbert? She read the reply quickly, opened the stall door, and ran into Bobbi, her phone still in her hand. “Who did you call?” Bobbi demanded. Mandi shrugged. “I texted Sabrina, but I don’t think it was her.” “Why?” Bobbi asked. Mandi frowned deep in thought. “She called me Linoliumanda and not Lindimindi.” PLANET Z At night on every cruise ship when the lights are turned off so you can look up and see the stars. Living in the city a lot of the night sky gets washed out by street lights. Even in the country you still get some light pollution. but out on the deep ocean you can see everything and it’s really mi...

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. Long before Elon Musk released "Smart Summon" in his Tesla line of cars, George worked on a similar feature for his pirate ship. George fired a flare pistol in the air, which signaled his ship to drift to his location and pick him up. This made sense when he was standing on the docks. But when he was drunk at a bar a mile inland, well, that caused a whole lot of problems. Sailing up the street, knocking over market stalls and ruining the cobblestones, and people running away.

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. When he was a kid, his family would paint eggs for Easter and hide them around the yard. Then, the kids would hunt for the eggs. Even though he was all grown up now, George yearned for the innocence of youth. So he painted cannonballs and hid them all over the ship for the crew to find. "ENEMY VESSEL TO STARBOARD!" shouted the captain. "LOAD THE CANNON!" "Where are the cannonballs?" shouted the first mate. Nothing like a little excitement to make an Easter Cannonball Egg hunt fun, right?

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. Nobody endorsed him on LinkedIn for piracy, kidnapping, sailing, looting, pillaging... Anything related to being a pirate. Every time he requested to connect to someone, they'd decline it. Nobody on the seas or land wanted to be associated with George professionally. He tried to join a few groups, but the moderators refused to accept his requests. George even tried LinkedIn Pro, which told him that a lot of pirates were checking his profile every day. A lot of big names on that list. At least they knew his name.

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. He'd rather buy lottery tickets than loot and pillage. And when he did loot and pillage, he'd use his shares of the booty to buy more lottery tickets. He never won anything. Well, okay, a few bucks here and there. And that one time that he won large fries at McDonalds instead of the small fries. That was something. "The odds of you winning are astronomical," said the captain. "Why do you play?" "If I lose, I don't die," said George, loading the cannon as The British Fleet approached.

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. He always tried to be good. He went to school and he went to church. George would go to Confession every day. "Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," said George. "Yes, George, I now," said Father Timothy. "I was the one you were sinning with." The Archbishop of Boston reassigned Father Timothy to another parish. George, on the other hand, was accused of lying, and he spent years in therapy. And then, one day, the therapist said: "What if we pretend to be pirates?" And, so, George did.

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. He'd heard the legends of Atlantis, the island paradise that had sank beneath the waves. "It's still out there, son," said a grizzled fisherman, pulling out a map. "I'm too old to seek it myself, but I could sell you this map." George bought the map, raised anchor, and sailed for Atlantis. Except that he had the map upside-down, and ended up in the middle of Fenway Park in Boston. Thankfully, the Red Sox were away in New York. George found a bar, and watched the game on television.

Richard Lizzie Tom Lisa Serendipidy Norval Joe Planet Z The next topic is Cruising LISA True Love is Hard to Kill Keepwell was nestled in the shadows of Dugyle Castle. Their visitors passed through our town so we thrived. Life was good. Until the falling sickness. The drawbridge went up and nothing more was heard from the castle. We did the same: shut the gates and sat it out imposing no contact with the rest of the country. Jack the butcher’s son however, continued to see his beau from a nearby village. They met secretly until she succumbed to the sickness. The rest is really too painful to recount but our numbers dwindled rapidly and the castle soon fell into ruin. RICHARD --- Explosive Power --- "Keep well clear" said the guide, "they appear pretty lethargic but they can strike with explosive power." I figured he was being dramatic, hoping for a bigger tip. Still, I wasn't going to take unnecessary risks; I eyed the croc suspiciously. It appeared to be asleep, barely any sign of life. I reckoned I could outrun it, should it come to that. I moved closer, crouching low to get the perfect shot. "National Geographic, here I come, I said quietly, raising my camera." The attack was over in a flash, as was my life. Still, it was an amazing photo. SERENDIPIDY I'm sorry to say, they don't keep well. It's not long before they start to smell and go bad. And they do tend to attract flies, which isn't particularly pleasant. It's a shame really. I'd love to be able to put them on display to show to my visitors. After all, there's really nothing like a set of decapitated human heads as a conversation starter at parties. Sadly, until I can come up with a way to keep them fresh, that's just not going to be possible. So, until then… I'll just keep on eating them. They're really rather tasty! TOM Transurethral Resection of the Prostate Last week I got interpolated. In the biz it’s call a Terp or Turp. Sounds like a small Africa bird in the shadow of Kilimanjaro. Nup. Think dermel tunneling into a gland. I will fore-go the image of tubing and ballons for the fain of heart. What I can address is a new understanding of the pain chart. Like Spinal Tap is goes from 1 to 11. Well I thought it when from 1 to 11. I discovered a land that leave that silly 11 in the dust. Lot of screaming. Damn near a religious experience. If I don’t move …… LIZZIE I knew someone innocent would die. He wanted to clear his name and trampled all over anyone who stood in his way. I wanted to ask him "why". But I never did. He would've denied it. The images have been doctored. It wasn't him on the video. "Can't you see?" And no, I couldn't. It was him, stealing from his best friend. When he was arrested, I said "keep well". He just looked at me. And I knew I'd have to run for my life. Perhaps I should go to that place in the painting and hide in plain sight. NORVAL JOE Mandi shrugged away from the redhead. “You keep well, okay?” She headed to class. The girl grabbed her by her shoulder. “If you want Billbert to keep well, you’ll tell me where he is.” Intimidated by the girl’s size and overt beauty, Mandi gritted her teeth and hissed. “I don’t know where he is. When I got up this morning, he was gone.” The girl frowned. “Listen. My name is Bobbi Yaan. My brother, Patrick, is a Black Knight, and he’s missing too. The Knights know Billbert has magic.” Mandi interrupted Bobbi. “He doesn’t have magic. He has a superpower.” PLANET Z The first module we played was the keep on the borderlands, a castle at the edge of some caves, full of warring tribes of monsters and some kind of evil temple. At some point, our characters tried to rob the jewelry store and ended up getting killed by the castle guards. The new characters we rolled up for the next adventure were looked on with a bit more suspicion. So this time we ended up poisoning the well. After a few years,

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. Other pirates looted and plundered, while George spent a lot of time writing to his grandmother. She'd send care packages, which contained cookies and brownies and socks and underwear. His crewmates stole George's socks, ran the underwear up the mast to fly with the Jolly Roger, and ate all of the cookies and brownies. Clutching their stomachs, they vomited blood and died horrible, painful deaths. George wrote his grandmother again to tell her that she really needs new glasses. "Or put bigger labels on the vanilla and arsenic bottles."

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. He was a fierce competitive eater though. Won a few championships at county fairs and restaurant openings. Hot dogs, pizzas, chicken wings... if you could eat it, George ate it. A lot of it. And he ate it quickly. Afterwards, he'd go off to an alley and throw it all up, but he'd kept it down long enough to pick up the trophy and the prize money. But George didn't mind it all that much, considering how many times he'd been seasick during his days on the high seas.

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. But even a not-very-good pirate can see the evil in marketing consultants. "You need to rebrand!" said the consultant. "You're not pirates, you're independent resellers." The consultant instituted standard uniforms, providing the hook-handed, peg-legged, and eye-patched crewmembers with realistic prostheses. "And we've got to work on language skills. Your grammar and jargon are simply awful!" Hostages became negotiating assets, booty became procured trading goods. The crew held a meeting, then keel-hauled the landlubber. "Oh, sorry," said George. "We're terminating your contract through a barnacle-scrubbing maintenance operation. Is that better?"

George was a pirate but he wasn’t a very good pirate. The problem was that the captain kept changing the ship’s operation manuals. He made procedures more and more complex, making it harder for any pirates to get any actual work done with consistency. And he changed the terminology and names of things. This confused the Pirates even more. Eventually, George held a meeting with all the other pirates on the ship. The captain woke up to George standing in front of him with a dagger to his throat. What’s the bullshit term you use for mutiny now? Asked George.

George was a pirate, but he wasn't a very good pirate. He was always leaving the ship's portholes open, and one day a raven flew in and landed on George's head. "Nevermore," said the raven. "What the crap does that mean?" said George. "Nevermore," repeated the bird. George swatted the raven away, got up, and looked up nevermore in a dictionary. The definition further irritated him. "Why would a raven say nevermore?" said George. "Nevermore," said the raven. George drew his cutlass and killed the annoying bird. He roasted it in the galley and ate it. Quoth the pirate, "Delicious."