The 100 Word Stories Podcast

Richard Lizzie Norval Joe Serendipidy Tom Planet Z The next topic is Madly RICHARD Trumpet I’ve been scheduled to have brain surgery. Kinda looking forward to it. You’ve seen those programmes on the TV where people undergo that sort of surgery and, as the surgeons plunge in, they get the patient to do something they can normally do with no problem. Draw a picture, do mathematical problems, play an instrument. Something that would alert the surgeon to a problem if it all goes horribly wrong. I’m asking them to give me a trumpet to play. I can’t play the trumpet, but I figure if they’re going to mess with my head. I’ll mess with theirs! SERENDIPIDY Brain surgery isn’t what it used to be. These days, it’s all precision keyhole nonsense, with computer-aided surgical techniques. Nothing like the old frontal lobotomies I used to enjoy. That lovely squelching sound as you ease the spike behind the eyeball, carefully manoeuvring it into the perfect position. Then, the satisfying tap of the hammer and crunch as you pierce the skull. It’s a very hands-on affair, as you wriggle that spike around, mashing the brain tissue of the frontal lobe, before withdrawing with that lovely plopping sound. I still have the spike, but nobody to practice on. LIZZIE After brain surgery, she couldn’t see colors anymore. Trying to figure out why, the staff brought her some crayons. She drew several images. The colors matched perfectly. They brought more crayons. She could still color perfectly despite not being able to differentiate the hues. She said “Don’t operate on him.” Who did she mean? “He’s helping me with the colors.” But who? No reply. The next day, nothing matched. The trees were blue, the sky was purple. Reviewing scans, doctors found the first operation had missed a tiny tumor. Overnight, the swelling compressed it, silencing the whispers from the colors. TOM After brain surgery, she couldn’t see colors anymore. Trying to figure out why, the staff brought her some crayons. She drew several images. The colors matched perfectly. They brought more crayons. She could still color perfectly despite not being able to differentiate the hues. She said “Don’t operate on him.” Who did she mean? “He’s helping me with the colors.” But who? No reply. The next day, nothing matched. The trees were blue, the sky was purple. Reviewing scans, doctors found the first operation had missed a tiny tumor. Overnight, the swelling compressed it, silencing the whispers from the colors. NORVAL JOE Billbert’s parents went upstairs to pack, leaving Billbert, Sabrina, and Mandi alone. Billbert threw up his hands. “What do we do now? The prophecy said we have to be at the race. The tickets are for this Saturday.” Sabrina scoffed. “It’s not like we have to do brain surgery. We just need to get 200 miles in five days. We could hitch hike that far.” Mandi said, softly, “Hitch hiking is very dangerous. Especially for girls. Bobbi’s girlfriend is old enough to drive. Maybe she can borrow a car.” Sabrina smiled “I knew we should ask Bobbi instead of Mindiloo.” PLANET Z Before she went in for surgery, Cindy asked for no heroics. So when Captain Nuclearpants showed up to steal the mRI machine to build a doomsday weapon out of it, the staff shooed away The League of Do Gooders. “Cindy would have wanted it that way,” the hospital general counsel said. And they kept to their word. Nuclearpants rolled the machine away, Cindy’s surgery went well, and everything turned out well. Until Cindy had complications and there was no MRI machine available. Not that it mattered when Nuclearpants set off Doomsday and destroyed the city. God, what a selfish bitch.

The Mad Titan was condemned for gathering the infinity stones, snapping his fingers, and wiping half of the population of the universe out of existence. No judgment was made on any individual case. It was merely a random selection. However, if he had snapped out of existence, everyone who dumped their trash by the side of the road or let their dog or other pet shit on the sidewalk without picking it up, I think people would’ve approved, hell, I’d have handed over any infinity stones I’ve got soaked away in my kitchen drawer. Go get them dude. Annihilate them.

It was the worst blizzard in years. Power was out to the campus, we were on generator for the boilers. So we dragged our sleeping bags into the commons and camped out there to conserve heat. Coffee and sodas and hot chocolate and snacks, and everyone shouting SHUT THE DOOR! and laughing when someone came in from the cold. It let up overnight, and in the morning we had a snowman contest. The power came back, and we cleaned up the commons, and set up a campfire outside. Roasting marshmallows, telling stores, and making memories that might last a while.

Frederico never wanted to be a wrestler. Sure, he wrestled in high school and got a wrestling scholarship in college, but he used it to get an accounting degree and he loved accounting. But every now and then, some heel would come into the accounting firm and shout that he was coming for Frederick and ready to take away the bell, and Frederick would have to defend his title. Cubicles and chairs and ledgers flying everywhere. Frederick would win, any go back to actuary tables instead of body, slamming opponents over them. Until the next bug walked in the door.

When the rumors came out about Sweeney Todd and the pies, you’d think the city would be revolted and disgusted. But the truth was, the pies were actually delicious. So the city made a deal with him. They’d provide him with condemned criminals and political inconveniences to make pies, and head provide his grooming expertise to the magistrates at no cost. All kept on the hush-hush. Those rumors about him being a murderer and those pies disposing of the bodies? How absurd. The papers will print anything these days. Just a little off the top, freshen me up, please.

After 60 years, Bob came back for homecoming. The donations coordinator pushed his wheelchair around the new buildings. Bob closed his eyes and remembered how it used to be. Then the coordinator steered him to the Main quadrangle. Banners and protest signs hanging from the windows. Kids with checkered scarves, screaming the most ignorant nonsense into megaphones. Bob said, take me back to the car. He pulled out his checkbook and a pen and began to write. When they got to the car, he folded the check and handed it over. It said not one red cent, self-loathing kapos.

The first terraforming ships arrived and got the planet ready with the basics. A breathable atmosphere, livable temperatures, in a clear space to set up the fabricators. The second round adjusted the landscape to Support growing adapted crops. The third brought the humans and they experimented and adjusted the plants and introduced a few animals. They hoped could further improve the biosphere. Working their way up from bacteria to fish and insects and eventually some birds and lizards and small rodents. That’s when the imperial rodaniii terraforming ship arrived, wiped the planet clean, and prepared it for their own species..

Richard Lizzie Lisa Norval Joe Serendipidy Tom Planet Z The next topic is Brain surgery RICHARD Home Run ‘Honey, I’m home!’ He looked at her; she looked at me; I looked at him; he looked at me in surprise. ‘And, who the hell is this?’ ‘Oh, this is that guy from the office. The one I was telling you about. You remember? The ‘porn star’’ The ground still resolutely refused to open up beneath me. Having no other option, I gave smiled weakly. ‘Hi.’ ‘He doesn’t look like a porn star’ he thundered, striding down the hallway. Seizing my chance, I made a break for it, sliding past him on my knees, reaching for the door, and freedom! LIZZIE Step into my office, my lovely. Join us, join us… join us… join… The words lulled her mind. His voice softer and softer, almost a whisper. His office was the table by the window at the local diner. Somehow, he had found the most remote community in the middle of the desert. Nothing but dust and lizards. Oh, and the things too, a half-breed of zombified entities the aliens had left behind. They are lizards, he said, right before the lulling echo. She protested. Lizards or zombies? The last thing she heard was… we have died and so will you. LISA WFH Things have changed since covid. I used to have a long commute: taxi, train and a bit of a walk to get to work; now some days I don’t even get up from my bed. In the office I wore a suit. My home’s a warm place and I run hot so I tend to work in just my underwear. Working from home has made me a lot more efficient: long meetings I sit on the toilet and just make sure my microphone’s muted. My boss rang and asked if I’d start coming into work again. He’s worried about productivity. NORVAL JOE “What’s going on?” Billbert asked. “Joan,” his father shouted, pacing around the room. “I was at the office when central command called. They need your mother in DC right away.” Mrs. Weinerheimer hurried into the room, Sabrina right behind. “Good. Joan,” his father said. “We have a flight to Sacramento at 8 am. They said to pack for an extended stay.” Billbert looked at the Speedway tickets on the end table. “What about the NASCAR race on Saturday. We have to be there.” “Sorry, Billbert,” his dad shook his head. “That will have to wait. This is of national importance.” SERENDIPIDY I always fancied having a big office. You know the sort: ornate mahogany desk, and an expensive tooled leather chair, in front of a large window with views across the city, silhouetting me nicely. And not forgetting the big red button under the desk. The one that flips open the trapdoor and drops you into the shark tank below. Ah well, one can dream. The reality is a cubicle under flickering fluorescent lights and a frayed old swivel chair with a wobbly castor. No big red button. No trap door. No shark tank. This job will still kill you though. TOM Bitter as an empty glass 2 The office door of the Wavery swung wide. Jordan Stein exited with $5 Havana stogie dropping ash of the stage floor. “Where’s god damn choir line?” I pipe up there are on break, remember the union? “Let the union pound sand. I got a show to run. Let’s see some legs flying. I says I’ll check in the alley. In those days everyone smoked, and dancers where no exception. Mary had bummed a fag off Jimmy the understudy. The rim light from the alley gave her a merle oberon glow. “Showtime kids, breaks over.” Mary tossed her cigarette over her shoulder. PLANET Z People ask me what the grim reaper carried before farming implements were invented. And I guess it all depends on whether the site was invented before or after the ox plow. Although considering how slow oxen are when plowing, you could get a fair bit of distance between you and them if you saw them coming. And before that, the guy in the robe was smacking people with tree branches or bashing them with rocks. Which wasn’t all that convenient when there weren’t any trees or rocks around. So he’d just punched the Neanderthal really hard. Get the job done.

Every company I join has a branded product store where you can buy tumblers and jackets and backpacks and other things with the company logo on it. I’ve already got plenty of these things without the branding on it and I don’t need any of them. But they always insist on a welcome package with something in it and this new company is sending out a backpack, which will go on the floor and become a cat bed. And I’ll stuff it with the pullover another company sent as a cushion. I work from home, so they won’t see this.

Harvey knew how to bend anyone to as well. It was just figuring out the right combination of joints, angles, and tension. He took extensive notes and found that most people needed their own set of parameters to break. Through his research, he developed a three-dimensional alphabet of torture. And when he hired a linguist to help him decipher the code, she had him arrested. He never went to trial. They found him in his cell, twisted into a bizarre shape with a broken neck. The linguist told the judge, I think that means he’s sorry. She was right.