Topic: A story about gaming…
Never in his life did Todd Lobe think that gaming would benefit him in any way. Ever since he was young, his parents instilled in him the idea that video games rotted your brains and could not possibly contribute to a better life. When his friends growing up got Nintendos and Playstations, Todd would always sit off to the side and not play; that was if his parents even allowed him to visit those friends. When he went to college he indulged in drinking and partying but still he avoided games due to his parents conditioning. Despite all that here was Todd Lobe sitting next to his eight year old son, both of them holding Nintendo Wii controllers- how did this all happen?
It began, of course, when Todd married his wife Lisa. Lisa was Todd’s better half in more ways than one; when Todd was shut-off and living the way his parents conditioned, Lisa was always the one who showed him how to open up. It started with their first date when Todd was scared of going to a Yoga lesson with Lisa. He had thought Yoga itself was strange enough, forgetting that he thought it to be a bad setting for a first date. However, Lisa showed him how to truly be open and enjoy himself, and after the first ‘Upward Facing Dog’ Todd had never felt so free in his life: Todd was in love. Their love soon sprouted its first product in their son, whom they named Jeff. Though he loved Jeff very much, as Jeff grew older Todd found it harder and harder to connect with him; Lisa was raising him to be the open-minded, free-spirited youth that Todd never could be and Todd did not want to change that. He needed a solution.
As usual when Todd needed help in a situation like this he went to Lisa, who gave him one simple instruction: go play video games with your son. Todd had initially protested even the idea of Jeff having a video game system but when he looked into his wife’s beautiful eyes he knew she was right. Thus, a nervous looking Todd approached his son playing Wii in the living room; he had seen Jeff play before but in general avoided paying attention. Todd sat down next to his son and asked him what he was playing. Jeff explained that he was playing a racing game where you used the controller as a wheel; Todd was amazed at the way Jeff was able to so easily and simply explain the game and soon picked up a controller of his own.
From the back of the room Lisa looked on as Todd finally picked up the controller; the look on Jeff’s face was worth every second she had worked in her life to reach this moment. Within a few minutes Jeff and Todd were both furiously flailing their controllers around like steering wheels, laughing and joking the whole time. Todd had never experienced a joy like the one he felt then, a mixture of the minor ecstasy one gets from gaming and the truly powerful feeling of finally being connected to his son.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Reddit Challenge story #19
Topic: one about a drug dealing gorilla
You join me today at the Brooklyn Zoo in New York City, which is in the United States of America. I am here to visit Jacob the Silverback Gorilla, a Gorilla unlike any other. Jacob eats like the other Gorillas, he walks and mates like the other Gorillas, but Jacob is unique because he has a side career: drug dealing.
That’s right; Jacob has been supplying the other Gorillas and great apes at the Brooklyn Zoo with one of New York City’s finest exports: New York Sour Diesel Marijuana. The story all began when Eric Goldberg- a resident of Brooklyn and known stoner- was visiting the zoo in September. Eric decided it would be a “hilarious idea” to give one of the Gorillas a joint and see what they did with it. Unknowingly, as his friends looked on and laughed, Eric passed a joint and a lighter to the nearest Gorilla, Jacob. Already recognized by the zoo staff as the smartest of their Gorillas, Jacob immediately broke the joint in half and attempted to sell the two half-joints to other Gorillas in his cage for food. He was quickly able to sell off his entire product, having already followed the first rule of drug dealing: don’t use what you sell.
Needing more to sell, Jacob walked back up to Eric Goldberg and made the international hand signal for smoking a joint. Eric was confused at first, but realized soon that the massive ape wanted more. Reluctant at first, Eric eventually agreed to supply Jacob; the two wrote out an agreement in monkey feces wherein Eric would receive one third of the profits from Jacob’s enterprise. Eric was of course, too stupid to realize that the profits would all be fruits and vegetables as well as the occasional sexual offering from one of the Females.
Still to this day though, Eric supplies marijuana to Jacob the Silverback Gorilla and he then turns around and sells it to the other monkeys, all of whom have learned to use lighters and smoke. Since taking up the habit, the Brooklyn Zoo’s monkey feeding budget has risen by nearly 200 percent, the monkey house has become littered with Cheetoh bags, Bob Marley posters now hang on all the walls and Phish is played regularly over loudspeaker.
You join me today at the Brooklyn Zoo in New York City, which is in the United States of America. I am here to visit Jacob the Silverback Gorilla, a Gorilla unlike any other. Jacob eats like the other Gorillas, he walks and mates like the other Gorillas, but Jacob is unique because he has a side career: drug dealing.
That’s right; Jacob has been supplying the other Gorillas and great apes at the Brooklyn Zoo with one of New York City’s finest exports: New York Sour Diesel Marijuana. The story all began when Eric Goldberg- a resident of Brooklyn and known stoner- was visiting the zoo in September. Eric decided it would be a “hilarious idea” to give one of the Gorillas a joint and see what they did with it. Unknowingly, as his friends looked on and laughed, Eric passed a joint and a lighter to the nearest Gorilla, Jacob. Already recognized by the zoo staff as the smartest of their Gorillas, Jacob immediately broke the joint in half and attempted to sell the two half-joints to other Gorillas in his cage for food. He was quickly able to sell off his entire product, having already followed the first rule of drug dealing: don’t use what you sell.
Needing more to sell, Jacob walked back up to Eric Goldberg and made the international hand signal for smoking a joint. Eric was confused at first, but realized soon that the massive ape wanted more. Reluctant at first, Eric eventually agreed to supply Jacob; the two wrote out an agreement in monkey feces wherein Eric would receive one third of the profits from Jacob’s enterprise. Eric was of course, too stupid to realize that the profits would all be fruits and vegetables as well as the occasional sexual offering from one of the Females.
Still to this day though, Eric supplies marijuana to Jacob the Silverback Gorilla and he then turns around and sells it to the other monkeys, all of whom have learned to use lighters and smoke. Since taking up the habit, the Brooklyn Zoo’s monkey feeding budget has risen by nearly 200 percent, the monkey house has become littered with Cheetoh bags, Bob Marley posters now hang on all the walls and Phish is played regularly over loudspeaker.
Saturday, October 22, 2011
Reddit Challenge story #18
This was a special one. I got a direct message on Reddit that asked me to write a story for the message sender's friend Cosmo (real name) for Cosmo's birthday, he gave me this prompt:
"He and I were childhood friends, but I moved away after an accident with a panini maker. Years later, we both got kidnapped by secret police, escape together, and have to fight to the death with 4 agents. The optional ending is we fall in love. Neither of us are gay, but it'd make him laugh a hell of a lot :P "
So, without further ado, here is my take. Happy birthday, Cosmo:
Nineteen years. That is how long it had been since Cosmo had seen Brian, but that did not stop Cosmo from remembering every second of their lives together. Growing up in southern California Cosmo knew from the minute he saw Brian playing in his kindergarten class with the same Tonka Truck he like, that him and Brian would be best friends. And best friends they were, playing together after school every day, hanging out on the weekends enjoying video games (when their mother didn’t make them stop and go outside.) All was well in Cosmo’s world until the unfortunate accident with the Panini maker.
It happened one night when Brian- 15 at the time- was sleep walking, which was typical for him, and his parents knew about it; they decided the best cure would be to set up the house so that he could walk around and not hurt himself. That night though, Brian’s father made a grave mistake: he left the Panini press out on the table. Sleep walking Brian spotted the Panini maker and in his half-awake state determined that a white bread and human finger Panini would be delicious. The burns discovered by doctors when Brian arrived at the hospital in the middle of the night were so bad that Brian had to be taken to a special Panini-burn ward in the only city where there were enough Paninis for this to be a serious problem: Rome. For the next 19 years, Cosmo would not hear from Brian once, not until now, with Brain standing right in front of him in a Turkish prison.
The thoughts on both of their minds were surely curious ones; neither man had any idea why he had been taken from his home, flown to a Turkish prison and locked away with his former best friend. Cosmo was the first to act, telling Brian that he missed him and that the only important thing was that they escape. Brian agreed, so at midnight, they decided to stage a prison break. Luckily, both Brian and Cosmo had been trained in martial arts and they easily overcame the first guards. Soon their real threat would come.
As the boys neared the prison exit, four men in dark suits suddenly blocked the doorway. Cosmo and Brian knew what to do and in an instant they jumped into action taking on the men in hand-to-hand combat; within seconds all four men were down. Standing face to face, each brimming with testosterone and adrenaline, Cosmo and Brian suddenly and passionately began kissing, standing right over the bodies of the men they just killed. However, not all the suited men were dead.
A few feet away from the now deeply engrossed Cosmo and Brian, one of the suited men begins to shuffle on the floor. He was barely able to move his arm, but still he managed to lift his gun out of his holster. Out of the corner of his eye Cosmo spotted the gun but before he could say anything it was too late. Brian took the bullet directly in the heart and as it struck his back arched and he writhed in pain, falling instantly to the floor. As Cosmo stared down at the only man he would ever love, only one word could escape his lips “nooooooooooooooooooo!”
"He and I were childhood friends, but I moved away after an accident with a panini maker. Years later, we both got kidnapped by secret police, escape together, and have to fight to the death with 4 agents. The optional ending is we fall in love. Neither of us are gay, but it'd make him laugh a hell of a lot :P "
So, without further ado, here is my take. Happy birthday, Cosmo:
Nineteen years. That is how long it had been since Cosmo had seen Brian, but that did not stop Cosmo from remembering every second of their lives together. Growing up in southern California Cosmo knew from the minute he saw Brian playing in his kindergarten class with the same Tonka Truck he like, that him and Brian would be best friends. And best friends they were, playing together after school every day, hanging out on the weekends enjoying video games (when their mother didn’t make them stop and go outside.) All was well in Cosmo’s world until the unfortunate accident with the Panini maker.
It happened one night when Brian- 15 at the time- was sleep walking, which was typical for him, and his parents knew about it; they decided the best cure would be to set up the house so that he could walk around and not hurt himself. That night though, Brian’s father made a grave mistake: he left the Panini press out on the table. Sleep walking Brian spotted the Panini maker and in his half-awake state determined that a white bread and human finger Panini would be delicious. The burns discovered by doctors when Brian arrived at the hospital in the middle of the night were so bad that Brian had to be taken to a special Panini-burn ward in the only city where there were enough Paninis for this to be a serious problem: Rome. For the next 19 years, Cosmo would not hear from Brian once, not until now, with Brain standing right in front of him in a Turkish prison.
The thoughts on both of their minds were surely curious ones; neither man had any idea why he had been taken from his home, flown to a Turkish prison and locked away with his former best friend. Cosmo was the first to act, telling Brian that he missed him and that the only important thing was that they escape. Brian agreed, so at midnight, they decided to stage a prison break. Luckily, both Brian and Cosmo had been trained in martial arts and they easily overcame the first guards. Soon their real threat would come.
As the boys neared the prison exit, four men in dark suits suddenly blocked the doorway. Cosmo and Brian knew what to do and in an instant they jumped into action taking on the men in hand-to-hand combat; within seconds all four men were down. Standing face to face, each brimming with testosterone and adrenaline, Cosmo and Brian suddenly and passionately began kissing, standing right over the bodies of the men they just killed. However, not all the suited men were dead.
A few feet away from the now deeply engrossed Cosmo and Brian, one of the suited men begins to shuffle on the floor. He was barely able to move his arm, but still he managed to lift his gun out of his holster. Out of the corner of his eye Cosmo spotted the gun but before he could say anything it was too late. Brian took the bullet directly in the heart and as it struck his back arched and he writhed in pain, falling instantly to the floor. As Cosmo stared down at the only man he would ever love, only one word could escape his lips “nooooooooooooooooooo!”
Reddit Challenge story #17
Topic: Garbage men in the far future, how have things changed?
It was a normal day at work for Chuck: the office looked just as usual; nothing was out of the ordinary during the day, nothing too surprising or difficult. Of course, if you knew what Chuck did for a living, if you saw his office, you might not agree that everything was normal. The year is 2169, and Chuck is a garbage man.
2169 was- as we all know- a monumental year for the people of earth, it was the year we set foot on a planet in another planetary system. For Chuck though, the day those first steps were broadcast on brain-o-vision, that event was not particularly important to him. Chuck was concentrating much more of his efforts on the Uranigators.
In 2169, being a garbage man required a PhD, and it had ever since scientists invented the nuclear-powered waste-teleportation system. The system transported waste wirelessly via special wormholes created at the site of waste creation and letting off at massive processing facilities on the outskirts of the major cities. One issue that quickly arose while initially removing all the garbage from then antique underground sewage system was the accidental transport- and then mutation- of sewer alligators, into Uranigators. The Uranigators were nearly indestructible, supremely powerful and impossible to even get near without proper radiation protection.
Chuck was the man responsible for getting rid of the Uranigators who congregate around the processing facility, and with his PhD in Nuclear Biology, he was the best man for the job. He donned his radioactivity suit and walked to the pond outside the facility where the Uranigators congregated. In his hands chuck was gripping a large weapon; it looked unlike any 21st century weapon and Chuck immediately fired a blast into the air. The Uranigators all snapped to attention, looking toward Chuck. For a moment, there was silence as the two parties stood still, waiting for the first move. Within a second or so, the Uranigators- all 15 of them- began in sprinting full bore toward Chuck, glowing brighter green as they picked up speed.
As the Uranigators raced toward him, Chuck remembered back to that ancient movie his dad used to love watching when he was a kid. It was about the rise and fall of a Cuban gangster just before the internet era. As the Uranigators neared, Chuck raised his weapon toward them and then, recalling that oh-so-famous line, he decided to belt it out before firing “You wanna fuck with me? Okay. You wanna play rough? Okay. Say hello to my little friend!”
It was a normal day at work for Chuck: the office looked just as usual; nothing was out of the ordinary during the day, nothing too surprising or difficult. Of course, if you knew what Chuck did for a living, if you saw his office, you might not agree that everything was normal. The year is 2169, and Chuck is a garbage man.
2169 was- as we all know- a monumental year for the people of earth, it was the year we set foot on a planet in another planetary system. For Chuck though, the day those first steps were broadcast on brain-o-vision, that event was not particularly important to him. Chuck was concentrating much more of his efforts on the Uranigators.
In 2169, being a garbage man required a PhD, and it had ever since scientists invented the nuclear-powered waste-teleportation system. The system transported waste wirelessly via special wormholes created at the site of waste creation and letting off at massive processing facilities on the outskirts of the major cities. One issue that quickly arose while initially removing all the garbage from then antique underground sewage system was the accidental transport- and then mutation- of sewer alligators, into Uranigators. The Uranigators were nearly indestructible, supremely powerful and impossible to even get near without proper radiation protection.
Chuck was the man responsible for getting rid of the Uranigators who congregate around the processing facility, and with his PhD in Nuclear Biology, he was the best man for the job. He donned his radioactivity suit and walked to the pond outside the facility where the Uranigators congregated. In his hands chuck was gripping a large weapon; it looked unlike any 21st century weapon and Chuck immediately fired a blast into the air. The Uranigators all snapped to attention, looking toward Chuck. For a moment, there was silence as the two parties stood still, waiting for the first move. Within a second or so, the Uranigators- all 15 of them- began in sprinting full bore toward Chuck, glowing brighter green as they picked up speed.
As the Uranigators raced toward him, Chuck remembered back to that ancient movie his dad used to love watching when he was a kid. It was about the rise and fall of a Cuban gangster just before the internet era. As the Uranigators neared, Chuck raised his weapon toward them and then, recalling that oh-so-famous line, he decided to belt it out before firing “You wanna fuck with me? Okay. You wanna play rough? Okay. Say hello to my little friend!”
Friday, October 21, 2011
Reddit Challenge story #16
Topic: a boy and his dog attempting to run away from home
As Johnny and Dexter ran down tree lined avenue, life finally seemed exiting. At eight years old, Johnny was fed up with his parents; they were always trying to get him to eat foods he didn’t like, do homework when he didn’t want to and they never let him play with Dexter enough. Johnny decided that the best option would be to stage a prison break with only some clothes, a Gameboy and his Black Labrador Retriever Dexter.
The prison break was expertly timed; Johnny had decided that a daylight escape at 5:00 on a calm summer day- while his mother was preoccupied preparing dinner- would be perfect. After synchronizing his Spongebob watch with the watch he put on Dexter’s collar, Johnny set off out the front door and began running down the street. He was finally free and Johnny felt amazing as Dexter ran alongside, his ears flopping in the breeze, a smile on his face. Johnny had already decided that the best place to stay would under the bridge at the school playground; nobody would see him there, he had used the spot to win hide-and-seek so many times!
When Johnny and Dexter arrived at the playground the sun was beginning to set, bathing the scenery in beautiful shades of golden red. The still-gleeful pair ducked under the playground bridge, it was covered on all sides by a thin but hard plastic sheet with different shapes poked out of it in random positions. Once inside Johnny and Dexter were mostly blocked from the sun, Johnny watched it set through a star shaped cutout. As night fell, it grew slightly colder and Dexter began to stamp his feet nervously with fear, he began to whimper. Johnny grabbed hold of Dexter around his neck and hugged him close; they both sat down and nestled together for warmth: Johnny thought of his family. He thought of his mother and father, he thought of eating home-cooked meals with them, he thought of his sister and the games they always played. Suddenly Johnny regretted his decision to run away; he missed his family!
Johnny quickly bolted upright under the bridge and Dexter sat up at attention next to him. “Come on Dex” Johnny said, smiling “lets go home!” Their run back home was almost as jubilant as their run away; Johnny would never run away from home again.
As Johnny and Dexter ran down tree lined avenue, life finally seemed exiting. At eight years old, Johnny was fed up with his parents; they were always trying to get him to eat foods he didn’t like, do homework when he didn’t want to and they never let him play with Dexter enough. Johnny decided that the best option would be to stage a prison break with only some clothes, a Gameboy and his Black Labrador Retriever Dexter.
The prison break was expertly timed; Johnny had decided that a daylight escape at 5:00 on a calm summer day- while his mother was preoccupied preparing dinner- would be perfect. After synchronizing his Spongebob watch with the watch he put on Dexter’s collar, Johnny set off out the front door and began running down the street. He was finally free and Johnny felt amazing as Dexter ran alongside, his ears flopping in the breeze, a smile on his face. Johnny had already decided that the best place to stay would under the bridge at the school playground; nobody would see him there, he had used the spot to win hide-and-seek so many times!
When Johnny and Dexter arrived at the playground the sun was beginning to set, bathing the scenery in beautiful shades of golden red. The still-gleeful pair ducked under the playground bridge, it was covered on all sides by a thin but hard plastic sheet with different shapes poked out of it in random positions. Once inside Johnny and Dexter were mostly blocked from the sun, Johnny watched it set through a star shaped cutout. As night fell, it grew slightly colder and Dexter began to stamp his feet nervously with fear, he began to whimper. Johnny grabbed hold of Dexter around his neck and hugged him close; they both sat down and nestled together for warmth: Johnny thought of his family. He thought of his mother and father, he thought of eating home-cooked meals with them, he thought of his sister and the games they always played. Suddenly Johnny regretted his decision to run away; he missed his family!
Johnny quickly bolted upright under the bridge and Dexter sat up at attention next to him. “Come on Dex” Johnny said, smiling “lets go home!” Their run back home was almost as jubilant as their run away; Johnny would never run away from home again.
Reddit Challenge story #15
Topic: An old apartment-bound woman and her canary! Please give him a unique name.
Chirp. Gilda O’Malley wakes up and slowly arises out of her bed. Chirp. Gilda rubs her eyes slowly, wiping away the heaps of crusty yellow-green sleep that have built up around her aging eyes. The wrinkles in her face appear like canyons, etched into her once-youthful flesh by years and years of life Chirp. Eighty-seven year old Gilda knows just what she needs to do to start her day. Chirp. Slowly, Gilda manages to move her feet from the bed to the floor; still in her nightgown she begins to shuffle toward the corner of the room where a birdcage stands it covered by a tattered, grey towel. Chirp. Gilda removes the towel to reveal a canary, perched atop a swing in the middle of the cage. The chirping stops as soon as the bird makes eye-contact with Gilda, who proceeds to place some food into the cage, which the canary gleefully jumps down to the cage floor to receive “here you go, Ms. Haysworth, enjoy!” Gilda’s day has begun.
The day passed with unusual speed as Gilda went about her daily tasks: grocery shopping, bridge with the gals and finally dinner with her daughter; all of it seems to fly past for Gilda. When she arrived back at her apartment however, time suddenly began to slow down and Gilda knew something was wrong. She rushed up the narrow stairs to her bedroom as fast as her failing legs would take her and when she arrived, her biggest fear was confirmed: Ms. Haysworth had died.
Gilda had known nothing but life with her bird for so many years that without it, suddenly she felt no purpose. She had named the bird after her first grade teacher those many years ago- the woman who had inspired Gilda to become a teacher, which she did- and the loss was as crushing to her mentally as it was physically. Over the next few weeks, Gilda’s physical state deteriorated. Though old, Gilda was always a healthy woman, but now it seemed that her body was suddenly failing her.
One day, seven weeks after Ms. Haysworth’s death, Gilda awoke to a strange sight: a powerful white light encircled her bedroom. She rubbed her eyes to try to allow them to focus but she was unable to see anything but the white light. Confused, Gilda stepped off of her bed only to discover the floor felt like nothing she had ever stepped on, like a cloud draped in velvet and filled with the finest down. Suddenly Gilda saw a familiar face, confirming to her where suspected she was and for the first time in seven weeks, she smiled. Chirp.
Chirp. Gilda O’Malley wakes up and slowly arises out of her bed. Chirp. Gilda rubs her eyes slowly, wiping away the heaps of crusty yellow-green sleep that have built up around her aging eyes. The wrinkles in her face appear like canyons, etched into her once-youthful flesh by years and years of life Chirp. Eighty-seven year old Gilda knows just what she needs to do to start her day. Chirp. Slowly, Gilda manages to move her feet from the bed to the floor; still in her nightgown she begins to shuffle toward the corner of the room where a birdcage stands it covered by a tattered, grey towel. Chirp. Gilda removes the towel to reveal a canary, perched atop a swing in the middle of the cage. The chirping stops as soon as the bird makes eye-contact with Gilda, who proceeds to place some food into the cage, which the canary gleefully jumps down to the cage floor to receive “here you go, Ms. Haysworth, enjoy!” Gilda’s day has begun.
The day passed with unusual speed as Gilda went about her daily tasks: grocery shopping, bridge with the gals and finally dinner with her daughter; all of it seems to fly past for Gilda. When she arrived back at her apartment however, time suddenly began to slow down and Gilda knew something was wrong. She rushed up the narrow stairs to her bedroom as fast as her failing legs would take her and when she arrived, her biggest fear was confirmed: Ms. Haysworth had died.
Gilda had known nothing but life with her bird for so many years that without it, suddenly she felt no purpose. She had named the bird after her first grade teacher those many years ago- the woman who had inspired Gilda to become a teacher, which she did- and the loss was as crushing to her mentally as it was physically. Over the next few weeks, Gilda’s physical state deteriorated. Though old, Gilda was always a healthy woman, but now it seemed that her body was suddenly failing her.
One day, seven weeks after Ms. Haysworth’s death, Gilda awoke to a strange sight: a powerful white light encircled her bedroom. She rubbed her eyes to try to allow them to focus but she was unable to see anything but the white light. Confused, Gilda stepped off of her bed only to discover the floor felt like nothing she had ever stepped on, like a cloud draped in velvet and filled with the finest down. Suddenly Gilda saw a familiar face, confirming to her where suspected she was and for the first time in seven weeks, she smiled. Chirp.
Reddit Challenge story #14
Topic: a story about a cowboy squirrel
Not many people were able to know Max very well, but for those that did, he was a true legend. Max Richie was not like any other cowboy who anyone had ever seen. Yes, he lived on a ranch in Texas, yes he did herd cattle and other animals and yes he did wear a cowboy hat. However, there was one striking difference between Max and the other cowboys: Max was a common land squirrel.
Born on the ranch, it was clear from his youth that Max wasn’t like the other squirrels. Besides not being interested in acorns and running from dogs (he preferred to lasso them down himself) he also preferred wearing human clothes and riding full-size horses. The human cowboys were astonished at the sentient, intelligent, horse-riding squirrel and immediately decided to take him in as a member of the team. Within a few days of being brought on as a full time rancher, Max had established himself as the best cowboy in the group, wrangling cattle on the back of his Mustang faster than anyone had ever seen; he soon developed the name ‘lightning lasso’ for his amazing ability to lasso any cow within a 20 yard radius in only a few seconds.
Unfortunately for Max and his amazing talents, he was not blessed with a body designed to handle the years and rigors of human life; at age 28- longer than nearly any known squirrel- Max passed away from old age. Max will be remembered by his 48 children, four of whom are human, his human wife Sally Richie and his dozens of squirrel partners throughout the years. In Max’s years alive, thanks to prudent investment in the stock market, he was able to amass an enormous estate of over 50 million dollars. As he neared his death, Max turned to philanthropy and donated millions to create The Squirrel Protection Society, which helps protect city squirrels from the dangers of dogs, cats and cars. His will stipulated that 80% of his fortune be given to the society: donations can be made at SaveTheSquirrel.com.
Not many people were able to know Max very well, but for those that did, he was a true legend. Max Richie was not like any other cowboy who anyone had ever seen. Yes, he lived on a ranch in Texas, yes he did herd cattle and other animals and yes he did wear a cowboy hat. However, there was one striking difference between Max and the other cowboys: Max was a common land squirrel.
Born on the ranch, it was clear from his youth that Max wasn’t like the other squirrels. Besides not being interested in acorns and running from dogs (he preferred to lasso them down himself) he also preferred wearing human clothes and riding full-size horses. The human cowboys were astonished at the sentient, intelligent, horse-riding squirrel and immediately decided to take him in as a member of the team. Within a few days of being brought on as a full time rancher, Max had established himself as the best cowboy in the group, wrangling cattle on the back of his Mustang faster than anyone had ever seen; he soon developed the name ‘lightning lasso’ for his amazing ability to lasso any cow within a 20 yard radius in only a few seconds.
Unfortunately for Max and his amazing talents, he was not blessed with a body designed to handle the years and rigors of human life; at age 28- longer than nearly any known squirrel- Max passed away from old age. Max will be remembered by his 48 children, four of whom are human, his human wife Sally Richie and his dozens of squirrel partners throughout the years. In Max’s years alive, thanks to prudent investment in the stock market, he was able to amass an enormous estate of over 50 million dollars. As he neared his death, Max turned to philanthropy and donated millions to create The Squirrel Protection Society, which helps protect city squirrels from the dangers of dogs, cats and cars. His will stipulated that 80% of his fortune be given to the society: donations can be made at SaveTheSquirrel.com.
Reddit Challenge story #13
Topic: a thriller about a hacker who breaks into the pentagon, steal a bunch of classified documents, and pins it on his girlfriend.
Breaking news today this 21st of October, 2011 as the perpetrator of one of the largest cyber crimes against the government in history has been apprehended after eight years at large. Jared Bestworth hacked into the pentagon’s mainframe computer system using only a 14 year old Linux machine and his smartphone.
Over a three month period in 2003, Jared illegally entered the pentagon and used his smartphone to download and store information about the buildings network infrastructure. He then used that data to access the pentagon server system where he stole hundreds of gigabytes of classified data including information on troop movements abroad as well as nuclear secrets. Thought to be acting alone- all he did with the data was post it on the internet along with cute pictures of his cat- Bestworth was discovered hiding out in a Bed Bath and Beyond in a suburban mall outside Washington, DC: the last place anyone would suspect a person to ever set foot.
The reason Jared was able to so easily elude investigators, and so easily break into the pentagon, was his girlfriend at the time, Valerie Johansen. Valerie was an executive secretary for the office of the Secretary of Defense, and Jared would carry out his plot under the guise of visiting Valerie; little did she know he was laying down a trail of bread crumbs that would lead the investigators to her and not him. The data leak was discovered within a few hours, and within a few days the FBI had arrested Ms. Johansen at her home and thrown her in federal prison. She remained in prison for four years until she was finally released after passing a polygraph test in 2007. Now that Jared is under arrest, Ms. Johansen has formally announced she is pressing charges against Mr. Bestworth for damages in upwards of ten million dollars.
Breaking news today this 21st of October, 2011 as the perpetrator of one of the largest cyber crimes against the government in history has been apprehended after eight years at large. Jared Bestworth hacked into the pentagon’s mainframe computer system using only a 14 year old Linux machine and his smartphone.
Over a three month period in 2003, Jared illegally entered the pentagon and used his smartphone to download and store information about the buildings network infrastructure. He then used that data to access the pentagon server system where he stole hundreds of gigabytes of classified data including information on troop movements abroad as well as nuclear secrets. Thought to be acting alone- all he did with the data was post it on the internet along with cute pictures of his cat- Bestworth was discovered hiding out in a Bed Bath and Beyond in a suburban mall outside Washington, DC: the last place anyone would suspect a person to ever set foot.
The reason Jared was able to so easily elude investigators, and so easily break into the pentagon, was his girlfriend at the time, Valerie Johansen. Valerie was an executive secretary for the office of the Secretary of Defense, and Jared would carry out his plot under the guise of visiting Valerie; little did she know he was laying down a trail of bread crumbs that would lead the investigators to her and not him. The data leak was discovered within a few hours, and within a few days the FBI had arrested Ms. Johansen at her home and thrown her in federal prison. She remained in prison for four years until she was finally released after passing a polygraph test in 2007. Now that Jared is under arrest, Ms. Johansen has formally announced she is pressing charges against Mr. Bestworth for damages in upwards of ten million dollars.
Reddit Challenge story #12
Topic: a girl whose body is made up entirely of pancakes and how she overcomes her struggles and self image
Miranda Fox was not like the other girls and her parents knew it the moment she was born, the moment she was first seen in an ultrasound, really. Miranda knew it the moment she first became truly self aware, around age three. Everyone who saw Miranda knew she was not like other girls; in fact, she was not like any other person: Miranda Fox’s skin was composed of smooth, perfectly cooked buttermilk pancakes.
At first things were very difficult, Miranda’s parents had to stop her eating herself from time to time as a toddler and by the time she was old enough for preschool they suddenly had to deal with other children, and things became if anything, even more difficult. Miranda was called names like pancake face, syrup sally, batter for brains and the ever present Aunt Jemima. As Miranda made it to high school, it was evident she was having serious body image issues. Every night she would spend hours in front of the mirror, staring at herself. She would complain to her mother about not being as thin as the other girls, and not having an epidermis. For her parents, it was torture to see their little girl go through all this, so they called an expert at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota.
The doctors tirelessly researched Miranda’s case, poking and prodding and testing her in every way imaginable. Finally after months of testing, with Miranda isolated from her family, the doctors called her parents to the facility to discuss their findings. What the doctors had discovered was amazing: Miranda’s pancake skin and body regenerated faster than any other human in existence. The doctors could literally remove an entire pancake’s worth of “skin” and it would grow back within seconds; the good that Miranda could do was immense. Miranda immediately decided what she wanted to do with her life: she would devote herself to feeding the hungry with her own delicious skin. For years to come Miranda would work with organizations worldwide to help use her pancake skin to feed the world. She had overcome her struggle with her body, and Miranda had never been happier.
Miranda Fox was not like the other girls and her parents knew it the moment she was born, the moment she was first seen in an ultrasound, really. Miranda knew it the moment she first became truly self aware, around age three. Everyone who saw Miranda knew she was not like other girls; in fact, she was not like any other person: Miranda Fox’s skin was composed of smooth, perfectly cooked buttermilk pancakes.
At first things were very difficult, Miranda’s parents had to stop her eating herself from time to time as a toddler and by the time she was old enough for preschool they suddenly had to deal with other children, and things became if anything, even more difficult. Miranda was called names like pancake face, syrup sally, batter for brains and the ever present Aunt Jemima. As Miranda made it to high school, it was evident she was having serious body image issues. Every night she would spend hours in front of the mirror, staring at herself. She would complain to her mother about not being as thin as the other girls, and not having an epidermis. For her parents, it was torture to see their little girl go through all this, so they called an expert at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota.
The doctors tirelessly researched Miranda’s case, poking and prodding and testing her in every way imaginable. Finally after months of testing, with Miranda isolated from her family, the doctors called her parents to the facility to discuss their findings. What the doctors had discovered was amazing: Miranda’s pancake skin and body regenerated faster than any other human in existence. The doctors could literally remove an entire pancake’s worth of “skin” and it would grow back within seconds; the good that Miranda could do was immense. Miranda immediately decided what she wanted to do with her life: she would devote herself to feeding the hungry with her own delicious skin. For years to come Miranda would work with organizations worldwide to help use her pancake skin to feed the world. She had overcome her struggle with her body, and Miranda had never been happier.
Reddit Challenge story #11
Topic: a group of pirate cats off to find the greatest treasure in all the land
At the top of the highest crow’s nest, towering above what appears to be a 1/8th scale version of the classical interpretation of a pirate ship, a calico cat stands alone. He is wearing a bandana with a skull and cross bones on it, perched directly on his cranium; he stands upright. In his hand is a spyglass, which he casually brings up to his feline eye and peers into. He uses his paw to focus until an image comes into view: a tropical island. The calico closes up his spyglass, the look on his face could best be described as one of excitement, but the unmistakable stench of fear was evident as well. “Land ho” the calico bellowed down toward the ship deck.
The first mate, an orange tabby bearing a striking resemblance to the funny pages’ favorite feline, looks up toward the crow’s nest, his face turning to the same mix of excitement and fear, “land ho” the first mate shouts toward the deck crew. The crew suddenly all begins scurrying about, dropping their yarn balls and moving to their stations. The first mate, looking satisfied at the crew’s movement, turns and walks toward the back of the ship, and the captain’s quarters. The calico nervously gulps as he opens the door.
“What is is?” the captain cat begins, as the calico steps inside. The captain is the spitting image for captain hook, wig included, but one striking difference remains: he does not have a hook for a paw. “Well, captain…” the nervous calico begins “It seems we’ve found the island.”
Sitting at his massive desk, the captain remains calm for a few beats until he suddenly draws a knife and slams it into the map, directly over a spot that appears to be the island in question. The captain stands from his desk, looks boldly toward the calico and begins “address the men, Garfunkel, and assure them of one thing: we will discover the greatest treasure of all time: a year's supply of Meow Mix!"
At the top of the highest crow’s nest, towering above what appears to be a 1/8th scale version of the classical interpretation of a pirate ship, a calico cat stands alone. He is wearing a bandana with a skull and cross bones on it, perched directly on his cranium; he stands upright. In his hand is a spyglass, which he casually brings up to his feline eye and peers into. He uses his paw to focus until an image comes into view: a tropical island. The calico closes up his spyglass, the look on his face could best be described as one of excitement, but the unmistakable stench of fear was evident as well. “Land ho” the calico bellowed down toward the ship deck.
The first mate, an orange tabby bearing a striking resemblance to the funny pages’ favorite feline, looks up toward the crow’s nest, his face turning to the same mix of excitement and fear, “land ho” the first mate shouts toward the deck crew. The crew suddenly all begins scurrying about, dropping their yarn balls and moving to their stations. The first mate, looking satisfied at the crew’s movement, turns and walks toward the back of the ship, and the captain’s quarters. The calico nervously gulps as he opens the door.
“What is is?” the captain cat begins, as the calico steps inside. The captain is the spitting image for captain hook, wig included, but one striking difference remains: he does not have a hook for a paw. “Well, captain…” the nervous calico begins “It seems we’ve found the island.”
Sitting at his massive desk, the captain remains calm for a few beats until he suddenly draws a knife and slams it into the map, directly over a spot that appears to be the island in question. The captain stands from his desk, looks boldly toward the calico and begins “address the men, Garfunkel, and assure them of one thing: we will discover the greatest treasure of all time: a year's supply of Meow Mix!"
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Reddit Challenge story #10
Topic: The secret society of chocolate children.
In a well-lit basement room in a nondescript suburban town, children gather, about a dozen of them, shuffling about and chatting as they sit down. None of the children appear to be older than nine or ten years old, nearly all wearing normal children’s clothing: jeans, t-shirts with outlandish robots and movie characters; the girls all have on cute blouses, leggings and the like. Sitting at the front of the room there is one child who is not dressed like the others. He wears a pinstripe suit; he looks like the type of character you would expect to see in a parody of the 1920s. The child stands up from his chair slowly then begins to walk toward the middle of the front row, where a podium stands, unattended. SLAM, goes the gavel as the child smacks the wooden mallet on the podium; the kids all immediately snap to attention. The suit-wearing youth begins to speak in a thick English accent “I hereby call to order this meeting of the Secret Society of Chocolate Children.” Without missing a beat, all of the children then pull the same candy bar out of their pockets- a Hershey bar- and raise it into the air, in unison they begin to chant:
Chocolate, Chocolate! Yum yum yum.
Chocolate, Chocolate! Fun fun fun.
Though say our parents it is forbidden,
Oh how we are so smitten.
We shall stand in defiance, stand for what’s right,
We shall eat our pure chocolate, each and every night!
After they have finished singing, everyone begins to eat their Hershey bar. The suited child looks on, smiling maniacally, for he knows something that they all do not know: tonight is the night he will rob the society of all of its chocolate and rat them out to the police. He will abscond with hundreds of Hershey bars and live a life of comfort in Mexico while the rest of them rot in prison. The thought of all this makes him smile again, but as soon as he does, sirens begin to go off all around him. Everyone scrambles to hide their chocolate, and the suited child makes a break for the door. The sirens get louder and louder and when the child opens the door he is assaulted by a powerful white light.
“Billy?” Billy can hear the soothing voice of his mother, it was all a dream. “Billy, it’s time to get up for school!”
Billy rubs his eyes and looks around his room, then out his window before calmly turning to see his mother. As he begins to speak it is clear he is American “I’ll be downstairs in just a second, mom.” And with that, his mother smiles and leaves the room. Billy pulls out a notepad from under his pillow; at the top are the words ‘to-do list’ and below it are the words ‘Buy a pinstripe suit’ and 'adopt an English accent' Billy reaches across his bed to the nightstand to pick up a pen, and then slowly he writes out “Start the secret society of chocolate children.”
In a well-lit basement room in a nondescript suburban town, children gather, about a dozen of them, shuffling about and chatting as they sit down. None of the children appear to be older than nine or ten years old, nearly all wearing normal children’s clothing: jeans, t-shirts with outlandish robots and movie characters; the girls all have on cute blouses, leggings and the like. Sitting at the front of the room there is one child who is not dressed like the others. He wears a pinstripe suit; he looks like the type of character you would expect to see in a parody of the 1920s. The child stands up from his chair slowly then begins to walk toward the middle of the front row, where a podium stands, unattended. SLAM, goes the gavel as the child smacks the wooden mallet on the podium; the kids all immediately snap to attention. The suit-wearing youth begins to speak in a thick English accent “I hereby call to order this meeting of the Secret Society of Chocolate Children.” Without missing a beat, all of the children then pull the same candy bar out of their pockets- a Hershey bar- and raise it into the air, in unison they begin to chant:
Chocolate, Chocolate! Yum yum yum.
Chocolate, Chocolate! Fun fun fun.
Though say our parents it is forbidden,
Oh how we are so smitten.
We shall stand in defiance, stand for what’s right,
We shall eat our pure chocolate, each and every night!
After they have finished singing, everyone begins to eat their Hershey bar. The suited child looks on, smiling maniacally, for he knows something that they all do not know: tonight is the night he will rob the society of all of its chocolate and rat them out to the police. He will abscond with hundreds of Hershey bars and live a life of comfort in Mexico while the rest of them rot in prison. The thought of all this makes him smile again, but as soon as he does, sirens begin to go off all around him. Everyone scrambles to hide their chocolate, and the suited child makes a break for the door. The sirens get louder and louder and when the child opens the door he is assaulted by a powerful white light.
“Billy?” Billy can hear the soothing voice of his mother, it was all a dream. “Billy, it’s time to get up for school!”
Billy rubs his eyes and looks around his room, then out his window before calmly turning to see his mother. As he begins to speak it is clear he is American “I’ll be downstairs in just a second, mom.” And with that, his mother smiles and leaves the room. Billy pulls out a notepad from under his pillow; at the top are the words ‘to-do list’ and below it are the words ‘Buy a pinstripe suit’ and 'adopt an English accent' Billy reaches across his bed to the nightstand to pick up a pen, and then slowly he writes out “Start the secret society of chocolate children.”
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Reddit Challenge story #9
Theme: “An old man goes for his last walk of his life. It is autumn, grey skies, crisp, cool air.”
It is autumn. The sky is grey; the air, crisp and cool, flows through the trees. Leaves, wrinkled and browned, are tossed effortlessly into the air, forming patterns more beautiful than any artist could dream of. It is the kind of autumn night that stirs up emotions, the cold air darkening the mood and the clouds obscuring the moon. Arnold Babish walks alone amidst the trees.
He walks slowly, but with determination. He is wearing tan pants and a navy sweater, providing him little protection from the wind. In Arnold’s mind, decades of memories are playing back. D-Day, Cherbourg, Market Garden, the Eagles Nest. Arnold struggles as the memories overcome him.
Before his eyes he can see Tom, Joey and Rich, his best friends in the unit. They stand amidst the flowing leaves as if they had been brought back mysteriously from 1944, unharmed. Arnold immediately recalls all three of their deaths in detail. Arnold can see the moment when Tom was hit accidentally by English artillery; they tried their best to save him but the bleeding was too great. He then sees Joey and Rich’s death, at the hands of the Nazi’s at Carentan; they were outflanked by German infantry and though Arnold and his unit were able to take out nearly half of the German contingent, they still managed to hit Joey and Rich. Arnold falls to his knees and grips his heart.
Arnold bends over in pain, then struggles to lift himself upright. Slowly he manages to turn up to the images of his friend. “Joey, Tom, Rich…” Arnold whispers “I only wish I could have joined you sooner.”
It is autumn. The sky is grey; the air, crisp and cool, flows through the trees. Leaves, wrinkled and browned, are tossed effortlessly into the air, forming patterns more beautiful than any artist could dream of. It is the kind of autumn night that stirs up emotions, the cold air darkening the mood and the clouds obscuring the moon. Arnold Babish walks alone amidst the trees.
He walks slowly, but with determination. He is wearing tan pants and a navy sweater, providing him little protection from the wind. In Arnold’s mind, decades of memories are playing back. D-Day, Cherbourg, Market Garden, the Eagles Nest. Arnold struggles as the memories overcome him.
Before his eyes he can see Tom, Joey and Rich, his best friends in the unit. They stand amidst the flowing leaves as if they had been brought back mysteriously from 1944, unharmed. Arnold immediately recalls all three of their deaths in detail. Arnold can see the moment when Tom was hit accidentally by English artillery; they tried their best to save him but the bleeding was too great. He then sees Joey and Rich’s death, at the hands of the Nazi’s at Carentan; they were outflanked by German infantry and though Arnold and his unit were able to take out nearly half of the German contingent, they still managed to hit Joey and Rich. Arnold falls to his knees and grips his heart.
Arnold bends over in pain, then struggles to lift himself upright. Slowly he manages to turn up to the images of his friend. “Joey, Tom, Rich…” Arnold whispers “I only wish I could have joined you sooner.”
Reddit Challenge story #8
Topic: The Pope switches jobs with Obama.
In an absolutely unprecedented move in world history on the 12th of November, 2011, head of the Catholic Church Pope Benedict XVI and President of the United States Barack Obama agreed to switch jobs with one another. By doing so they would forever change the landscape of politics, and the landscape of the Earth itself. With the United States being a secular state and President Obama not being Catholic, countless problems arose early on, causing devastation on wide levels. The first to strike were the Catholics.
In the Pope’s first public speech from the White House, he denounced the Vatican State and Catholicism as being ungodly and sinful; he then proclaimed that he had been instructed by The Lord God Himself to head a new religion, called Americolicism. Obama believed that the entire event up until those statements was a simple joke they decided to play on the citizens of the world (The Pope had after all, agreed that it would all be “a hilarious prank” to switch places for a few days, when they met over beers secretly in Berlin in 2009.) However, when he saw the saw footage of the speech he was outraged. Knowing he had made a mistake, he attempted to call the armed services to arrest The Pope, only to realize he no longer had the authority to do so.
President Pope Benedict XVI interpreted the actions of Pope Obama I to be an act of war and immediately decided to launch a nuclear attack on the Vatican State. Normally, various members of the chain of command each carry separate pieces of the nuclear codes so that the weapons cannot be used by one person without any additional consent. President Pope Benedict however, had most of congress already converted to Americolicism, and he replaced all of the cabinet and senior staff with former Catholic Church leaders; he could use the bombs as he pleased.
End?
In an absolutely unprecedented move in world history on the 12th of November, 2011, head of the Catholic Church Pope Benedict XVI and President of the United States Barack Obama agreed to switch jobs with one another. By doing so they would forever change the landscape of politics, and the landscape of the Earth itself. With the United States being a secular state and President Obama not being Catholic, countless problems arose early on, causing devastation on wide levels. The first to strike were the Catholics.
In the Pope’s first public speech from the White House, he denounced the Vatican State and Catholicism as being ungodly and sinful; he then proclaimed that he had been instructed by The Lord God Himself to head a new religion, called Americolicism. Obama believed that the entire event up until those statements was a simple joke they decided to play on the citizens of the world (The Pope had after all, agreed that it would all be “a hilarious prank” to switch places for a few days, when they met over beers secretly in Berlin in 2009.) However, when he saw the saw footage of the speech he was outraged. Knowing he had made a mistake, he attempted to call the armed services to arrest The Pope, only to realize he no longer had the authority to do so.
President Pope Benedict XVI interpreted the actions of Pope Obama I to be an act of war and immediately decided to launch a nuclear attack on the Vatican State. Normally, various members of the chain of command each carry separate pieces of the nuclear codes so that the weapons cannot be used by one person without any additional consent. President Pope Benedict however, had most of congress already converted to Americolicism, and he replaced all of the cabinet and senior staff with former Catholic Church leaders; he could use the bombs as he pleased.
End?
Reddit Challenge story #7
Topic: Steven Hawking’s trip to Disneyland.
You would think that Steven Hawking visiting Disneyland is a little absurd. He is, after all, a quadriplegic and a cursory glance through his assorted written works would seem to show he has very little interest in games and rides. That is why when Steven Hawking visited Disneyland, he did not actually go on any rides, or play any games. Steven Hawking had been invited to Disneyland not to see the amusement park, but to visit the secret underground bunker belonging to the Disney Imagineers. Deep in the depths below the magic castle, a team of Imagineers had just finished work on the first ever black hole created in a laboratory setting.
Hawking, a champion of black hole science, was invited secretly to preview the device by then-living Disney board member Steve Jobs. The meeting was played off for the media as a humorous excursion put on my Matt Groening and David X. Cohen of Futurama where they would use clips of Hawking talking during the rides for a future episode. The truth was stranger than fiction, of course.
When Hawking entered the lab to see the black hole, what he discovered was as amazing as it was terrifying. The black hole was sucking up everything in sight. A computer, benches, tables, anything that was not bolted to the floor was being sucked into the black hole. Hawking immediately knew what the problem was: the black hole was created using an unstable isotope of Uranium, manufactured by the same child labor that produces Disney toys in China. The black hole was already unstoppable and Hawking was only able to get out two last robotic-sounding words before being sucked in “Tupac. Lives.”
You would think that Steven Hawking visiting Disneyland is a little absurd. He is, after all, a quadriplegic and a cursory glance through his assorted written works would seem to show he has very little interest in games and rides. That is why when Steven Hawking visited Disneyland, he did not actually go on any rides, or play any games. Steven Hawking had been invited to Disneyland not to see the amusement park, but to visit the secret underground bunker belonging to the Disney Imagineers. Deep in the depths below the magic castle, a team of Imagineers had just finished work on the first ever black hole created in a laboratory setting.
Hawking, a champion of black hole science, was invited secretly to preview the device by then-living Disney board member Steve Jobs. The meeting was played off for the media as a humorous excursion put on my Matt Groening and David X. Cohen of Futurama where they would use clips of Hawking talking during the rides for a future episode. The truth was stranger than fiction, of course.
When Hawking entered the lab to see the black hole, what he discovered was as amazing as it was terrifying. The black hole was sucking up everything in sight. A computer, benches, tables, anything that was not bolted to the floor was being sucked into the black hole. Hawking immediately knew what the problem was: the black hole was created using an unstable isotope of Uranium, manufactured by the same child labor that produces Disney toys in China. The black hole was already unstoppable and Hawking was only able to get out two last robotic-sounding words before being sucked in “Tupac. Lives.”
Reddit Challenge story #6
Topic: A mouse and a fly on a glue trap.
Murray was only eight days old, in the prime of his life, when tragedy struck. Murray had thought the trap was food, it looked like food, it smelled like food and when he landed it even tasted like food; but then he realized what was going on. Murray was trapped on a glue trap with no escape in sight. For two days Murray tried with all his strength to fly away but he was unable to lift off. He tried to walk away but was unable to move. Finally at the end of day two, realizing he had wasted the prime of his life, Murray decided to give up.
One day later, as Murray sat awaiting his fate, fate arrived. A mouse- having caught the smell- dashed over to the trap. “This is it!” Murray thought, “I’m saved!” However, Murray had spoken too soon as the mouse did not come to save him, and instead became trapped itself.
The two spent the rest of the day talking, and Murray discovered that the mouse was named Jeff and he had been separated from his family while chasing a particularly delicious looking piece of stepped-on cheese. Jeff had one problem, though: he did not know how to shut up. At all hours of the day and night, Jeff would blab to Murray about his life, his family and cheese. Murray, being a fly with hexagonal, compound eyes was unable to roll his eyes to show his disgust. Instead he simply endured the torture of an annoying mouse, thinking that death would soon take him out of his misery.
It didn’t though, because the next day, Murray awoke to discover something amazing: he was in his bed! The whole thing had been a dream! Murray rushed downstairs to greet his wife, her wings looking as beautiful as ever. He hugged her with a passion she hadn’t felt since they first started dating. “I love you so much” he said to her, “I never want to leave you.”
From that day forward, Murray became a stay at home dad, tending to the kids while his wife flew around for food. Little did he realize that his dream was a sign. His wife would become trapped the next week.
Murray was only eight days old, in the prime of his life, when tragedy struck. Murray had thought the trap was food, it looked like food, it smelled like food and when he landed it even tasted like food; but then he realized what was going on. Murray was trapped on a glue trap with no escape in sight. For two days Murray tried with all his strength to fly away but he was unable to lift off. He tried to walk away but was unable to move. Finally at the end of day two, realizing he had wasted the prime of his life, Murray decided to give up.
One day later, as Murray sat awaiting his fate, fate arrived. A mouse- having caught the smell- dashed over to the trap. “This is it!” Murray thought, “I’m saved!” However, Murray had spoken too soon as the mouse did not come to save him, and instead became trapped itself.
The two spent the rest of the day talking, and Murray discovered that the mouse was named Jeff and he had been separated from his family while chasing a particularly delicious looking piece of stepped-on cheese. Jeff had one problem, though: he did not know how to shut up. At all hours of the day and night, Jeff would blab to Murray about his life, his family and cheese. Murray, being a fly with hexagonal, compound eyes was unable to roll his eyes to show his disgust. Instead he simply endured the torture of an annoying mouse, thinking that death would soon take him out of his misery.
It didn’t though, because the next day, Murray awoke to discover something amazing: he was in his bed! The whole thing had been a dream! Murray rushed downstairs to greet his wife, her wings looking as beautiful as ever. He hugged her with a passion she hadn’t felt since they first started dating. “I love you so much” he said to her, “I never want to leave you.”
From that day forward, Murray became a stay at home dad, tending to the kids while his wife flew around for food. Little did he realize that his dream was a sign. His wife would become trapped the next week.
Reddit Challenge story #5
This was probably the strangest topic I will choose to cover...
Topic: The story about how Reddit user Battymo wins the lottery and buys a zoo full of animals. Sexy animals.
“You want what, ma’am?” asked the general manager of the Cincinnati Zoo, staring across his desk at a woman dressed in what could only be described as a velvet kangaroo costume.
“I want the entire zoo, and I am prepared to pay for it” said the woman in the velvet kangaroo costume “and please…” she purred “call me Battymo.”
The general manager looked down at the papers on his desk and looked back up at Battymo, puzzled. The manager looked toward his window out at the zoo, the zoo he had managed for 20 years, and then back at Battymo and sternly blurted out “It’s going to cost you 18 million.”
Without missing a beat Battymo screamed back “done!” And with that, she pulled out her checkbook from her massive pouch, wrote out a check and placed it on the table. “Brian…” she calmly whispers, looking at the manager “you’re fired.”
The next day, after Battymo had cleared the zoo of visitors and staff, she made her way to the animal cages to look them over. In moments she spotted a particularly beautiful horse and walked past it, swaying her hips with each step.
The horse stared straight ahead as she passed in front of him, and as soon as her back was turned he turned his head and stared at her swaying buttocks. “Well nayhayhayhayhayyyyyyy.”
Topic: The story about how Reddit user Battymo wins the lottery and buys a zoo full of animals. Sexy animals.
“You want what, ma’am?” asked the general manager of the Cincinnati Zoo, staring across his desk at a woman dressed in what could only be described as a velvet kangaroo costume.
“I want the entire zoo, and I am prepared to pay for it” said the woman in the velvet kangaroo costume “and please…” she purred “call me Battymo.”
The general manager looked down at the papers on his desk and looked back up at Battymo, puzzled. The manager looked toward his window out at the zoo, the zoo he had managed for 20 years, and then back at Battymo and sternly blurted out “It’s going to cost you 18 million.”
Without missing a beat Battymo screamed back “done!” And with that, she pulled out her checkbook from her massive pouch, wrote out a check and placed it on the table. “Brian…” she calmly whispers, looking at the manager “you’re fired.”
The next day, after Battymo had cleared the zoo of visitors and staff, she made her way to the animal cages to look them over. In moments she spotted a particularly beautiful horse and walked past it, swaying her hips with each step.
The horse stared straight ahead as she passed in front of him, and as soon as her back was turned he turned his head and stared at her swaying buttocks. “Well nayhayhayhayhayyyyyyy.”
Sunday, October 16, 2011
Reddit Challenge story #4
Police brutality against OWS protestors from a cop's POV.
I was never what you would call a stereotypical cop. I was never involved in crazy on-foot pursuits of most-wanted drug kingpins; I never fired my weapon in combat, much less in a blazing gunfight amidst a burning building. The guys down at the precinct used to call me ‘the mark’ because in the game of cops vs. criminals vs. their marks, I always seemed like the oblivious, carefree mark about to get whacked. Of course, they called me ‘the mark’ as a joke, and we all ragged on each other; but last week, everything changed.
I got assigned to the protest because, lets face it, nobody in Washington much less anybody in the NYPD takes these protesters too seriously. I didn’t, and I still don’t, but that doesn’t change what happened…
It was a nice day and the park was filled with people, I was posted on the southwest corner, near a small street band, performing throughout the day. Every few minutes I would step over to the group of people surrounding the band and look in to see if anything suspicious was happening. For most of the day, all was routine. I began to fall back into thoughts about my fiancé, and thoughts about the baby that was due in just four months! In four months I was going to be a father or a mother. What would that be like, how would I change, how would my wife?
Just as I began to delve into another round of thought, I realize it was time to check the band once again. I began to politely move my way through the crowd when a man I bumped into became agitated. He screamed at me that I was invading his privacy and violating his rights, and before I knew it, six or seven of the people around him had circled me and joined in the screaming. I held my hand at my waist, just above the handle of my pistol. The group of people got louder and drew closer to me, their yelling masked from my fellow officers by the noise of the band. Immediately I noticed the man I had bumped into was drawing a knife from his pocket. He lunged at me with the knife. It was obvious he was not very adept at stabbing as I was able to grab the knife and subdue him immediately. However, this caused the group to become agitated even more, and people began to grab at me, pulling my shirt and trying to take my walkie talkie and badge. Seeing my options collapse with an angry, knife wielding teenager at my feet, I pulled out my mace and sprayed around me. As soon as the crowd dispersed enough where I could reach the button, I called for backup. It was all over in seconds.
What is my wife going to say, what will my child think when he or she finds out what I did? I only did what I needed to protect myself, I didn’t break any laws. I don’t even disagree with the protestors. Why do I have to be the one on trial?
I was never what you would call a stereotypical cop. I was never involved in crazy on-foot pursuits of most-wanted drug kingpins; I never fired my weapon in combat, much less in a blazing gunfight amidst a burning building. The guys down at the precinct used to call me ‘the mark’ because in the game of cops vs. criminals vs. their marks, I always seemed like the oblivious, carefree mark about to get whacked. Of course, they called me ‘the mark’ as a joke, and we all ragged on each other; but last week, everything changed.
I got assigned to the protest because, lets face it, nobody in Washington much less anybody in the NYPD takes these protesters too seriously. I didn’t, and I still don’t, but that doesn’t change what happened…
It was a nice day and the park was filled with people, I was posted on the southwest corner, near a small street band, performing throughout the day. Every few minutes I would step over to the group of people surrounding the band and look in to see if anything suspicious was happening. For most of the day, all was routine. I began to fall back into thoughts about my fiancé, and thoughts about the baby that was due in just four months! In four months I was going to be a father or a mother. What would that be like, how would I change, how would my wife?
Just as I began to delve into another round of thought, I realize it was time to check the band once again. I began to politely move my way through the crowd when a man I bumped into became agitated. He screamed at me that I was invading his privacy and violating his rights, and before I knew it, six or seven of the people around him had circled me and joined in the screaming. I held my hand at my waist, just above the handle of my pistol. The group of people got louder and drew closer to me, their yelling masked from my fellow officers by the noise of the band. Immediately I noticed the man I had bumped into was drawing a knife from his pocket. He lunged at me with the knife. It was obvious he was not very adept at stabbing as I was able to grab the knife and subdue him immediately. However, this caused the group to become agitated even more, and people began to grab at me, pulling my shirt and trying to take my walkie talkie and badge. Seeing my options collapse with an angry, knife wielding teenager at my feet, I pulled out my mace and sprayed around me. As soon as the crowd dispersed enough where I could reach the button, I called for backup. It was all over in seconds.
What is my wife going to say, what will my child think when he or she finds out what I did? I only did what I needed to protect myself, I didn’t break any laws. I don’t even disagree with the protestors. Why do I have to be the one on trial?
Reddit Challenge story #3
The Fall of the Roman Empire
Simeus Finteleus was not a criminal. He had never stolen anything in his life, he never slandered his neighbor, he never struck his wife. Simeus Finteleus had been in prison for the past 25 years. A corrupt Roman official had despised Simeus because his fabric shop competed with that of the official’s brother. Rather than deal with the problem head-on, the official had Simeus framed for a series of malicious crimes. Being that Simeus was a Jew, it was easy for the official to pin a false crime on him without the public inquiring as much into the details- at the time a Jew was generally an equal but still discriminated against. Simeus plead his case in court, but the official had bribed the judges. Simeus’ rabbi, a highly respected member of the Roman community, even tried to step in, but before his appeals could be heard, the official stepped in and stopped it. Simeus had suffered for 25 years, but today he would be free.
The Roman Empire had fallen, the civilization that once ruled the world had collapsed, and along with it, the official who had imprisoned Simeus. In fact, all those imprisoned no longer had anyone to control them. After informing the prisoners of the news, the guards opened the gates and let everyone go. Simeus rushed home to his family. As he ran to his home, Simeus wondered what would have become of them in the years he had not had any contact with him. His infant daughter, his seven year old son, his beautiful wife; what will have happened in 25 years? Simeus wondered if his wife would have taken a new husband, if his daughter had a husband of her own! Simeus grew distressed as he opened the door. As he saw his house revealed before him, he saw his wife, and his two now-adult children sitting by the fire. Surprised they looked up toward Simeus. His wife’s eyes widened, and a smile emerged after years of fear and loneliness, she ran up to embrace him.
“Oh Simeus, I knew you were alive, and I knew you were innocent, we all did! We thought we might never see you again, but the love we shared kept my hope alive.” His wife gushed as she embraced Simeus with the lost love of 25 years. “Thanks Jupiter for the fall of the Roman Empire!”
Simeus Finteleus was not a criminal. He had never stolen anything in his life, he never slandered his neighbor, he never struck his wife. Simeus Finteleus had been in prison for the past 25 years. A corrupt Roman official had despised Simeus because his fabric shop competed with that of the official’s brother. Rather than deal with the problem head-on, the official had Simeus framed for a series of malicious crimes. Being that Simeus was a Jew, it was easy for the official to pin a false crime on him without the public inquiring as much into the details- at the time a Jew was generally an equal but still discriminated against. Simeus plead his case in court, but the official had bribed the judges. Simeus’ rabbi, a highly respected member of the Roman community, even tried to step in, but before his appeals could be heard, the official stepped in and stopped it. Simeus had suffered for 25 years, but today he would be free.
The Roman Empire had fallen, the civilization that once ruled the world had collapsed, and along with it, the official who had imprisoned Simeus. In fact, all those imprisoned no longer had anyone to control them. After informing the prisoners of the news, the guards opened the gates and let everyone go. Simeus rushed home to his family. As he ran to his home, Simeus wondered what would have become of them in the years he had not had any contact with him. His infant daughter, his seven year old son, his beautiful wife; what will have happened in 25 years? Simeus wondered if his wife would have taken a new husband, if his daughter had a husband of her own! Simeus grew distressed as he opened the door. As he saw his house revealed before him, he saw his wife, and his two now-adult children sitting by the fire. Surprised they looked up toward Simeus. His wife’s eyes widened, and a smile emerged after years of fear and loneliness, she ran up to embrace him.
“Oh Simeus, I knew you were alive, and I knew you were innocent, we all did! We thought we might never see you again, but the love we shared kept my hope alive.” His wife gushed as she embraced Simeus with the lost love of 25 years. “Thanks Jupiter for the fall of the Roman Empire!”
Reddit Challenge story #2
Underwater Basket Weaving Tragedy.
Amos Diaz lived a life that few people could imagine, and even fewer people would ever experience. For a man like Amos, the most difficult of tasks came easy and the most profound realizations became simplistic. Amos excelled in all of his pursuits, and raised a lovely family with his wife, who he had met in High School. Amos so excelled at the pursuits of the norm that he came to seek pursuits above and beyond the norm. He was not happy in life if not engaged in a challenge, and the level of challenge he required for satisfaction was greater than that of 10 men’s greatest challenges combined. This is how Amos discovered the CUBWA, the Competitive Underwater Basket Weaving Association.
At age 16, Amos competed in his first youth underwater basket weaving challenge and astounded judges by completing his basket 1 minute and 47 seconds faster than the runner up. With the top basket weavers in the nation at the time rarely defeating their opponents by more than a few tenths of a second, Amos was in another league before even reaching the pros. Amos went on to weave professionally, and won 6 consecutive World Underwater Basket Weaving Championships before his death yesterday in Sydney, Australia. While competing in an exhibition weave at a depth of 20 meters, he became tangled in his supplies and drowned. Rescue workers were unable to obtain his body as it was immediately devoured by a shark. The tragedy is that he was only 26 years old.
Amos Diaz lived a life that few people could imagine, and even fewer people would ever experience. For a man like Amos, the most difficult of tasks came easy and the most profound realizations became simplistic. Amos excelled in all of his pursuits, and raised a lovely family with his wife, who he had met in High School. Amos so excelled at the pursuits of the norm that he came to seek pursuits above and beyond the norm. He was not happy in life if not engaged in a challenge, and the level of challenge he required for satisfaction was greater than that of 10 men’s greatest challenges combined. This is how Amos discovered the CUBWA, the Competitive Underwater Basket Weaving Association.
At age 16, Amos competed in his first youth underwater basket weaving challenge and astounded judges by completing his basket 1 minute and 47 seconds faster than the runner up. With the top basket weavers in the nation at the time rarely defeating their opponents by more than a few tenths of a second, Amos was in another league before even reaching the pros. Amos went on to weave professionally, and won 6 consecutive World Underwater Basket Weaving Championships before his death yesterday in Sydney, Australia. While competing in an exhibition weave at a depth of 20 meters, he became tangled in his supplies and drowned. Rescue workers were unable to obtain his body as it was immediately devoured by a shark. The tragedy is that he was only 26 years old.
Reddit Challenge story #1
The Founding of Dunkin Donuts:
Smoke billows in a darkened boardroom. Six men sit at the table, they look like the type of men you would imagine are fueling the current wall-street debacle; at the front of the table one man, wearing an expertly tailored pinstripe suit, puffs on a cigar like a king, savoring each breath.
“The time has come, men” the cigar-smoking man says, taking a long drag on his cigar before letting the smoke flow effortlessly above his face. The men all nod in agreement, as they begin to flip through their paperwork. One man, appearing to be in his mid 30s, wears a grey suit and looks at his paperwork
“I” the grey-suited man begins; the wrinkles on his face unable to hide his distress. “I cannot condone this, I cannot accept this. I cannot be a part of this. I have to go” The man then stands up, gathers his paperwork and walks out of the room.
The man sitting next to him appears to be much older; he wears a blue polo shirt and khaki slacks. As the man in the grey suit walks away he looks toward the cigar smoker curiously. “What the hell was that Frank? I thought you told me the little twerp was in?” The man with the cigar takes another slow pull and looks toward the end of the table, appearing to stare into the nothingness beyond the dull light. “This was as unexpected for me as it was for you, Mr. Ashworth, now I suggest you pipe down before-“
Just before Frank is able to finish, Mr. Ashworth interrupts “before what? You whack me? You sick fuck!” In a near instant after Mr. Ashworth finishes, Frank stands up abruptly. The other four men erupt in angry, frantic yelling for several seconds before Frank retrieves a revolver from his coat and fires a round into Mr. Ashworth. Ashworth collapses out of his chair and the four men look on in astonishment. Frank allows them to process the event for a few seconds before finally speaking “Does anyone else want to pull out as an investor in my donut shop?”
End.
Smoke billows in a darkened boardroom. Six men sit at the table, they look like the type of men you would imagine are fueling the current wall-street debacle; at the front of the table one man, wearing an expertly tailored pinstripe suit, puffs on a cigar like a king, savoring each breath.
“The time has come, men” the cigar-smoking man says, taking a long drag on his cigar before letting the smoke flow effortlessly above his face. The men all nod in agreement, as they begin to flip through their paperwork. One man, appearing to be in his mid 30s, wears a grey suit and looks at his paperwork
“I” the grey-suited man begins; the wrinkles on his face unable to hide his distress. “I cannot condone this, I cannot accept this. I cannot be a part of this. I have to go” The man then stands up, gathers his paperwork and walks out of the room.
The man sitting next to him appears to be much older; he wears a blue polo shirt and khaki slacks. As the man in the grey suit walks away he looks toward the cigar smoker curiously. “What the hell was that Frank? I thought you told me the little twerp was in?” The man with the cigar takes another slow pull and looks toward the end of the table, appearing to stare into the nothingness beyond the dull light. “This was as unexpected for me as it was for you, Mr. Ashworth, now I suggest you pipe down before-“
Just before Frank is able to finish, Mr. Ashworth interrupts “before what? You whack me? You sick fuck!” In a near instant after Mr. Ashworth finishes, Frank stands up abruptly. The other four men erupt in angry, frantic yelling for several seconds before Frank retrieves a revolver from his coat and fires a round into Mr. Ashworth. Ashworth collapses out of his chair and the four men look on in astonishment. Frank allows them to process the event for a few seconds before finally speaking “Does anyone else want to pull out as an investor in my donut shop?”
End.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Prosperity, thy name is dumplings.
I just had one of the best eating experiences I have ever had in New York City, and it only cost me two bucks. That's less than a soft pretzel at most food carts.
What I had was 10 fried potstickers from a little joint called Prosperity Dumplings, just off Canal Street in Chinatown. At a dollar for five, it is one of the best food deals in the city. Each dumpling is hand made, from fresh ingredients and fried on the spot, the resulting taste experience is simply immaculate. Each bite of the pork and chive filled dumplings tops the next, like a grand symphony for your taste buds, playing a full-force encore over and over. There simple is no place where you can get more food for less, or more flavor for less. Cheap and cheerful? I think so.
What I had was 10 fried potstickers from a little joint called Prosperity Dumplings, just off Canal Street in Chinatown. At a dollar for five, it is one of the best food deals in the city. Each dumpling is hand made, from fresh ingredients and fried on the spot, the resulting taste experience is simply immaculate. Each bite of the pork and chive filled dumplings tops the next, like a grand symphony for your taste buds, playing a full-force encore over and over. There simple is no place where you can get more food for less, or more flavor for less. Cheap and cheerful? I think so.
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
A Titan is gone. Steve Jobs dead at 56.
It feels like the first real death of the technology age. Jobs is gone and the computer world needs someone new to lead the way in the future and I just don't know who it could be. I mocked Apple on this blog, and yet you always feel respect someone who did so much to move the industry forward. I may have even said I hated Mr. Jobs from time to time, but I was always hiding a secret: I loved my iPod. RIP Steve Jobs.
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