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Nip and Tuck
Here is my contribution to Friday Fictioneers for this week. Friday Fictioneers is a 100-ish word challenge hosted by Rochelle over at Addicted to Purple.
You’d think I’d have a million ideas for this week’s photo, contributed by Jean L. Hays. But no! It started off as comedy dialogue, but it got shreddited (shredded during editing – get it?).
I ended up trying to make a point. Sort of. Maybe. Then I shreddited this version as well. Not really my thing, but here it is anyway.
Click on the blue frog to see other contributions for this week.
Copyright Jean L Hays
Once, Adam Automobile had been happy.
But the cars on the billboards and in the adverts looked so – sexy! Suddenly his corners weren’t sharp enough. His lines weren’t sleek enough.
So… a nip here. A tuck there. A shovel on the front. Digger welded on the back. Made him look like a scorpion.
This is an improvement. Isn’t it?
Fame, fortune, women!
They’d laughed at him. They’d all laughed at him.
So here he sat, his bodywork mutilated in the pursuit of an impossible dream, a fantasy look.
But… maybe… a little more bodywork. Just a little nip here, a tuck there…
Once, Adam Automobile had been happy.
Altered Reality
It’s Wednesday, and we all know what that means, don’t we? That’s right, Friday Fictioneers, the Friday writing challenge on a Wednesday! The photo we will be writing our 100-ish word stories about this week has been contributed by Melanie Greenwood and our host as always is Rochelle over at Addicted to Purple.
To read all the other stories for this week, click on the little blue frog below.
The window in this week’s photo looks tailor-made for someone to go flying through, don’t you think? 🙂
Copyright Melanie Greenwood
As head tester for ImmersiveTech Games, Jeff was hugely impressed by their latest virtual reality prototype. “Moving” into the simulated hotel room, he could sense the fear of his victims, feel their blood splatter his face as he pulled the trigger. He yelled with joy at the experience as a grenade exploded, blowing his avatar through the window onto the balcony.
“GAME OVER.”
His brain registered the simulated impact and shut down, believing he had died. Moments later, his body followed.
As his corpse was removed, a researcher made notes on his tablet.
Too realistic. Reduce bio-feedback.
Bribe coroner. Again.
Hire new tester.
In Plain Sight
It’s Friday Fictioneers time again, and I hear that it’s Rochelle’s second year anniversary as fearless leader of our little group. Congratulations, Rochelle, and thank you!
For the second week in a row I had trouble thinking of a story and I eventually ended up with this. I hope you enjoy it! The photo this week was contributed by The Reclining Gentleman.
Don’t forget to click on the little blue froggie to see all this week’s other contributions.
Copyright The Reclining Gentleman
Maximillian Zerrissen gazed mournfully across the lake. Behind him were plaques which, when depressed in the correct order, would cause the water to drain away to reveal a huge dish capable of focussing his patented death ray.
When he had started building his secret evil lair all this had been woodland. Due to a combination of recession and labour shortages, it had taken so long to complete that a whole community had sprung up around the site. Somebody would be bound to notice his evil-doing.
The waste of money smarted less than his subsequent demotion within the evil-doers community from “Evil Genius” to “Second Henchman”. Read, “Cannon Fodder“.
Singleness of Purpose
Here’s my contribution for this week’s Friday Fictioneers. This is a 100-ish word photo prompt hosted by Rochelle – be sure to check out her blog! – and this week the photo has been contributed by fellow Fictioneerer Douglas M. MacIlroy. Thanks, Doug!
To view all the other contributions for this week, click the little blue fellow below. Check back often as more are added during the week. Why not have a go yourself? It’s fun 🙂
Copyright Douglas M. MacIlroy
Resolute of purpose, the dreaded Snail Army made its ponderous way towards the art display.
“Look, my soldiers!” roared Snail-Commander. “Our shelled fellows, captured and affixed to wood! We shall rescue them!”
“LIBERATE! LIBERATE!” came the reply.
“We shall destroy their captors!”
“ELIMINATE! ELIMINATE!”
“And then, victorious, we shall eat, drink and be merry!”
“FORNICATE! FORNICATE!”
“Come, death or glory awai… hang on, is that lettuce over there?”
The dreaded Snail Army swivelled to look.
“I believe it is, Commander,” said Snail-Sergeant.
“My friends, we have a new goal!”
Resolute of purpose, the dreaded Snail Army made its ponderous way towards the salad bowl.
On a Promise
It’s Friday Fictioneers time here on the interwebz. This is a 100 word photo challenge, and this week said photo has been supplied by our lovely and talented host, Rochelle!
If you would like to take part, head over here, check out the instructions and then leave a link to your story via the little blue froggie fellow (where you can also find all this week’s other contributions).
I didn’t see “death” in this week’s photo, so I apologise to any of my regulars who are expecting horror, gore and whatnot.
Copyright Rochelle Wissoff-Fields
Bored, Simeon placed his drink down and began drumming on the bar with two cocktail sticks, tapping his foot in time. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a raven-haired beauty gliding across the room towards him.
“Come with me,” she whispered. “We will make beautiful music together.”
In a daze, Simeon enjoyed the seductive sway of her hips as she led him from the bar.
Her apartment was filled with a flowing melody as her nimble fingers danced over the keys. As he tapped out the rhythm on a snare drum, Simeon reflected morosely that this wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind.
Psycho Pete
It’s time for Friday Fictioneers here in blog-land, hosted as always by Rochelle over at Addicted to Purple. The goal is to write 100-ish words in response to a photo prompt, which this week has been contributed by Kent Bonham.
What is this week’s photo of, I wonder? I thought of an idea within a second of seeing it. Is my idea funny, sick, gross or disturbing? You be the judge.
To see this week’s other entries, click on the blue frog guy, and check back during the week as more stories are added.
Copyright Kent Bonham
“What’s that?” asked Frank.
“It’s the ‘pain stick’,” replied Pete, hitting Frank over the head with it. A mess of blood and innards spurted out.
“Ugh!” screamed Frank. “What the hell?”
“I squished a rodent and shoved a stick up…”
“GROSS! Get it away from me! You’re sick!”
“Hello? Petey?” came a small voice from the doorway.
“Oh God,” muttered Pete under his breath, “it’s my baby sister.” Then louder, “What?”
The little girl looked close to tears. “Have oo seen Hawwy Hamster? He not in his cage.”
The colour drained from Frank’s face. Pete grinned maniacally, eyes ablaze.
Sabotage!
Friday Fictioneers is a weekly photo prompt-inspired flash fiction challenge hosted by the talented Rochelle. This week’s photo was supplied by Marie Gail Stratford, and close to 100 of us write somewhere around 100 words on a weekly basis!
To read the other stories for this week, click on the blue froggie fellow below. Why not give it a go yourself?
My first thought when I saw this week’s photo was “nuclear rods in a reactor”.
Copyright Marie Gail Stratford
Jed trembled as he approached the reactor, the words of the resistance leader echoing in his mind.
“Pull the pink rods. The reactor will reset and drop the security grid. We don’t have a radiation suit for you. I’m sorry.”
He carefully slid the rods from the reactor core. The nuclear glare, brighter than the sun, melted his eyeballs. His insides liquefied as the radiation bombarded his body, the remains of his organs dribbling through every orifice, his brain trickling…
“Jed, where’s that bloody wine, we’re gasping!”
His imaginings interrupted, Jed returned to the dinner party, a bottle of Pinot Grigio Rosé in each hand.
Silver Lining
I can hardly believe that it’s time for Friday Fictioneers again, but it is! This week’s photo has been contributed by Dawn Q. Landau, prompting us to write a 100-ish word story. Friday Fictioneers is hosted as always by the lovely Rochelle.
I have to admit, I have no real idea what this photo is of. It looks to me like an aerial view of fields, but with a huge person standing there!
To read this week’s other contributions, click on the little blue chap below. More stories are added throughout the week!
Copyright Dawn Q. Landau
Javik scrambled out of the way as the aged giant tottered across the field. Marick wasn’t so lucky, disappearing with a grisly crunch in a cloud of red mist beneath the giant’s uncaring feet.
A few more steps and the monstrous figure, evidently hard of sight, lost its footing and fell from the cliff. A huge cloud of dust signalled the creature’s landfall.
Javik counted himself fortunate, more fortunate than the mangled villagers at the base of the cliff. When, hours later, he reached the bottom he smiled as he watched the survivors cut meat from the corpse. No-one would starve this winter.
An Adventure to Die For
It’s time for Friday Fictioneers, so here’s my contribution!
Hosted by Rochelle, this week’s photo prompt has been provided by Janet Webb. Thanks, Janet!
Click on the little blue chap below to see all the other contributions, as they are added during the week.
Copyright Janet Webb
Through the portal lay a room, a room Marlon had discovered existed over 200 years in the past. He checked his clothing – the costume shop had assured him that it looked authentic. He was ready.
His anticipation reaching fever pitch, he stepped through. A keen historian, he was determined that this, his second trip, would be an adventure to die for.
“See, loike oi said, yer honour!” came a woman’s voice as he materialised. “Witch!”
Further cries of “Witch!” were accompanied by flaming arrows, throwing Marlon’s body back through the portal.
“A truly 18th Century death!” thought Marlon as the flesh melted from his bones.
Memories
Here’s my contribution to this week’s Friday Fictioneers, a 100-ish words challenge hosted by Rochelle. This week she contributed the picture as well!
To read the other entries, click on the little blue chap below.
Copyright Rochelle Wisoff-Fields
Carlos looked deep into the fire, hypnotised by the tongues of flame. His mind drifted back to candlelit dinners with Sally, watching the fire together. Sharing everything, one mind, one heart. But…
… she had hated his job. They had argued, every day towards the end. His job was important, he told her. Someone had to do it. In the end their love hadn’t been enough.
A groan brought him back to the present, back to his job. He pulled a coal from the fire and placed it under his victim’s chin, pushing the head down, and smiled. He loved to hear the screams before the vocal chords burned away.
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