The 100 Word Stories Podcast

You never know which home run is the last home run you hit.
Or give up as a pitcher.
The last touchdown you catch. Or throw. Or run.
Or get called back because of your holding penalty.
Maybe it’s your call from the booth. Television. Radio.
The last dunk. The last free through.
The last foul, when you foul out of the game.
All your days on the field, the court are long gone.
Trade in your cleats for a suit.
The last time you get recognized on the street.
“Hey, didn’t you used to be…”
And sign an autograph.

Teddy Baskets leads the league in scoring.
Triple Double Teddy.
But he also leads the league in shots. And shots missed.
And fouls and turnovers and minutes.
If you average things out, you’ll see why Teddy’s team is in last.
Nobody else gets any shots because Teddy’s a ball hog.
He fights his own team for every rebound.
And hates coming out of the game, even if he’s on a cold streak or exhausted.
Laying in the jacuzzi after the game, bitching to his agent on his cell phone.
The team’s trainer casually knocks a plugged-in lamp into the tub.

It was fourth grade recess league softball, and I managed to avoid my name sticking to any roster.
The teachers didn’t know what to do, so they asked if I’d be an umpire.
“No,” I said.
But they made me do it anyway.
“Strike!” I shouted after every pitch, even ones that hit the plate.
The principal, who was pitching, had me move next to him.
“Strike!” I continued to shout.
A gang of other kids joined the chorus.
“Strike! Strike! Strike!” they shouted mockingly.
“Oh, good,” I said. “You can take over then.”
And I walked home from school.

Johnny started a TikTok account and posted all kinds of things, but he wasn’t getting any views.
So, he started posting videos of fires.
Burning cars. Burning buildings. Burning parks.
This got him a lot of views.
But the other people posting videos of those fires also got lots of views.
And some of them got more views than Johnny.
So, he burned down their houses.
Eventually, Johnny got caught.
As he sat in his cell, he smelled smoke. A fire alarm went off.
Johnny yelled for a guard… to bring him his phone so he could post a video.

So, you want to stop school shootings?
Metal detectors haven’t worked.
Guards haven’t worked.
Safe zones haven’t worked.
Lots of people are talking about taking away guns again.
As if you could take away the guns.
And even if you stop selling the big guns, there’s still the guns out there.
Background checks? Doesn’t work for stolen COVID funds, won’t work for guns.
Stop smuggling? Every border has a price.
So, I came up with another plan.
Homeschooled kids don’t bully their classmates.
Homeschooled kids don’t shoot their classmates.
Take away schools.
And you take away the classmates to kill.

It’s almost jasmine season again.
The jasmine vines took a beating last year because of the freeze.
I thought about chopping them down, but let’s see how they do this year.
If there’s no bloom at all on the ground, yeah, I’ll cut them off and plant anew.
Thing is, if we head out in a year or two, I won’t see any of it.
They’ll grow for the next tenant.
But life is about planting for the next generation to enjoy, right?
As long as they don’t chop them down and plant a bunch of daisies or other crap.

I think I mixed the ending a bit oddly… oh well. You can see the topic here:

The next topic is Train

RICHARD

Sold!

I bought it on Amazon: No, it wasn’t cheap, but maybe I was swayed by the product description.

‘Absolute peace of mind, and total security’, it said, and then to ram the point firmly home, it went on to detail exactly why I had no need whatsoever ever to worry…

Waterproof, leak proof and rot resistant. Non-fade, colourfast and hard-wearing. Biologically and dermatologically tested, additive free, hypo-allergenic and vegan friendly.

Safe, secure, tried and tested, and a lifetime no-quibble guarantee.

I had to have it.

If only I knew what the hell it’s supposed to do!

LIZZIE

The security unit monitored the whole house. Total Security, stated the ad. But the resident cat hated it. When the security unit started growling, the owners thought they were doomed. Killed by a security unit. The horror. Well, the unit was just bored. Eventually, the feline and the unit struck up a friendship when the unit started purring. The cat thought that was rather amusing. But then the security unit was fired for being too noisy. So, the cat made a big fuss. Long story short, the unit stayed. Cats rule. If they want total security, they get total security.

LISA

Where

We’re in a room with a huge fire. There’s cakes and tea. Our eyes are out on stalks but at the same time we all wince from the brightness. You can see for miles and yet you can see nothing. We’re remote. But based on the opulence of the room we’re in- this is not some rural backwater.

Our captor explains.

“It’s a gated property. You, the chosen ones, will have total security here- you can walk for miles and not meet a soul. We keep the gate locked. To stop outsiders getting in, not to stop you getting out.”

SERENDIPIDY

Good choice!

As panic rooms go, you really couldn’t do much better. Concrete walls, solid steel door with multiple timer-secured deadlocks and three-sixty external surveillance systems. Total security.

I see you’ve stocked up on supplies for at least a week too. That shows great foresight and planning. Well done.

Because, let’s face it, with a character like me stalking the neighbourhood, you really don’t want to be taking chances.

But, I do feel there’s something you may have missed.

A secure panic room is great, once you’re inside.

Not so good, if I got in there before you!

TOM

Not So Good

My wife works in a clinic. In the clinic are departments who would sell their first born for an extra 4 square feet. Now that square footage in her office has been usurped for reasons of security. In a safe of considerable weight are keep the holy grail of medicine. My wife doesn’t buy into admins reasoning for a safe in her office. They muse for the need for ToTaL Security: a safe behind a lock door. Gail pointed out there is an 18 inch window in her office. To maintain Total total security they moved it to the john.

854

Water Torture Remote

The codename for the project was: Water Torture Remote. DARPA funded it in the late 60s. The core of the project was to train solders in lucid dreaming. Once in a heighten state of consciousness images of prime targets would be scanned on the retinas. Targets were merged in dreamtime. At this point the suggestion that water was filling the targets lungs would be planted in the target’s consciousness. It almost worked; problem was the guys running the scanners got linked-in. Water Torture Remote took them out. Needless to say, the project was summarily defunded. Nothing in DARPA ever truly dies.

NORVAL JOE

“Come on, son. Let’s go home,” Billbert’s father said.
Billbert rattled the handcuffs. “I can’t dad.”
Billbert’s mother looked like she was going to grab Vattash by the throat. “Why would you cuff a child during a friendly chat?” she asked sarcastically.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry ma’am. It’s part of our total security protocol. Anyone under interrogation, or rather, questioning, must remain secured.”
“Fine,” Mr. Dinklehouser said. “We’ll have our attorney stop by and interrogate, or rather, question you.”
Releasing Billbert and blushing slightly, Officer Vattash said, “Don’t bother. Your son is no longer considered a person of interest.”

PLANET Z

A white van parked out on the street, TOTAL SECURITY in bold black letters on the side.
It hasn’t moved for 4 days.
I tried to look in the windows, but they’re blacked out.
I look up the license plates, and they’re registered to a company called Total Security.
Just a PO Box and a local phone number.
I call it, and it rings… but nobody answers, no voicemail.
I look up from my phone, and the van is gone.
Strange. I didn’t hear it start up or drive off.
I shrug and walk home, feeling somewhat insecure about reality.

CHATGPT

In a world where privacy was a luxury, Total Security emerged, a fortress of algorithms guarding every digital footprint. Citizens surrendered autonomy for serenity. Yet, behind the impenetrable walls, a whisper persisted—a clandestine resistance weaving through the binary maze. One day, the system faltered, a hairline fracture in its armor. Through that breach, a revelation surged—a reminder that true security isn’t found in surveillance but in the freedom to navigate without fear. And so, in the quiet hum of defiance, the seeds of liberation were sown, promising a new dawn where trust was earned, not coerced by the illusion of safety.

He stood there, a dark and shabby man, rotten teeth and wild hair.
Clothed in dirty rags, surrounded by dozens of shabby commoners.
Roman soldiers watched them all.
“That’s Jesus?” I said. “For real?”
“Kinda puts things in perspective, eh?” said Dr. Marks, holding his camera steady.
We were posing as merchants, and tracked the group for a few days.
And when it was over, we went back to our boat, threw the time circuits, and appeared back in the Institute.
We both took a big breath of fresh air.
“Man, I need a shower,” Dr. Marks said, and laughed.

Baby woke up cold, bound up and tied to a tree.
She looked around as best she could.
There were trees all around her, and all she heard were crickets.
She tried to scream, but there was a gag over her mouth.
The last thing she remembered was leaving Archie’s place and going home.
And her husband… he came back a day early.
“What do you think it will be?” a voice whispered in her ear. “Starve, dehydrate, or freeze?”
It wasn’t any of those.
It was a shovel to her skull.
And he used it to bury her deep.