Sounds simple, doesn't it?

Topics are selected by the winner of the previous weekly challenge. This week reveals the triumphant Anima Zabaleta...

How about.... Then you put in in the blender...?

You have until midnight on Friday October 17th to get the following in my hot little hands:

• The text of your story so I can post it on the site. Just post the text of the story in the body of your email message. Do not put it in Word, Word Perfect, Sun Office, or any other document format. Just copy-paste the text into the body of the message. This will save me the hassle of firing off another program to read it and it will reduce the chances that gmail will flag your message as Spam.

• If you have a blog, podcast, or other site that people can go to so they can learn more about your handiwork, the URL would be appreciated.

• What you would like the topic of Weekly Challenge #131 to be. Failure to send in a topic with your selection will mean that if you win, whoever is in second place will be considered for the topic, and so on.

• A recording of your story in .mp3 format. Please use your name as the filename if you can, okay? Makes it easier to produce the show quickly.

If you do not feel like recording a story for the podcast, well, go ahead and send the story in anyway. I'll include it in the show notes, but it won't be eligible for choosing the topic or winning the magnets.

Send the stories to isfullofcrap (at) gmail.com and then add a comment here saying you've sent it in.

Once all the stories are in, I'll assemble them into a single podcast collection for your enjoyment.

Good luck, and feel free to e-mail me with any questions you have.

Hear y'all in a week, and as always, keep it brief.

The topic this week was selected by Cenedra, and we went with Light.

The excellent theme music is by Guy David

VOTING

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

Anima

Ai! Mama, I am afraid!

What is it, hijo?

I saw the chupacabra! That is his shadow on the wall... he is outside!

You saw what? Your grandmother has been telling you
stories...She would have to talk to Abuela about frightening the boy.

I only see your cousin Lupito, coming home late... Go to sleep now, hijo mio.

Can I have a light, mama? The chupacabra might come back....

Just for a while...

Luz knew that soon, she would have to tell her son about the
family history, that there were real monsters, much much more frightening than some
village myth.

Nika

She sat on the hillside, shrouded by the shadows from a cluster of bushes. Gazing out over the city that had been her home for the past two years, the Hollywood sign loomed behind her. The lights of the city sparkled in the darkness, reflecting upward to paint the horizon a rusty shade of red. It had taken her months to resolve her decision on what to do next, but she had decided. The breeze stirred, awaking her from her reverie as it whispered across her fur. Amber eyes turned upward to find the moon. It was time to leave.

Philip

Grimey black and grey tiles invited him down grocery store ailes of increasing gloom and darkened potential. Shadowed boxes and cans in layered dust offered hidden rewards. Overhead the yellowed and brown stained palstic filtered the weak florescence, illuminating nothing. He turned to look back and saw, far off, down a tunnel, or in a dream, a memory: the door. When had he come in through the door? Beyond the door was the city with its cars, and people, and places; and life. Here was dark, an aisle, dust, and the door. In the door was a window and light.

Tom

Fred woke up in hell. The light was dim but not dark. He looked around and saw this pleasant green glow he remembered from his childhood. His grandma's round green nightlight.

"That the devil's nightlight" said Larry the demon.

"I thought hell was supposed to be full of torments. Why a night light?"

"Oh Heavens, there aren't any torments here. The light is there so you don't bump
your knee."

"What about punishment?"

"Absence of God."

"Hell that's you so bad."

Larry tucked Fred into bed and kissed him good night. Fred remembered just how much
he missed his grandma.

Steven

Harsh morning sunlight woke me in the field. I was beside the gnawed-on corpse of Vinnie. Bits of shredded clothes and shredded Vinnie slid off me when I stood up. Damn. Three weeks of undercover work ruined because I was hungry and couldn't remember wolfsbane.

I gave Vinnie's corpse a once-over, not expecting anything left.
Chewed tendon, maybe, but not a... pre-paid cell phone. With an
incoming call on it.

My smile scared the desk cop when he traced the call, when he gave me
a name. Tonight, I will solve the case. Tonight, I will hunt by
moonlight.

Mike

He labored under the heavy burden, almost more than even he could lift, and began the trek home. The sun's rays beat mercilessly from the cloudless sky, reflecting up at him from the white surface. The heat was intense, but he couldn't stop. He had a task to complete - others depended on him.

Suddenly, just as pounding vibrations warned of approaching danger, a shadow passed over him and then a light brighter than the sun itself appeared, immobilising, searing him, until -

In the magnifying glass's focused beam, the ant popped. The boy laughed, then went in search of more prey.

Almo

There is a time when a man has to choose. He sits at the bar, fingers playing over the mahogany, thinking done. He stares into space for a moment, reviewing once again the mental calculations, the logical steps, the intuition that has brought him to this point.

He breathes and holds. He exhales long and hard.

His mind and conscience are clear.
The time for thought has been shoved aside by the time for action.

He glances up at the woman's expectant face on the other side of the
bar, her body partially hidden by beer taps.
"Light," he says.

Eva Moon

She noticed it as soon as she got up: she was lighter. Not thinner, but somehow less affected by gravity. Her feet hardly touched the carpet as she drifted downstairs. TV Newscasters were grim: global warming, pollution, the end of the world.

She grew lighter as the day went on. By evening she had to hook her
toes under the edge of the cabinet to stay low enough to cook dinner.

Later, the moon shone bright in the window. She opened it and floated
up into the icy night. Around her countless other shapes were rising.
Spores seeking fertile soil.

Justin

Now dead, I'm not surprised by the tunnel or the light at one end. I am surprised that the light is a zippo. While I didn't particularly believe in an afterlife until now, I'd seen enough movies to not be too surprised. I am a bit concerned, though. I never listened to anyone when they tried to tell me about God, Jesus loves me, all that stuff. The fact I was shot by cops after murdering has me on edge, too. I'm grabbing the zippo, nothing bad is happening. I guess I'll travel the tunnel.

"Hey buddy, got a light?"

Fricker

I had a dream last night ... a dream of my little girl swinging at the local playground, laughing, smiling... enjoying life

A dream of her going off to school in cute little pigtails... carrying her
My Little Pony lunch box... enjoying life

A dream of teaching her how to drive and how not to drive like her father.
Being scared out of my wits when I gave her the keys for the first time, but
not showing it.

I awoke from my dream when she turned on the living room light. "Daddy,
it's time to walk me down the isle."

She is my light.

Planet X

The forces of light began gathering their troops for the battle against dark ones.

Billy Bob was one of the first to enlist into the legions of light, hoping to be amongst those who would make the assault.

The day Billy Bob was issued his Star Trooper uniform; he was so proud, parading around, showing off the power of it to his family and friends.

He trained day and night to be a Star Trooper of the mighty fleet of starships.

Billy Bob was more than puzzled when he was given his job classification, just what was a "Head" Orderly?

Jeffrey

"MIS, Jeff." "Hi Jeff, this is vendor Bill" "Hi Bill." "Jeff, what's the Joke?" "Huh?" "I got your package." "Help me out. I didn't send a package." "It has a Polaroid of a computer screen." "You're kidding me, right?" "Nope!" "I told you know who to get a screen shot of the error." "The one with the typewriter? "The same." "Maybe If the light from the flash didn't obscure the screen."

Guy David

Back in their hotel room, Bob was looking at his now drunken Harriet with distaste. She was completely oblivious. Bob sighed. He remembered Mike the hacker's ass, rising and falling rhythmically above his Harriet, both of them so deep in ecstasy that they didn't noticed the light in the hallway or the fact that he was standing there, staring at them before he went back out into the street. He looked at that Burroughs book Harriet brought with her. He stared at the apple he just took a bite off. “Let's play a little game of William Tell” he said.

Wilma

Planet Z

Brother Theodore closes the door to the church and goes from candle to candle, gently snuffing each with a brass implement caked in ancient wax and soot.

"We will not clean it until Christ's return," said his predecessor, just as he has taught his own eventual replacement.

"When do I light them?" asked Theodore.

"You don’t," said the old priest hastily. “They light themselves. And don’t get curious about it. Just… believe.”

Theodore stayed up to watch. Every rector of the church did it. And every rector regretted it afterward, the sight of a smiling demon licking each wick aflame

"What's so funny?" asked a farmer.

"Your president is a cannibal!" said Douglas, and he laughed himself silly.

"That's a lie!" said the farmer, but Douglas was gone, telling some other person the same lie.

Ten thousand times that day, Douglas lied.

The next day, when people accused him of lying, Douglas denied it and held a bloody stump out of his sleeve. "Lincoln tried to eat me!"

Well, Lincoln did try to eat Douglas, but even the slimy Douglas had his pride and wouldn't show what he'd bitten off.

I couldn't decide what story to post on the occasion of my turning 39.

So, might as well go with a "Lincoln bit off Douglas' cock" story.

That'll make Mom and Dad proud, eh.

Surprise!

Lincoln assembled his generals and announced: "I have given you carte blanche, you must use your own judgment and do the best you can."

He also told that to the landscapers.

The next day, Lincoln awoke to a magnificent garden of flowers, trees, paths, and fountains on the White House grounds.

"This is truly splendid," said Abe. "But where did the field hospital go that was here?"

"We've gotten those bums out of their cots and down to the quarry, mining granite for your pyramid," said a landscaper.

Lincoln laughed. He'd look splendid, wrapped in linen and decorated in gold.

You would think someone would realize the tape was there as a warning. But most folks are soft-hearted and assume all babies are safe.

This one wasn't. Whoever left her there, hoped she'd die.

She didn't.

The rescuers naming the baby Caution, well, that takes a special kind of stupid.

Stupid makes for easy mind control.

Caution giggles and points to the roof.

“Jump!” she squeals.

We all giggle along and climb out the window. This will be fun!

So the moment I put on a new pair… Amnesia!

I hadn't yet walked a mile in them.

Who am I?
Where am I?
Hey, these are some nice shoes.

I walked around the mall, staring at my driver's license.

The people at the Information Desk offered to call an ambulance, but I felt fine.

I jingled the car keys in my hand... which was my car?

I wandered the parking lot, confused.

From now on, I'm using a treadmill and writing myself a note.

They are the same seven cakes since he opened the store. Over all those years, they never changed.

Every day, these cakes taunt me. They beg me to eat them.

The donuts or éclairs or brownies or fudge, which Mario also has in vast supply, they don't call out to me.

I ate them, sure, but yearned for the cakes.

You don't use the same ingredients for display cakes as you do for ones you eat.

I didn't know this back then.

We threw that rock through his window for nothing.

I'm proud to be a Yazghar, sure, but I would rather not end up dissected at Area 51.

The Field Operations Manual says to blend in as best I can. Carnival jobs when possible, or work from home doing technical support.

Do I look like a Steve? Do Steves have bright orange war-crests and talons?

Usually we outsource observation duties to the Ofokos. They look more human than us, despite the lack of earlobes.

Easily concealed with wigs or floppy hats.

The fangs aren't. We just tell them not to smile, or go Goth.

Sounds simple, doesn't it?

Topics are selected by the winner of the previous weekly challenge. This week reveals the triumphant Cenedra and her Two Cents...

How about.... Light?

You have until midnight on Friday October 10th to get the following in my hot little hands:

• The text of your story so I can post it on the site. Just post the text of the story in the body of your email message. Do not put it in Word, Word Perfect, Sun Office, or any other document format. Just copy-paste the text into the body of the message. This will save me the hassle of firing off another program to read it and it will reduce the chances that gmail will flag your message as Spam.

• If you have a blog, podcast, or other site that people can go to so they can learn more about your handiwork, the URL would be appreciated.

• What you would like the topic of Weekly Challenge #130 to be. Failure to send in a topic with your selection will mean that if you win, whoever is in second place will be considered for the topic, and so on.

• A recording of your story in .mp3 format. Please use your name as the filename if you can, okay? Makes it easier to produce the show quickly.

If you do not feel like recording a story for the podcast, well, go ahead and send the story in anyway. I'll include it in the show notes, but it won't be eligible for choosing the topic or winning the magnets.

Send the stories to isfullofcrap (at) gmail.com and then add a comment here saying you've sent it in.

Once all the stories are in, I'll assemble them into a single podcast collection for your enjoyment.

Good luck, and feel free to e-mail me with any questions you have.

Hear y'all in a week, and as always, keep it brief.

The topic this week was selected by Brad Z, and we went with Airplane.

The excellent theme music is by Guy David

VOTING

Go ahead and listen to them and then vote for your favorites (multiple selections are allowed):

GUY DAVID

Meeting Harriet and Bob left Chaketo Chirapa a little shaken. Harriet was friendly enough, though a little too friendly, but Bob, that was another matter altogether. There was a look in his eyes Chaketo Chirapa didn't like at all. He though about his Chirapa, left alone without a leader while he was out meeting podcasters, actors and people in strange alien suits that looked nothing like the real aliens he had seen in pictures back home. Home. He could almost see the underground tunnels. A sudden wave of yearning washed over him. He decided to catch the next airplane home.

JEFF HITE

"Look, up in the sky." "Hey, is that the Flashback?" "Come on, you know the Flashback doesn't fly. It must Superguy!" "Are you crazy? Superguy's costume doesn't look anything like that. Maybe it is one of the of league of bad guys." "Do they even have anyone that can fly like that? I thought they all had machines to help them fly." "True, true. Then who could it be?" "What are you guys doing?" "Oh Hi, we are trying to figure out what super hero that is up there." "Really? Where?" "Right up there." "That thing?" "Yup that one." "Dudes that's and airplane."

Justin

The Kamikaze pilot drank and began trying to impress the girl next to him with a war story.

My Zero lifted from the runway and I flew high into the air. It was my sole duty and honor to die that day. I flew in with the sun at my back so the enemy could not easily see me. But there were already enemy airplanes flying, and from the side, they spotted me! I dodged their fire, shooting one plane down, then flew my Zero into the side of a destroyer, leaving a deadly wound.

When did this happen?

Tomorrow.

Tom

They gather about the bamboo frame representation of the sky god. They had been gathering since 1937. When the oxford anthropologist inquire to the deity’s name a older Micronesian told her they called the god Amelia. Some what rattled by the revelation she asked if the old woman had actually talked to the aviator. "Sure, want to meet her?" After climbing to the top of Myamypoa the anthropologist spied the Lockheed Electra 10E. There in the cockpit was Earhart speaking calmly into a radio set who’s battery had long been dead. Her battery however was good for another 1000 years.

Steven the Nuclear Man

College-ruled paper had never looked so violent before.

"Rat-a-tat-tat!" Sam maneuvered the folded remains of the notepad
into familiar twisting dogfights. "K-pow!" One, then two paper
planes went down in imaginary flames.

My old injuries ached, and I shifted against the smooth leather of my
chair. Who had told my grandson? Who had let him watch the video?

"Then," the boy narrated, "the bastards snuck up from behind and ...
boom!" The last plane - my plane - spiraled to the green carpet.
"That's how it happened, right grandpa?"

I rose, balanced on my prosthetic legs, and left the house in silence.

Brad Z

Yellow wands taxi the aircraft into place. A grateful Tomcat kneels in gratitude and prepares for flight once again. Maintenance personal scurry around the aircraft in a well choreographed dance that completes the final check. Raw power illuminates the night as fire erupts from the exhaust. Vibration rattles to your bones as full power is reached. Personal signal everything is go. Salutes are given. The catapult speeds down the deck with the aircraft in tow and the Tomcat becomes airborne once again. Jet blast deflectors are lowered. The dancers await their next partner as she taxis up to the catapult.

Wilma

What's a lovely like you doing at Sid's?

I love the romantic atmosphere scented with sweat and grease, a real ladies'
place. What's your story cowboy?

Name's Airplane. I ride with the Angels.

Why Airplane?

I have powerful legs. I propel myself off my bike and fly with my arms out
to the side, like an airplane.

Do you do that for shits and giggles?

Nah. For the biker bros. I fly over them I tap them on their third eye
giving them a vision they need to see.

And you roll with the Hell's Angels?

No, not those angels.

Laieanna

"Welcome to Angel Planes where we take you beyond the sky."

"Angel. You mean I'm…"

"How else would you come to the halfway point?"

"But mankind has planes."

"Thank the muses. Name?"

"I remember driving but…what was that?"

"Realization. Let's move on. Name?"

"Edward Nelson."

"Oh dear. I'm afraid you're not booked for a flight, sir."

"Why not? Are you saying I'm going down there?"

"Unfortunately. Just take that hall to your left and when you reach.."

"I'm flying to damnation?"

"Not at all. When you reach the end of the hall, take the helevator. It
goes straight to ground floor."

Anima

Uncle Louie is magical when he makes airplanes. A crease here, a fold there, and then he blows a little fairy dust under the wings to make them fly right.

He's so good, he even gives his planes windows.
"Why windows?" I asked
"So people can look out, silly."

A few puffs, and I have a fleet!

Evening settles in, I want something more.
"Do planes fly when they're on fire?"
"Hmmm...Let's walk down to the lake and find out…."

I light wings and launch the planes over the water.
"Ooooo! Look! you can see the people panicking inside!"

Mike

(text missing)

Planet Z

Back in WW2, I worked on decoys.

Inflatable tanks. Rubber soldiers. Balsawood airplanes.

One night, while manning the lights at a fake airfield, a colonel arrives on a motorcycle and yells for a plane.

The Red Baron is on the loose! He shouts.

Drunk as a skunk.

Before I can stop him, he's hopped in a decoy fighter and yelling for the
crew to arm him and taxi him to the runway.

My laughter stopped when the rubber men began to stir.

I didn't come out of the tower until after he landed, hoisted shoulders-high to the empty Officers Club.