100 Word Stories: July 17, 2007 Archives

July 17, 2007

Tuesday

Who's in charge here?

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David: C-Dog's Law

The Pros hung out in their clubhouse in the center of their territory.

“Think they still out there?” wondered Up-Q.

“Shit, man, they always out there, stalking the edge of the neighborhood,” replied Strange, the Pros’ leader.

“Why they gotta be that way? We ain’t done nuthin’ to them.”

Truth, leader of the New Boys, answered, “It’s the law of the streets, dudes. The Elected Ones out there, you in here, balancing each other out. And we do our own thing. Every neighborhood’s the same. You just gotta deal with it. Right, baby?”

“You know it,” replied Truth’s squeeze, Beauty.

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Ted: Behind The Door

"The answer to that question is not what you think it was before I walked in. I am in charge here because I have the big fucking gun." Out of politeness, I gave Sandman a little bit of room to breathe. He tried to make a break for it. Big. Mistake.

And his last.

His blood was as green as the door he was guarding.

"Ok. let's try again... Who is in charge here?"

"You are, man! You are! But Smythe is gonna be pissed you shot me."

"Only if you survive to tell him, Sandy. Now, where's the girl?"

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Stacy: The Leader

The last election was held back in ’08. After that, they just quit having them.

Nobody seemed to mind much. The country was prosperous, the rest of the world was basically quiet. Just the usual god-wars.

Then the broadcasts quit coming. When the banks closed, some folks worried. Usually just the ones with money, though. The rest of us just started trading for stuff we needed. If nobody had it, then we didn’t need it.

Nobody ever went to see what happened. Didn’t care much. Life was simple and good, and it was enough.

At least until he showed up.