December, 2009 Archives
Dec
They Won’t Make A Monkey Out Of Him
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Even in childhood, William George dreamed of traveling in space. Rather than play outside, he would read science magazines. Instead of trips to the zoo, he built telescopes.
During adolescence, there were few friends, and no girls. Though he disliked sports, he ran cross-country in order to meet the physical requirements. He received his doctorate in Mathematics before he had turned twenty-five.
NASA immediately accepted him into the astronaut program.
Thirty years later, he still has never been to the zoo. How could he go to the primate house knowing that chimpanzees have been to outer space, but not him?
Dec
The Great Detective
by thegooddoctor in Uncategorized
It was the case that made him. No motives. No suspects. The victim was by all accounts universally beloved.
When Detective Byrne linked the brand of cigarette ash, the stray button made of gold-lip oyster pearl, and the Stratford Street haberdasher, he was hailed as the living embodiment of Sherlock Holmes.
Within the decade, Byrne was supervising the entire London department. The Haberdasher was eventually executed.
So when the poor widow received an unsigned letter–explaining how her late husband hired an ex-soldier to murder him before Sarcoidosis left him completely debilitated–it was twenty years too late to matter.
Dec
Jack
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
He was walking down the street when she accosted him.
“Why did you run away?”
He stared blankly. She was poorly dressed, maybe even homeless.
“You never called. You just abandoned me. I just got outta jail a week ago.”
He tried to look appropriately contrite. He failed.
“Honey, they took away our baby. You gotta help me get her back.”
Finally, fearing she would not allow him to pass, he said, “I’m sorry, but I am sure we’ve never met.”
“How can you say that to me, Jack?”
“You see, there’s been a mistake. Jack is my twin brother.”
Dec
The Masked Crusader
by thegooddoctor in 100 Words
Nobody has ever seen a hero quite like the Masked Crusader. Resplendent in his uniform of blue and yellow, he combines colossal strength with supersonic flight and a prodigious intellect. He seems to have leapt right off the pages of the monthly comics.
In his secret lair, he monitors police frequencies, intercepts 911 calls, even follows Twitter. He patrols the city streets at night, listening for cries of help. He wants the world to know the world’s first superhero is an agent for good.
But his greatest nemesis proves the suddenness of crime. He invariably arrives just after the fact.