NOVEMBER 2020 75-word Writing Challenge -- VICTORY TO PARSON!

[Matchu]

Bood.

We slouched inside his van.

Steve grimaced in this fug, smoking.

Eight footers thumped twin headlands.

Last puff: doobie,

zip, slam,

un-strap gun from roof rack,

wax stick.

Raise my palm.

‘Sticky,’ I said, gravelside, gathered; no pall-bearers in our attendancing.

‘Sticky,’ he repeated.

We giggled in wetsuits.

We clambered rocks, leaped into rip current seeking a crystal clarity. Out back, upon the blanket bowlering under our boards.

 

[sule]

deliberated

Truck rumbles stumbling down roads

Where cracked pavement breathes and breeds overnight addicts
Where black boa firehoses lunge at green grass prettyboy protestors
And one-hour gig panhandlers with eyes like static sit dazed on street corners
The City steaming from their ears while forgetting their own names
While pinprick syringes wink and gleam in half-light

Land like a hotel bedsheet wrinkled stained infested

Shuddering under headlights and just passing through

 

[Luiglin]

Wet Bob

Coddiwompling U.K. blared out from the speakers, the Promenade Whippersnappers offering the perfect score to his jolly Autumnal jaunt.

Algernon Winsonby-Fitzmaurice tossed down the Lagavulin 16, setting his throat afire to join his lungs from Saligo ‘Psycho’ Bay’s freezing air.

Now, what did the Scottish codger call them as they pilfered his case of Islay’s finest single malt? Ah, yes.

“Yo, duddies.”

So much better than oiks.

“Get my board, I’ve a wave to catch.”

 

[MikeAnderson]

DRUNK DRIVING WITH TRICKY DICK!

"Get a haircut, you marijuana addled Marxists!"

Henry Kissinger held the steering wheel of the Presidential limo, as President Nixon chugged Budweiser and shot hippies with a paintball gun on the D.C. beltway. The limo peeled off as counter-culturalists were screaming at them.

“You see that, Hank? That’s how you...oh crap!”

“What, sir?”

“We forgot to pick up the boys from the Watergate. Oh well; I’m sure nothing will happen.”

 

[Starbeast]

Cheech & Chong's
Intergalactic Parcel Service​

"Meps! Mr. Cheech, your tardiness has jeopardized my position on Remulak. You guaranteed overnight delivery."

"We had the star map upside down."

"Unacceptable! If it were permissible, I'd incinerate your planet!"

"Ah, yeah. 977 torgs, please."

#

"Man, you're lame."

"Oh yeah? You deal with the next one."

#

"You've made me very angry", huffed the Martian.

"Ok. Like, if you're gonna blow up the Earth, could you do it on a Monday?"

"Certainly."

"Thanks man."

 

[paranoid marvin]

Wipeout

Surfer dudes, bodacious babes
Cruisin' Sixty-Six
Destination gnarly waves
Stoked to pull some tricks

Golden coastline, clear-blue sky
Yo just smell the breeze
'Get us to the beach!' they cry
'Put your foot down please!'

Eating up the tarmac faster
Really doin' speed
T-bird's headin' for disaster
Yet they pay no heed

Thrills an' chills an' death-defyin'
Driver's lost control
'No more surf!' I hear them cryin'
Reaper takes his toll

 

[Vince W]

About the Journey

“You ain’t nuthin’ butta poser!”

Marc looked the shaggy youth square in the eye.

“It’s true, I’ve never ridden a wave, never hanged-ten and never wiped out. But you don’t surf out there, you surf in there." Marc touched the youth’s temple.

“Watch it!”

“That’s what you don’t get. Surfing, being at one with the sea, ain’t about the ride its about the journey. You’ll see. Now help me get this chair off the beach.”

 

[Wayne Mack]

The Elevator​

Peace Harmony stood in an open field as the elevator doors opened. Inside, the elevator operator shimmered in light.

“Going up? Going down?” asked the operator.

“I have done uncool things. I spat on a policeman and called him ‘pig.’ I am truly sorry.”

“Going up? Going down?”

“Down, where there is suffering. Perhaps I could provide comfort.”

At this, the operator smiled. Peace entered and the elevator slowly rose.

 

[AnyaKimlin]

Hog Roast

"Is The Hog on our tail?" Rubber Duck asked.
Pig Pen checked in the wing mirror of the Love Bus. "Yep."
"Two more miles to Taco Town." he smiled.
"Wake up friends." he said. "I smell The Hog hide burning."
In the back of the bus the rest of the cult stirred.
"You are sure he's sacrifice material?" checked Rubber Duck.
Pig Pen licked her lips. "Yep. Tested him myself. Total flop."

 

[Hugh]

Blue Meanie Breakfast​

Nobody was looking when Jonboy hit the void. For a moment there was no wave, no sea, no sky, no Jonboy. In that millisecond he knew there was nowhere to go, nothing to do, just the eternal shining present.

So he caught the next wave.

Back at the Beach Cafe, Big Mike asked him about the effects of the omelette.

Jonboy waved his arms, “Those mushrooms take you everywhere and nowhere, man, everywhere and nowhere.”

 

[mosaix]

To Bodaciously Go…

“What’s occurin’ Kirky-baby?”

“Yo, Uhura! Was just chillin’ when this dude ‘ports aboard all aggressive like.”

“I am not a dude! Call me Gowron!”

“Cool it, man.”

“Cool it!? You’re in our quadrant! Leave or face the consequences!”

“You the fuzz?” Laughs. “We just travelin’ round. Explorin’ like. Relax. Share a joint.”

“No.”

“Go on.”

“What is it?”

“A Bones special. Try it.”

“Well…”

“Well?”

Exhales. “Not bad.”

“What say you now?”

“Peace, man.”

 

[Calliopenjo]

Vacation
I’m going to take the Astral Plane to Ashram, Dude. The biomass there would be so groovy. I dig how that would feel. I can’t wait. I got my dope and my babe. Don’t need nothing else. Maybe I should tell my parents good-bye. I don’t when I’ll be back. If ever. It’ll be so cool.

 

[TheEndIsNigh]

Tripping

"Hey Jack, where we heading?"

The bus, garishly painted yellow, is barely legal and swerves as he turns to answer.

“We’re on the road man, ain’t nothing for us back there in city-ville.”

I look at him, unkept black beard, French beret nearly failing off his head. “Well cool it, or we’ll never get where we’re going.”

“Don’t matter,” he said, “either here or California we’re joining Buddy and we’re going underground.”

 

[johnnyjet]

Ticket to Fly

Jefferson parked his white rabbit, slouched to the waiting airplane.

His head swam. Was he flying yet? How high was he? Clouds dripped like lather. Far out, man! Where was he headed? He couldn't remember. An embryonic journey back to the womb?

He needed sleep. Volunteers brought him a surrealistic pillow. Flying higher, he dreamed of his plastic fantastic lover.

The crash lit up the sky like the crown of creation.

 

[Perpetual Man]

Flight of Fancy

I hate spaceflight.

Some might call it a phobia, but it scares the beejezus out of me.

“Yo man, come for the uppy-downy?”

I looked at the waster, puffing some narcotic relaxant.

“Less of the downy,” I muttered.

He snorted. “There ain’t nuthin’ to it man, close your eyes an’ float away. It’s what I always do.”

I shook my head, “I’d much rather trust the pilot.”

“Dude! I am the pilot.”

 

[M. Robert Gibson]

Dude, Where's My Starship?

Ken burst in, waving a flyer. "Guys, there's another festival!"

Allen grabbed the flyer. "Wow! Look at these acts. The Beatlegeuses, The Andromedoors, Planck Floyd, The Allmoon Brothers!"

"Groovy!" said Jack "We gotta go."

"Yeah, but how're we getting across the universe?" asked Tim. "It's 2000 light years from home and the interstellar overdrive on our magic bus is fried. You dig?"

"Easy!" laughed Ken. "Grab your boards! Let's ride the gravitational waves to... Astrostock!"

 

[scarpelius]

The ultimate wave

dQ was once a legend among surfers across the universe. Now a wreck in a wheelchair selling his possessions to buy ganja.

All my savings for his surfboard, Aloha.

***

The moment I placed my foot on the board, it took control over my senses. Never had the space been so beautiful! I could see the gravitational waves, rippling in every fold of the space.

Betelgeuse dimmed then exploded.

The biggest wave I've ever seen followed.

 

[Ursa major]

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There’s a Time and Place for Everything​

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Even on this world, where genetics have gone mad, some can’t help sniggering. With wide feet as long as I’m tall, I’m a hodad, mostly.​

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But in the Luminescent Ray Season, when the fish rise from the depths, I’m amped. Then I can help, catching the fish between my feet. People are stoked when I bring the rays ashore.​

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But there’s always the odd shubie about, shouting: “Sick, Bro! Surf-feet of Lamp Rays!”​

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[Ursa major]

This challenge has now closed to new entries.

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POLL -- November 2020 75-Word Challenge -- READ FIRST POST!​

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[The Judge]

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