Lean and Mean Challenge- 01/27/20 "Hairy"

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Thread: Lean and Mean Challenge- 01/27/20 "Hairy"

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    Lean and Mean Challenge- 01/27/20 "Hairy"

    *Please read this post entirely before submitting a story to the challenge*

    This week’s contest opens as soon as the clock turns to Monday, US Central Standard Time (12:01 a.m.)

    It closes at the very end of the next Sunday, US Central Standard Time (11:59 p.m.)

    This week’s prompt: "Hairy"


    Each week’s winner will receive a $5 Amazon gift voucher, upon providing their email address to Ma'am by (PM) Private Message.

    Prizes are not transferable and can only be awarded in locations that are served by Amazon.

    *** (New) Also, the editors of
    Flashes of Brilliance may extend an offer of publication to the authors of any stories they especially like.***


    Contests will run weekly for one year, providing there’s enough interest to keep them going.

    Stories can be up to 1,000 words, not including the title. Any that go over that may be disqualified.


    One entry per person.

    In the interests of fairness, this is an anonymous challenge.

    Your entry must be submitted anonymously and therefore should be PMed to me, Ma'am, so that I may post it for you. Please be sure to indicate in your PM on which board you prefer your work posted, PUBLIC or SECURE. I am responsible for linking all entries posted on the secure board to public board.

    Kindly make sure your entry is properly formatted and error free before you PM it to me as you will be unable to edit your work once I have posted it. If your work requires a disclaimer, please inform me in your submission PM.


    Do not post comments in this thread

    If you would like to retain your first publication rights remember to request your entry be posted on the dedicated secure challenge board “Lean and Mean' Prize Flash Fiction.” (However, please also be aware that having your story posted in the secure area of the thread may result in non-members not being able to see it or vote for it).

    Likes and comments are not allowed on the contest threads until the challenge has closed. However, comments, chit-chat and general banter IS allowed in the Challenge Café. Please include the appropriate “warnings” with your story title, if appropriate, for language, sex, violence, etc. Erotica, sexually explicit stories (pornography), or fanfic is not allowed.

    Administrator's word in any and all matters is final.

    As per WF rules:

    Plagiarism: All work entered in the challenge must be your own.

    Obscene Material and Gratuitous Violence: Such material is not allowed. What is considered overtly pornographic or otherwise obscene is decided by the staff and is not open to debate. It will be removed immediately. Any description or depiction of child sexual abuse is not only considered obscene, it is a reportable crime in many jurisdictions. Repeat offenders will be permanently banned.

    Strong or explicit language, Mature themes Disclaimers: Infrequent and context-appropriate strong language and mature themes are allowed and a warning must be included with the entry.

    Post Titles: Post titles must be G rated, which means strong language or descriptions of violence or sexual activities are not permitted.Stories must be submitted by 11:59 p.m. US Central Time on the Sunday night that the week’s contest ends. Entries submitted after this time will disqualified.


    As soon as a weekly contest closes to entries, a poll will be posted and voting begins.

    Voting is open to anyone who cares to help us out by voting for their favorite story.

    Voting for your own story is NOT allowed. Doing so will result in disqualification.

    In the event of a tie, a second vote will be held to determine the winner.


    Please refer to the
    prompt thread for the full list of prompts.
    Last edited by Ma'am; February 3rd, 2020 at 07:15 AM.

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    A Green Monster Story (949 words, language and adult situation warning)

    Twelve-year-old Julie woke in the middle of the night. Bleary eyes searched her dark bedroom and took in the shadowy sight of a small man standing beside her bed. A horrified scream began at the back of her throat but was cut short by a hairy, sweaty hand over her mouth. She tried to bite, but couldn’t get her teeth into the callused palm. The girl passed out from fright and the monster had his way with her.

    She woke sobbing, eyes searching the now empty room. Running to her little brother’s room, she found him cowering in a corner next to his bed. Kissing his sweaty brow, she hurried to her parents room to tell them.

    The frightened tyke found her mother and father tied to the bedposts with a greenish rope. The light was on and they both stared worriedly at her. Julie cut the ropes with a letter opener from a nearby dresser. Her father called the police while she hugged her mother, tears flowing down both their cheeks.

    Julie noticed that her mother had a fresh green three-leafed shamrock inserted in her belly button. Later it was found that all of them had been left fresh shamrocks, all in the same manner.


    Detective Peter Sipowicher left the lieutenant’s office. He had just reported a complete lack of evidence in a strange crime wave that had been hitting the city. It was a series of home invasions, without any other crime being committed, such as robbery, rape, or damage.

    Someone was breaking into homes, only those with occupants. In every case, a small man was reported, with nothing missing from the homes. Each victim had been left with a fresh shamrock inserted in their belly buttons.

    Since St. Patrick’s day was near, the holiday might have some obscure meaning? Something Peter couldn’t divine. He sought out an Irishman for advice.

    “Not to worry, Siirr,” Father McMahon told the detective. “We’re just bein’ hit by the Sidhes, or Faerie’s to ya, Siirr. The little devils do the strangest things, Siirr, bout this tima’ the year. Who knows what the wee creatures could be up to?”

    “What is the three leaf clover for then, Father?”

    “Oh, yes, Siirr, the shamrock? That be a gift from the little people.”

    That was all Peter could get out of him, except for a smile. And a warning.

    “Donna’ touch the little buggers though, Siirr. Bad for yer luck if ya do. Remember that, whatever ya do.”


    “You going crazy in your old age, Sipowicher?” The police lieutenant glared. “Little green men, now?”

    “That’s what the priest told me, Louie. I don’t know what else to do, but look for little green men.” He clarified, “At least dressed in green. The priest didn’t know why they were doing it, but said they would stop soon.”

    “Maybe we can find a little green room, padded, to keep them in? But, seriously, look among the regular lowlifes too.”

    “Yes sir. I’ve put every informant I’ve got out onto the sidewalks. But with nothing stolen, and nobody seems to be bragging about the deeds, I don’t know what else to do but wait. Maybe he'll slip up.”


    Allen Johnson happened to be on his way home from his favorite strip-club, what was left of his mind on other things; such as the intangibility of clothing seeming to cling by static electricity onto a female human body -- despite arduous gyrations. Being a mathematician, that was a valid argument for his thoughts.

    As Allen staggered across an alley, he tripped over something and was pulled into the darkness. As he lay there, he felt something hard pressing against his back and froze in fear. What felt like a small hand insinuated itself under his shirt and brushed his stomach. Both were extracted and he heard a snicker, along with the sound of running feet. He also noticed something had been pressed into his right palm. It was a shamrock.

    Allen checked his pockets. Everything seemed in order, so he simply shrugged and went home.


    “Now the asshole’s mugging people. Not stealing anything, only mugging citizens. I’m putting more people on this, Peter,” the lieutenant told his detective. “We gotta catch this guy. Six home invasions and four muggings so far.”

    “I’ll call that Irish priest up again. Maybe he knows more about this.”

    “Screw the little green men, detective. We have a nut on our hands. Treat it as such.”

    Peter called up the priest anyway. It couldn’t hurt.

    “You have'ta find an Irishman who admits he'd a never kiss the Blarney Stone, Siirr,” the priest told him. “Such a truthful Irishman is hard to find.”

    “And where would I find such an honest Irishman?”

    “I din'na know, Siirr. Ne'er met one me'self.”

    Finally, Saint Patrick’s day came and went, along with the last of the crimes. Detective Sipowicher was glad they had stopped -- but still wished he had been able to catch the miscreant. With other projects building up, he almost forgot about the strange crimes. Until, that is, he had a wild idea. What if the clover was a misdirection?


    “Yes Sir, we would be glad to add you to our newest volume,” Cecil Anderson of the Guinness Book of World Records, told Seamus Kennedy. “You are now the holder of the record for the world’s largest collection of belly-button lint,” he told the small Irishman, dressed in green. “Congratulations, and I believe Detective Sipowicher, here, would like to speak to you.”

    Peter smiled as he took out his handcuffs.

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    This week's challenge is now closed.

    Please help us pick a winner by voting for your favorite story here. (But no voting for your own story, please).


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