The Bigger

It was just before the bout between Lefty Louie and Bonecrusher Rocco. Both fighters were in their corners. Louie's manager, Al, offered his last words of advice...

“Remember, Louie, the bigger they are...”

Bonecrusher was big all right. Huge head, bull neck, massive right hand, and a 15-0 record, all by knockouts.

“Got it, Al. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

Al added a few more lines of disbelief to his face.

“What'd you mean, Louie?”

“Fall, Al. The bigger they are, the harder...”

“No, Louie, hit. Remember, it's hit. The bigger they are, the harder they hit...”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Demolition

He passed the tax building, now being slowly demolished.

“Everything’s done online these days,” he thought bitterly.

He’d been a manager there, running his section with the efficiency of a concentration camp commandant.

“Got any spare change?” asked one of a group of teenagers watching the demolition.

Giving them an evil stare, he walked on.

“Goddam!” The beer can struck him on the back of the head.

“Fuck off and die, you old fart!” he heard as they ran off laughing.

He looked at the shell of the building for a while.

Soon – like him – it would be gone forever.

From Guest Contributor Ian Fletcher

Final Instructions

The fight between Lefty Louie and Bonecrusher Rocco was only minutes away. Bonecrusher was an awesome specimen – a huge head, bull neck, and massive chest and biceps.

In Louie's corner, Al, his manager, had a few last words.

“The referee’s going to give you both instructions in the middle of the ring.”

Why a square surface was called a ring Louie didn't understand.

“He's going to tell you to go to a neutral corner when someone's down. Break when he tells you to. Then he'll say let the better man win.”

“What?”

“I know, Louie. Just forget that last part.”

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

Interview

When I stepped out of the car, I took a deep breath and cleared my mind.

I hadn’t been interviewed in years and now older, I didn’t know what my chances were of getting hired. My friend recommended me to the department head, and I hoped that would get my foot in the door.

I had my briefcase in hand with an excellent portfolio and references. What more would they want?

I opened the door and entered the office only to be told by the receptionist that the manager had an emergency and I’d have to come back another day.

From Guest Contributor Lisa M. Scuderi-Burkimsher

Losers

It was the last inning in an adult softball playoff game. We were behind by two runs. I had gotten a walk, which filled the bases. The next batter could tie or win the game. The manager replaced two of us with pinch runners, which caused our second and third outs for batting out of order. Many people thought that I was a good runner. Pinch runners were supposed to be used for the injured. I had objected to being subbed out, and this time it ensured our loss. I didn’t say it out loud, but I quit softball then.

From Guest Contributor Doug Hawley

Round One

It was the end of the first round between Rockcrusher Rocco, the favorite, and Lefty Louie. Rocco wasn't called 'Rockcrusher' for nothing. And not just for publicity's sake. He could really hit.

Louie's manager, Al, and cutman, Mel, were in the corner with Louie…

"Do you think you can go another round, Louie?"

"Huh?"

"A round? Another round?"

"Is that you, Sally?"

"No. It's me, Al."

"What?"

"Remember what I told you? When he jabs twice with the left, he throws his right cross."

"Sally, I can't believe you're here."

"It's me and Mel, Louie."

"I still can't believe it…"

From Guest Contributor David Sydney

House Rules

"No!” the vacation condos manager barked, his stink-eye getting stinkier by the second. “You cannot borrow a screwdriver to repair your drone. Drones are strictly forbidden on the property!”

“Geez, alright,” I said. Man, there’s a harshness on the edge of town. Last time I book with Wazoo Properties.

“And by the way,” he said. “No more ukulele playing on the lanai or by the pool. It’s strictly…”

“Forbidden?”

He nodded yes.

“One more thing,” he said, pointing at the NO SMOKING sign.

“So, what you’re saying…”

“Yes. No drones, no tools, no frets...and you don’t get no cigarettes!”

From Guest Contributor Lee Hammerschmidt

Lee is a Visual Artist/Writer/Troubadour who lives in Oregon. He is the author of the short story collection, A Hole Of My Own. Check out his hit parade on YouTube!

Equals

“Hurry up with those bricks!” the manager screamed.

The workers glared at him but moved faster, wheeling bricks to the concrete slab.

Looking at his watch, the manager scowled. “This building isn’t going to make itself. If you work harder, maybe one day you’ll be my equal.”

The group of men laughed and shook their heads. They spoke in their native tongue, their words meaningless to the manager.

“What are you saying? Speak English!”

They looked at him with contempt, and a man stepped forward before answering, “Learn our language and find out, then maybe someday you’ll be our equal.”

From Guest Contributor Caitlyn Palmer

The Benefit Of Integrity

He sat alone at lunch. The rest of the section gathered near the tea urn to create a susurration of disapproval, which reached for some sort of crescendo which might adequately protest his being promoted without due process.

The manager emerged from her office, paused at the door – interrupting her daily early escape – to absorb, glancing occasionally in his direction. Then she approached – a study in authority.

“Sean–”

A sudden gust whipped the vertical blinds inward, toppling a desk tidy perched atop an in-tray filled with unexamined client files. The clatter distracted.

“We’re public servants. They’re entitled. I told them.”

From Guest Contributor Perry McDaid

Pollution

My pager summons me to the Master Observation Analysis Lab (MOAL).

Based on the theory telescopes will see pollution in the atmosphere of planets which have, or had, industrial life as we might know it, MOAL is analysing photographic images of planetary atmospheres.

Initially we agreed upon three levels of pollution, Minimal, Moderate, High, which are yet to be calibrated into sub-levels.

“We've found the very first planet with measurable readings and in the High zone,” calls the Manager to me excitedly. “We need you to verify.”

“Wow! Fantastic! How many light years away?”

“It’s in our own solar system!”

From Guest Contributor Barry O'Farrell

Barry is an actor living in Brisbane, Australia. Barry's other stories can be found on Cyclamens & Swords, 50 Word Stories and of course here at A Story In 100 Words.