I asked several AC writers to write a story using the following 8 words and phrases:
stainless steel kitchen appliances
under the radar
miniature sewing kit
Here are their unedited stories for your reading pleasure:
Catherine Dagger -read more
It was always like that with the LSD. Angie was in the kitchen tearing holes in her pantyhose and throwing stainless steel kitchen appliances against the wall. “The aliens” she yelled matter-of-factly “are getting in under the radar. You crazies can’t see them.”
There was an old Pat Boone song playing on the radio – his 50s version of Fats Domino’s “Ain’t That a Shame”. Angie shrieked “Yeh it’s a shame all right” as she flung the pumpkin pie against the door. She had put a pair of rubber gloves on and was brandishing a miniature sewing kit now. “The scissors” she screamed. “Even with their goddamned know-it-all extraterrestrial we-can-do-anything-we-want-with-you-suckers artificial intelligence they can’t beat the scissors.”
“Yes” I said wearily. “That’s her.”
The police went inside. I waited outside with the doctor and paramedics.
Secretly, we all knew artificial intelligence would spell doom for Mankind, just as Pat Boone had done for music and television. Our twisted logic, or lack thereof, denied the truth of inevitable obsolescence as the dominant species on this planet. We insisted on working under the radar in spite of the warnings.
Detractors had tried to use charts and presentations to point out the obvious dangers of creating these undead things, these things that cannot die, and so superior to us. They tried warning us that the dangers were more obvious than shoplifting stainless steel kitchen appliances by stuffing them down our pantyhose, and trying to walk out of the store un-noticed. Did we listen? No. Instead we mocked them, asking if their charts were available in pumpkin pie flavor, too. Bwahaha, we laughed in unison…bwa…ha…ha.
But the sterile, laboratory-grade rubber gloves truly are on the other hands now. And as I succumb to the anesthetic given to me in spite of my struggles, I can’t help but notice how odd that something so advanced is reaching for a miniature sewing kit, of all things. Strange it seems indeed, as everything goes dark, upon my last day as human.
I have found a great way to gently wash pantyhose. I stuff them in the basket of my dishwasher. Well, a pair got stuck in the drain and my dishwasher backed up and died, so I went to Lowe’s to browse in the stainless steel kitchen appliance aisle. I was trying to stay under the radar, but who do I run into but Pat Boone, warbling “Love Letters in the Sand” in aisle 6. Now I like Pat, but he’s so old that these days he’s running on artificial intelligence. That guy can talk your ear off. So, there I was hiding behind the rubber gloves display, trying to get home to make a pumpkin pie for dinner. After a few minutes, old Pat finally cornered a guy in an orange vest and began lecturing him about the store not carrying miniature sewing kits. He thought he was in Wal-Mart. I think I heard him break into “Because of You” as he flipped they guy off and left.
Henry had a secret.
Well actually he had more than one secret, but THIS secret was one that he preferred to keep under the radar, less his colleagues at work find out and make his life a misery.
Henry’s secret was, that he enjoyed wearing women’s pantyhose.
There was just something he liked about the sensation, and in case he had a problem, he always kept a miniature sewing kit on him.
Henry enjoyed cooking, and loved his stainless steel kitchen appliances. While washing the dishes wearing rubber gloves and listening to Pat Boone, having cooked a mean pumpkin pie, he pondered the subject of artificial intelligence.
“I wish I had pantyhose,” Anna grumbled, tugging at her thick, black stockings, “like the American women do.” Hurrying to her cleaning job at the 1959 American National Exhibition in Moscow, she pulled on her rubber gloves, eager to see the stainless steel kitchen appliances she’d heard so much about. A delicious scent reached her nose and she saw a young man sitting at the display table, calmly eating a large slice of pie.
“Oh, no!” he yelled, jumping up in dismay. Seeing Anna, he grinned disarmingly. “I’ve eaten so much pumpkin pie, I’ve popped the button right off these pants. I can’t go on like this!”
Anna had hoped to stay under the radar long enough to examine the kitchen display, but this man sounded desperate! Sighing, she pulled the miniature sewing kit she’d gotten for her birthday out of her pocket. “I can help,” she said simply. As the young man huddled in a small closet, telling her all about the booth where John McCarthy was explaining his Artificial Intelligence experiments, she sewed his button back on. As she handed the pants in, he said, “Thanks! You are a lifesaver.” Taking her hand, he said, “My name is Pat Boone, by the way. Well, I have to go and sing for Khrushchev now!” And off he ran, leaving a wide-eyed Anna staring after him.
As I hurried out my front door, late as usual, I caught sight of my next door neighbor’s clothesline. I did a double take because the line was full from one end to the other with nothing but pantyhose! This would be unusual on anyone’s clothesline but my next door neighbors were men. I knew they were gay but I didn’t think they were transvestites. As I drove by their front door I spotted delivery men carrying in brand new stainless steel kitchen appliances. Through the open door I spotted one of my male neighbors in full drag, complete with high heeled shoes. Geez, I thought they wanted to keep their relationship under the radar. What would be next, I wondered? My thoughts ran wild as I imagined both of them listening to Pat Boone CD’s while one of them baked a homemade pumpkin pie and the other washed the dishes while wearing bright pink rubber gloves. They probably even carried around miniature sewing kits in case the hem pulled out in any of their short mini skirts. Heavens, even if I thought to carry one, I wouldn’t be able to find it in my black hole of a purse unless I had help from a personal assistant in the form of a robot with artificial intelligence!
Many thanks to the participants! If anyone you are interested in participating in future ‘Tell me a Story’ publications, please send me a PM.
AC Writers listed above