Publisher: 100 Word Stories
Weekly Challenge: 1032
Topic: Fancy
Submitted: December 29, 2025
Published: February 1, 2026
Participants: 8 total
Recommended Topic: Who threw the spaghetti?
I saw an advertisement. It was a feast fit for a ruler of house cats. There was meat, treats, and fancy cat nip.
What’s fancy about it you ask?
Well, there’s a normal, plain cat nip that loses its scent the moment it hits the floor. The dried out flakes have no smell at all.
But the “fancy” catnip? Oh boy, I’ll tell you. The POWER… It’s out of this world! If you haven’t experienced it before, I don’t know how to express what it is. It’s definitely the cat’s meow.
You’ll be seeing time shake hands with colorful sounds.
About the 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge
About the 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge
100 Word Stories
…And, as always, keep it brief!


The 100 Word Stories Weekly Challenge was (and still is) hosted by Laurence Simon—better known in Second Life as Crap Mariner—who built a wonderfully strange, tight-knit community around storytelling discipline.

Originally, he started a daily random theme on ScriberOptics via 100words on May 13, 2005, based on a photo, using a combination of everyone’s submitted words rather than posting a single topic. He would write short 100-word stories featuring recurring characters, such as Abraham Lincoln and the Mustard Man.

In June 2005, he then spun the stories into their own subdomain from his personal blog at podcasting.isfullofcrap.com, featuring multiple authors and guest entries. Rather than daily challenges, he settled for weekly challenges, which were due on April 21, 2006, for the topic “Bunnies!” It was published on April 22, 2006. He continued each week posting a topic and invited people to write a story of 100 or [sic]Less Nessman 2.0 words long. Most participants went for exactly 100. It was a form of microfiction—a subset of flash fiction—where the limitation wasn’t restrictive but creatively freeing. Within those 100 words, stories could be funny, heartfelt, surreal, absurd, reflective, or unexpectedly powerful.
Laurence encouraged contributors not just to write but to perform. He always invited people to record themselves reading their stories and send in the audio so their voices could be part of the experience. If someone didn’t—or couldn’t—he gladly read their story for them. Sometimes he even used software to alter his voice, adding character variety, humor, or dramatic flair, so every episode felt like a small production rather than just a reading.
The project chose to respond to the creative emptiness of podcasts at the time not with cynicism, but with creativity. Laurence filled the internet with humor, storytelling, discipline, and imagination. Eventually, the project continued under his broader creative umbrella, “One A Day Until I Die,” where he continues to celebrate the joy of storytelling in all its weird and wonderful forms.
Episodes usually feature everyone’s submissions together in one podcast, and listeners vote on their favorites. The weekly winner not only gets bragging rights but also the honor of choosing the next topic—meaning the community itself shaped what came next. Many participants came from overlapping creative spaces: writers, musicians, podcasters, and especially people in Second Life, where the challenge became something of a shared cultural experience. It wasn’t just a writing exercise; it was friendship, collaboration, creative play, and a small but meaningful part of internet history.
I even had the chance to meet Laurence once at the Second Life Community Convention, where he was handing out refrigerator magnets promoting the podcast — including one I still have today on my fridge. It’s a little artifact from a wonderfully weird, wonderfully human creative era.
This project mattered. It still does.
Paper/Wood Floor Theme from an old version of 100 Word Stories Circa 2009
Behind the Story
This story started in a very simple place: those over-the-top Fancy Feast commercials and the way my sister dramatically says the word “Fancy.” That single exaggerated word stuck in my head and wouldn’t leave, so naturally it turned into a cosmic cat-nip fever dream.
Originally, I tried writing the piece from the perspective of a regal cat queen narrating her feast. Eventually, I shifted it to feel more like someone breathlessly describing the indescribable—because how do you rationally explain truly legendary catnip? You don’t. You lean into the absurdity.
For the audio, I experimented heavily with MorphVOX, trying everything from house-cat voices to lion roars. The problem wasn’t the software—it was human reality. I couldn’t maintain convincing inflection, and many of the filters sounded crackly even after tuning with Voice Doctor. So I embraced something more authentic: my natural voice.
The music, however, is where the “other dimension” lives. I generated two instrumentals with producer.ai, layered them in Audacity, and shifted the mood right at the moment when the “fancy” catnip enters the story—like the audio equivalent of suddenly tripping into a kaleidoscope. It’s strange. It’s playful. And it’s exactly what fancy catnip should feel like.




