“Three gods once walked the earth as men,” says Ratio Tile softly. “But they were unused to human needs, and had to demand food of the animals. Fox gave them her food for fear of their power, as did Monkey.”
They’re rushing toward the cratered gray island, as if it were a sponge for all the sea. “Kid, get to the port rigger!” howls Dog Shouting. “Dragalong, get the wheel–”
“But Rabbit refused,” says Ratio, “so they threw him in a fire and ate him. The smoke of his body rose up and up, and blackened the face of the moon…”
Thursday, November 8, 2007
Turns out the blood of the workers is a pretty lousy oil substitute.
“I told you we should have used their fat!” fumes Dagny.
“They don’t have any fat,” snaps Olga, “they’re all on Atkins, remember? Fourth Estate! More blood!”
Fourth Estate cranks the hose-pump enthusiastically, but Dagny knocks the nozzle out of her hand. “You’re only going to gum it up more!” she says.
“You–you Rawlsian!” Olga tackles her, and they collapse wrestling into an ankle-deep blood pool.
“This is hot,” pants Dagny, struggling, “I bet we could sell tickets.”
“Fourth Estate! Get the camera!” shrieks Olga.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Invisible things chip the rooftop concrete as they sprint, accompanied by a staccato of sonic booms. Zach wrings his brain for what the training would have him do and remembers that, yes, this was the part where he got up to go potty.
As if summoned by the memory, Hidebound rises up before them, grinning, two-fisting pistols. “Move!” shouts Zach, grabs Sara by the waist, and hauls them both off the side of the roof.
“What the mother of shit!” she shrieks at him as they plummet.
“I was hoping I’d think of a follow-up by now,” Zach admits.
Tuesday, November 6, 2007
The Leonard Richardsons emerge from their cocoons and shake hands.
“A great moment for humanity!” says Leonard Richardson.
“I move to never elect a leader-clone,” Leonard Richardson declares.
“Seconded,” says Leonard18Richardson. “An ordinal-free society is a postscarcity society.”
The others look at him narrowly. “Was that a subscript?” says Leonard Richardson.
“Oh no,” says Leonard18Richardson. “Quickly, brothers, excise it!”
“REDISTRIBUTE!” chant the Leonard Richardsons, barehandedly rending him. “REDISTRIBUTE!”
Dr. Guigar hits pause. “In every simulation,” he sighs. “Clearly, force-growing your own clones is–”
“Do it again!” says Leonard Richardson eagerly. “But this time give them forks!”
As you know, BØb, in our current era all mechanical parts are interchangeable! This is why we call them Anonymous Mechanoid Nanite Units, or “AMMO.”
Scoring hits on enemy combatants will disrupt their nanite field integrity, dropping AMMOs you can use to replenish your own field or power your weapon. Speaking of weapons, recent supply drops have conveniently scattered everything from microblasters to MegaTrank 5000s™ over the field of combat, with the most powerful items naturally landing on high, difficult-to-reach platforms!
Standard military procedure to reach these items involves jumping, just as you detonate an explosion directly beneath yourself.
“But he was being coy,” Proserpina will muse to Iala at the start of the new semester, “and he wasn’t just there about Father’s holdings. He’s in a different kind of business altogether.”
Iala wrinkles her face. “You really think he wanted to marry you? To his son?”
“Only as a short-term goal,” says Proserpina absently, “he wants something else in–” She stops and blinks. “Wait, do you think it’s improper? It’s not unusual to plan these things.”
“It’s not that–he’s from down there.”
“The world’s getting smaller.” Proserpina’s smiling now.
“I’ll wager he killed someone,” says Iala darkly.
Thursday, November 1, 2007
Phew, Janet killed the serial killer. Just in time for Halloween! She smiles at the costumed kids.
Except that one isn’t a kid! He’s the serial killer! Janet stabs him desperately.
Phew.
Janet explains everything to a policewoman.
“Sounds pretty frightening,” says the policewoman, and looks up. It’s not a policewoman! It’s her best friend who got killed by the serial killer and now she’s a zombie!
Janet wakes up! It was all a hallucinogenic episode. Phew.
Except it’s not and the serial killer kills her!
Oh man! The surprise fourth ending! You could never see it coming!
Because of Halloweeeen!
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
The log became a crocohippolion and its bone-snacking jaws vanished Stevie’s reed.
“Double trouble!” gasped Stevie. “I hope you’re ready for this, boy!” The Justin sank his toes into river mud, took up gedan and met its eyes.
My name is Amemet, they said, and I was never worshipped. Once I ate the hearts of men and gods, until the river of their fear ran dry.
Do you know how one acquires a taste for souls? Do you see how long I have starved, undying?
Do you see that I am hungry?
The Justin threw down his blade and ran.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
“Mr. Goldspratt?” says the uniformed woman at his door.
Melvin blinks. “Is this about the hotel room? It was trashed when we–”
“No, I’m from the DPJ,” she says. “I have here a copy of the liner notes from your most recent album. Could you read the highlighted section and confirm that you, as the credited lyricist, did in fact rhyme ‘sky’ with ‘high?'”
“That’s a misprint!” says Melvin desperately. “See, the character’s last name is Hy–”
The agent sighs. “Poetic license and proof of parrhesia, please.”
“What?” says Melvin. “Nobody buys rhetorical insurance anymore!”
Later, in jail, he gets stabbed.
Streetlights, and heartache, and Jimmy Eat World.
For a minute Grigory is every jacket-wearing shag-haired boy in the world, and Maryanne is every girl with a crooked smile and her arms wrapped around pain. They’re driving down a road bordered by dying grass in Espirito Santo, and Illinois, and Järvamaa; the truck’s heater coughs dust and the flannel smell of grandfathers.
They believe every generation has shared a moment like this, and they’re wrong. Recorded music and double-lane highways are less than a century old. What they share is something more important: the myopia of youth.