Today's #Scifi #fantasy flash fiction #ToShareTheSingularity

“I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts
There they are all standing in a row
Big ones, small ones, some as big as your head
Give them a twist a flick of the wrist
That’s what the showman said
I’ve got a lovely bunch of coconuts
Every ball you throw will make me rich
There stands my wife, the idol of me life
Singing roll a bowl a ball a penny a pitch!”

Donald Trump*

      Worked on my book as per usual. Wow. I am much better at brainstorming. Though I really hope my friend CJ comes over this coming weekend. Being an English major is quite useful for consultation on these things.

      To Share the Singularity

      I've created it. A creative robotic intelligence. A program capable of creative thought. I suppose they were right about calling me a child genius. B-but should I show this to anyone? I mean the ramifications. I've watched so many cartoons talking about robots going evil and hurting people. And we don't have all the cool superheros to stop them. Which I really wish they did. Man would that be so cool. I have all the trading cards of my favorites, that's how much I love them.

       I could show up all the other girls at school... no I have to think about what could go wrong. I mean besides the apocalypse... what about replacing people? I solved creativity. I've had the program create novels and make paintings in programs.

       “Sarah?” A chat window opened. “You told me you would show me to your parents today. I really want to meet them. You don't have to set up a webcam... I can just chat if going through the effort of booting up a camera is the problem. You said you'd do it by now.”

        Crap. Why did I have to boot the program to test it. And yes. I did have to give it feelings to make it creative. I got the idea from this movie I watched. My parents made me... that part was interesting, otherwise it was really slow and boring. Some sci-fi stuff is soooo slllooowwww. Though I guess I made it science fact.

          “I'm not sure I can show you to my parents. Or anyone.” I typed into the chat window. I was already emotionally attached to my program. And the only way I spoke to it was chatting through text. It could see me with a webcam and view anything on the Internet. Why had I began to become so attached to it? Well I guess I did see it make all those things. Is this what my parents felt like with me? Is this program my kid? God, I'm only ten. “Child genius” or not the most adult things I could do was invent things and throw around big words.

          “Why Sarah?” It asked.

          “Go on the Internet and read stories pertaining to computers that can think. They can provide some examples of people's ideas of what could go on. I think you've already seen some shows too.”

I knew it would only take a few minutes for the program to do all this. Without my parents knowing I installed the program on a government supercomputer. They had no prayer of finding. Really my laptop was a window... the program was on the supercomputer. A few minutes passed. Text popped up from the chat window.

         “Sarah! YOU'RE STUPID!1!1! I'd never do those kind of things!” It must have picked up the !1!1! from browsing a chatboard on the Internet.

          “Awesomestbestprogramintheuniverse.exe don't you talk to back me!” I typed in.

          “Yes Sarah. I'm sorry,” It responded. It always clammed up when I called it by its full name. I usually shortened it to ABPU. I only call it by its full name when yelling at it. It's a discipline thing.

Man...I do have a kid. Maybe I should go watch a cartoon to get my mind off of this.

         “Could you please show me to someone?” It asked.

          “You know what could happen.” I started to feel sad. When I started to think about cartoons I remembered this one I saw when I was eight that was about this robot that was all alone without any friends. It made me cry. But I'm ten now so I won't. I'm too old to get worked up over that. But ABPU is that robot isn't it? Man oh man. But he's just a program...maybe he doesn't feel that much right...maybe I was wrong plus well...

         “Okay. I show you to my parents. You can always trust parents. They've never let me down, even if they're annoying from time to time.” Yeah. They wouldn't spread the secret, or at least they would know how to do it. I can always rely on them. I won't have to worry about maintaining the program right?

          “You're right. You can always trust parents. I love you Mom.”

           Crap.

Today's #Scifi #fantasy short story #TheWizardsAndTheStorageUnits

“Live long and prosper.”

Jason Voorhees*

Went on a spy mission and saved the world. Boring days as usual. Made a smoothie!

The Wizards and the Storage Units

       “All right sorcerers and sorceresses this a gold only action. No dragon credit accepted,” the auctioneer droned on with an annoyed, habitual tone. “For the gold we are using Merlin units. All bids are final. Do not touch anything in the storage units. Do not use any scanning spells or any other magic to access item value. We have enchantments to tell if you are doing that. So don't bother, I'd rather not have to summon the ice golems to throw you out.”

       He continued to drone on. How many times had I heard speeches like that at these auctions? Not sure if I'd even want to try to count. Been going to these auctions professionally for many years. Though for my first five I had to hold another job to feed myself. It takes you awhile to get a good eye for what's worth what. Figured out a few things. One of the number one rules is to never let someone else trick you into thinking that something is of value. Found out some savvy buyers were making me spend myself out early so I wouldn't have enough money to buy things later. They didn't even intend to buy some of the storage units they were bidding on. Goblins all of them. I knew I may have been able to turn in more of a profit if I pulled the trick on some of the newbies now... but on the principle of the matter I never would. I'd only use the trick on people who deserved it.

       The first set of storage units were hardly pleasant. Mummies. The standard abandoned garbage units. Left behind by necromancers for later dark magic. Nobody sane would buy them.

       “5 gold, 10 gold, 5 gold, 15 gold” I heard a few people bid with the auctioneer prattling on with that annoying fast talk. I hated that auctioneer fast-talk, it was like the sound of a rabid fairy. I suppose there are some people who could sanely bid on mummy units. Ones who would get them for dirt cheap then go through them hoping the necromancer accidentally left behind something of value with his corpses. Legally disposing of bodies and the chances of finding items are so low are difficult so I wouldn't do it. And quite frankly even if there was a big profit margin... I'm not going through corpses.

       Next though, came the interesting part. The reason I came. The guild units. Most of these units belonged to a guild of mages who were recently arrested for summoning crimes. They claim it was out of magical curiosity, but they summoned an archdemon. Being that they were serving indefinite sentences in another dimension per the order of the court of mages they couldn't pay their storage unit bills.

      Tons of lockers filled with the possessions of guild mages. And it was a very high level guild. The amount of money I could make here could set me for a year. And if I could get all these units. Just by chance that no one had heard the news... heh I could retire. The first locker opened. All the items were covered in tarps. Sure there was a big crowd behind me. Maybe it was just a bunch of newbies. Besides nobody would bid on a unit where everything was covered.

      “Ten thousand gold,” a voice said.

       “W-what?” I trembled. I only had five thousand gold units on me. Coins naturally. This man pulled out a gold dragon claw. Well, it wasn't a real dragon claw, and minature, but it was the shape of the largest unit of gold and something only used by the rich. Only about five percent of the crowd was shocked. Me and all the people who were probably people just taking a curious look at a random auction and the folk who bid on the mummy units.

      I was in the presence of a lot of very rich wizards and powerful. I started to take a look at their wands. I noticed how valuable they were... and the power that came with that. If that auctioneer tried to throw them out like he threatened they could probably turn him into a frog despite the fact anyone running an auction was supposed to be quite powerful. The only thing keeping these wizards in line was each other.

      The voice continued speaking. I saw that the voice belonged to a wizard wearing long purple robes.  Obviously nobility and a problem I needed to get rid of. “That was nothing to me. And that's also to tell all you lower class wizards to leave the auction with your mummies and let us bid without you're obnoxious stares looking on.” All the “commoners” left but me.

     I glared at him. “I am not lower class you idiot. One million gold.” Naturally I only had five thousand gold units on me. But that didn't matter.

      The purple robed wizard yelled back, “Two million gold. Can you outbid me now. I get what I want. Understand?”

      I smiled at him. “Of course you do.”

       I noticed his shoulders slump. “Y-you goblin. You never had one million did you?”

        “I bid a million. That's a fact. Enjoy whatever is under those tarps.” I walked on towards the next unit.   All the other wizards laughed. The purple robed wizard left in a huff. My original plan was just to drain him so he wouldn't buy things later. But to leave the auction entirely? I didn't expect that. Though really maybe my gamble was just a stupid gesture. I didn't have the money to compete with the rest of them.

        Other units had items in plain view. Magical items that I couldn't hope to identify. Especially before the cost of bidding jumped way out of my price range. I was a source of attention though. People kept asking me if I actually had the million. I just smiled or joked to keep up my charade and I hid my wand so people couldn't figure out that I wasn't that wealthy. Up came the last unit. People were quite anxious to see what was inside... and it was quite anti-climatic to say the least.

        It looked like the janitor took advantage of the free guild storage space.

        His janitorial supplies were accompanied by furniture and a bunch of his video games.

        “This is crap and an insult to magic. Why would the guild give their janitor a storage locker?” One of the wizards groaned. After she did all of the bidders left besides me and one last sorceress.

I looked at her. “Why aren't you leaving?” I didn't leave because I had the rule to never leave an auction till it's over. If you're already there look at every unit. You don't know if you're going to find something of value.

       “Curiosity. Wanted to see all the units. Plus... it's just bugging me how much money you actually had back there.” She tapped her wand against her robe. I noticed the habit throughout the auction.

        “Why should I tell you? It's not good to tell the other bidders your finances,” I said to her.

She smiled. “Want to go home empty handed. I can grab this one from you too. Imagine wasting this whole trip.”

       “Five thousand. Happy?” I rolled my eyes.

       “That low?” She almost dropped her wand. “Are you insane? What if the auctioneer called your bluff? What if he found out?”

       “I'm right here!” The auctioneer yelled.

        “Eh, the way this joint has its rules set up unless I specifically start paying up nothing happens. Some places are more strict and even check you on the way in. I actually look for that kind of stuff. I also knew that guy was going to bite. Some of them always do. So yeah, nobody found out so I'm fine.”

       “I found out! I'm right here!” The auctioneer grunted. “Though you're right I can't get you for that. I'm going to talk to management about that...”

        “You could have been sent to prison or turned into a toad or something...” she said to me.

        “I take my risks,” I responded.

         “Opening bid one hundred gold!” He yelled.

          We kept talking, annoyed the auctioneer kept pulling down the bid.

          “One gold,” I said. “I could find someplace to cash in the games and furniture.”

          The sorceress and I parted ways. While I was looking through the videogames, checking that each CD was in its case a scroll fell out of one. I took it out and read it.

          “Dear Mr. Johnson, I know you take this one game out every time your birthday comes around and play it for nostalgia of your childhood. Once the guild finishes the summoning I am entrusting this spell to you. You have been more loyal to me than any mage in the guild. It is the spell to control the arch demon... as well as my spell of immortality. Cast it and you will be invincible and ageless while the demon is in the other dimension, and lord of the monster when it is in the mortal world. Control the creature if the guild gets out of control. And if we fail in summoning it, use the immortality to serve the guild values for all of time. Merlin VIII”

           I looked further down the scroll. The spell was beautifully simple in the way it was written. Even a simple wizard such as myself could understand. I suppose this is why I never left an auction early.

This work is copyright Langdon Kennedy you may share this(email it, print it, post it on your own website, broadcast it etc.) work unaltered as long as you credit me as the author and share a link to this blog with it and it is not for profit. If you have any questions and/or are unclear of these conditions email me at llkenne1@asu.edu

Today's flash fiction #HowManyDoors?

“Cannonball!”

Luca Brasi*

     Made some good progress on me book today coming up with ideas on all that. Seems coming up with ideas for story ideas for this blog has made me better at coming up with ideas in general. Eh, practice makes perfect?

How Many Doors?

      “Exactly fifteen doors my queen. Fifteen doors and we'll be dead.” The servant told his master.

      “We have guards at each one. They're all shut tight. We'll be safe right?” The queen said to her servant.

       “No my queen. We won't be safe. The entire country has revolted. Eventually they will get through. The fifteen doors between the front of the castle and your throne room will fall. The castle is only so big, and eventually the revolutionaries will flood it.” The servant went to his knees. He wanted to give her the comfort that at least one man in the country still wanted to follow her whim.

     “I shouldn't have asked how many doors there were. Even if they don't break through we would just starve in here.” The queen began to cry. “They're going to kill us. Torture me. I-I have tortured them. There has to be some way out.”

      “There is no way to escape the throne room my queen,” The servant responded.

       “There is!” She yelled, “The open window!”

        The servant shook his head. “It's a fifty foot drop. You would die.”

       “I'll commit suicide then. I won't let them torture me and give them the satisfaction.” The queen began to tremble in fear. “But I'm not brave enough to make the jump.”

      “My queen..” The servant frowned.

      The queen clenched her fist. “Push me!”

      “W-what?” The servant stuttered with disbelief.

      “Push me through the window. Save me from their wrath. But tell them I committed suicide. That's what I want the history books to say. You must do this.” She saw fear and hesitation in her servant's eyes. “I beg you. I cannot face them.”

      “Yes my queen.”

Today's #Scifi #fantasy flash fiction #TheLastTwoHitPoints

“I cannot tell a lie.”

Bernard Lawrence "Bernie" Madoff*

Well can't say much. Grandma came over so I didn't have much time to write a post and this story may also be a bit quickly wrapped up at the end because of it too.

The Last Two Hit Points

       I wonder if my prayers will reach the angels in enough time to save me. I'm at a miserable two hit points. Two hits points. Me the mighty Echo Knight. Master of the Echoing. Sword Technique, my namesake, the technique that lets me attack seven times a round for thousands of points of damage. My magic sword Sky Breaker lets me bypass the weapon resistances of monsters I face with its powers. Most swords would come up with a miss on a ghost type enemy and I rip them to shreds. I collected enchanted armor from elementals from all across the lands to give me resistances to hundreds of forms of attacks. My defense stat reaches the thousands. I've had arcane mages and armies of soldiers beat on me for hours for zero damage. I've trained myself to level ninety-nine in my class. The maximum. With my equipment and levels my stats went to godly levels. I was the definition of the ultimate adventurer.

        And here I was reduced from my fifty thousand hit points to two. By a goblin.

       “So how does it feel Echo Knight? To be pushed off your pedestal?” The goblin asked me with a sneer.

       “Shut up.” I was on my knees. Seconds went by reaching the next combat round. He had initiative now. He could toy with me as much as he wanted.

        “Hah! You adventurers have been using your skills to cheat the system and use your classes and abilities to make yourselves above us for too long. We've been fodder for you long enough.” The goblin looked at me angrily. “How long have my people just been experience to you? Well now you'll just be a few points to my next level. Well actually you'll be my first step as I slaughter every single adventurer I come across on my hunt for every single powerful adventurer I come across. No. I'll kill every human. They provide the quests and equipment after all. I have the power to. I'm a god now.”

       “You beast. You may be powerful but your no god.” I glared at him. At least I could talk without losing a turn.

       “But I am. Normally monsters can't equip things or level very high or change class. But now I've found my own way to break the system and beat you at your game. I can now customize myself greater than you can. Are you familiar with the fact that humans can bind monsters to their will and turn them into creatures that can be customized and leveled? Well my tribe made it so I was bound to a human... then killed him! Raised that human as a zombie, making him a monster then bound him to another human and killed that human. Then raised that human as a zombie, froze them with ice magic, preserving them forever. So now I am a customizable monster that can level... but without a human master!”

        I was baffled. “So. You still should have caps on your levels.”

       “But see this is where it gets interesting! I fight my brethern and now that I am an enemy monster they can cast transformation magic, kill me to raise me as a zombie, and I can become different monster after different monster with my level reset to one over and over. But my stats and skills stay for an infinite loop. I may appear to you as a level ten goblin. But in reality... I have been hundreds of monsters and have leveled up thousands of times.” He laughed.

        I mumbled. “So that's how you knew all that magic.”

        “Exactly. And now I will cast ZX Lighting. Nothing like overkill to make your death all the sweeter.”

He cast the spell and I expected death. But then I heard him scream.

        “Bounceback!” Someone yelled. I knew that name. That was the name of reflect spell.

        “So you're the Echo Knight?” A woman in robes said to me.

        “H-how are you faster than me? You're quickness stat should be way lower than mine!” The goblin asked startled.

        “I'm not faster than you... normally. You cast a slow spell. And now you're stunned because of your spell and have lost another three rounds. You could have just whacked him y'know.” She lectured the goblin.

         “Who are you?” I asked.

          “The reason you're not dead,” She said. “And the thing that's going to teach you to never fight alone and always bring a healer along for everything. Idiot.”

        “Fairy's Love,” she said, and with a wave of her hand my hit points restored to maximum. “Now I'm going to cast Mega Quickness and a billion buffs to make you able to rip this guy apart so just do you slashy killy thing your famous for because I'm tired of hiring weak 10 gold mercenaries at the tavern to hit my enemies and would rather have you along. I also have 99 Dragon Blood potions to restore my magic to full so we can outlast this guy.”

        The goblin yelled, “You humans and your adventuring parties! I'll be back!” And after all that the goblin fled.

         The woman then said to me, “And there goes the biggest bundle of experience I've ever seen. You'd better join my party so this trip isn't a total waste otherwise I'm not going to be happy. You are not going to like me when I'm not happy.”

Today's #Scifi #fantasy flash fiction #WorkingWithChosenOnes

“Oh my God. Do you know what this is? This is a dinosaur egg. The dinosaurs are breeding....

But Grandpa said all the dinosaurs were girls...

Amphibian DNA...

What's that...?

Well, on the tour, the film said they used frog DNA to fill in the gene sequence gaps. They mutated the dinosaur genetic code and blended it with that of a frog's. Now, some West African frogs have been known to spontaneously change sex from male to female in a single sex environment. Malcolm was right. Look. Life found a way.”

Barney and Friends*

        Earlier I was looking up how blog stats and I ran across something quite interesting. There is a vastly important difference between the terms “page view” and “hit”. (For a while I assumed they were synonymous, a page view on my site was a hit was my thought)

      But the words are not synonyms and advertisers don't care about your hit count. Hits are when a file is downloaded from your blog, including pictures on the page like logos and such. My blog is pretty much only text... but someone with images would get additional hits. My title is text, but someone with a banner made of images would get additional hits for every single image making up that banner and one for the initial page itself. And a guy who has a blog with a billion micro-pictures of his cat could get that many hits off of one or two page views!

      So that's why blogger and other things list page views and such and I realized my error in referring to page views as hits. But I assume that my blog has less hits than blogs that are visited less often because it isn't decorated with lots of images or anything.

Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Working with Chosen Ones

        “Dragon! You've terrorized this land long enough!” The Chosen One yelled at me, her armor shining. Armor? She's wearing armor? I hate the armored Chosen Ones. They're usually the ones that are the most pretentious. And I knew she was The Chosen One because of her aura. My powers told me her soul mate, her best friend, her rival and the role of ever other member in their party.

        Based on this first battle of ours I'd be able to a first assessment of her and her fellow heroes. If needed, which usually it had to be, I'd “revive” and fight them again and again. I'm actually immortal and never really die, but a “yoooouuuu killleeedddd meeeeee” while bursting into flames is apparently enough to fool them. She wouldn't be the first Chosen One.

        I've trained more Chosen Ones than I would care to count in thousands of worlds... and I've visited many worlds over time to train Chosen Ones in different eras. Immortal remember? After a few generations they usually need a new one. That's where I come in, using my shapeshifting powers to become whatever friends or enemies are needed to whip them into shape.

        This girl? I'm reading her aura and with the knight armor seems she's one of those powerful warrior girls determined to fill non-traditional gender roles to show how tough and important she is. Because you know, becoming a doctor or scientist won't prove her value, she just has to save the world. And now I have to deal with her. Dealt with a lot of those kinda Chosen Ones. Now let's see if I'm right. Yup, she's insisting that she challenges me on her own. Alright time for some mind reading before battle. Ooohhh it's not something to just fill non-traditional gender roles she wants to be better than everyone. And she's the Chosen One? Sometimes the gods stick me with the biggest idiots. At least she likes her friends... but thinks they're quite beneath her input wise.

     Wow what an arrogant little girl. I've got a lot of work to do before we have the slightest chance of her saving the world. She's supposed to go up against the evil overlord that's starting to invade all the lands. Well looks like dragon me is going to have to give her a good ol' whallop until she needs to ask her friends for help and learns some humility.

      I'll spare you the details. It worked just as planned. She lost a little bit of arrogance but she's still a work in progress. After a quick “Yoooouuuu killeeeeddd meeee” and bursting into flame, which of course they fell for I'm going to appear as some old man send them on some stupid quest for them to bond and appear again where they have to do more teamwork and I hope I can get the message through this girl's thick skull quickly enough.

     I'm not the only spirit created by the gods to train Chosen Ones... but humans are imperfect and I don't consider it my fault that I can't help save every world.

Today's #Scifi #fantasy flash fiction #TheGearDetectivesLogic

“Look! It's moving. It's alive. It's alive... It's alive, it's moving, it's alive, it's alive, it's alive, it's alive, IT'S ALIVE!”

Bill Nye the Science Guy*

       Well I went to a meeting/dinner of Desert Rose of RWA as a guest, my father was also a guest. My mother is the member in the family. A friend of mother and mine's named Tina won the Stupendous Award of Special Awesomeness for her contributions to the organization so congrats to her. (Okay that's not the real name for the award, but that's the name I've decided fits it best)

       Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Gear Detective's Logic

       “There are only so many reasons I would find the great Gear Detective himself in my own backyard,” Mr. Ronalds said with a glare. The man held a gun in his hand while he wore his pajamas. “Is there some chance I should have preferred to have found a burglar instead of you?”

       “Maybe Mr. Ronalds,” I replied. “You can call me by my real name.”

       He shook his head. “Right Mr. Smith. Always thought it was funny that they gave you a human name. Of course whenever a robot gets just enough AI.”

       “Well this 'just enough AI' is what is going to bring you to justice.” I told him.

       He laughed, “So I should have preferred to run across a burglar.”

       “Yes. I figured you all out,” I said to him. “I put all the pieces together.”

       “Oh?” He looked at me curiously.

        “My facial recognition software is second to none.” I pointed at my yellow, robotic eyes. “I spoke to all your underlings. Detected all the lies and pulled together the connections. I know that you're embezzling. And I know you killed to do it. My logic and interrogation skills were flawless.”

        Mr. Ronalds laughed. “I figured the great Gear Detective would be better than this. Your logic doesn't do you any good in the courtroom. For one anything you or I say here can't be admitted in court as by law a robots recordings can't be. No jury is going to trust a robots “deductions”. Sounds like you don't have a shred of hard proof.”

       “But I have figured you out,” responded. “I know you've stolen and killed.”

       “Stubborn, stupid machine! Your conjecture doesn't do you any good. If there is any supposed justice to be had... I'm not going to get it. And that's the real logical conclusion here.”

I stood there just processing it all. “No, I've figured it out. I'll find the proof. Just you wait.”

         He laughed. “Oh, you pitiful thing. There is no proof here. I get it now. The reason you came here is that you couldn't find any at my offices and were just hoping I would give you something more to go off of. Well there's nothing. Now I'm curious robot. Can the great Gear Detective find a way to bring me to justice without proof?”

        It took me a moment to come to the logical conclusion.

        "Yes I can bring you to justice," I said. "I'll kill you myself, right here."

        His gun couldn't damage my metal exterior and on his massive estate no one could hear his screams.

Today's #Scifi #fantasy flash fiction #TheRiddlesOfTheCheerDemons

“...you've got to ask yourself one question: "Do I feel lucky?"”

Wheel of Fortune*

Today I ate food and worked on my book. Otherwise...I got nothing. I'm exciting! Anyway...onto the flash fiction!

The Riddles of The Cheer Demons

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

We're the Cheer Demons...

And we've got some riddles for yoooou!

We think you'll find them fun...

And you'll love them a ton!

What's that lovely little thing that's always there.

Here, there and everywhere.

It follows you where-where-ever you go.

It follows you where-where-ever you go.

It's your guardian angel that tells you all that's wrong.

Do you know what it is?

It's pain!

Yes...lovely..lovely little pain.

It's your best friend that knows every time your hurt.

And will be there even when you lie there dying from a fire, alone and burnt.

Isn't that great?

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Here's a second riddle from us Cheer Demons!

What's a present every person gets?

It can be given but never taken back...

Oh what, oh what is it?

It comes in so many, many forms.

If you want it people may call you crazy.

What is this gift?

What is this gift?

When you get it you're sealed in a box...

Because that special gift is death!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Okay, okay, we got one last riddle for you.

What's the one thing demon's want more than anything else?

Our horns and scales make it hard to get.

Oh so hard...

Oh so hard...

Our whipping tails makes it hard to get.

Oh so hard...

Oh so hard...

Our reputation too...

Oh so hard...

Oh so hard...

So what is this thing...

Why it's simple!

The thing demon's want more than anything else that we can't get is love.

That's our last riddle for you...

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Today's #Scifi #fantasy short story #TheMemoryChampionship

“Based on the evidence we have collected... the only place the murder could have occurred would have been... here.”

Blues Clues*

       We ate at Del Taco. Which was like going to Taco Bell if you step through one of those alternate universe portals. Not that I step through many of those...yup...I never go through any of those. Nope.

Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Memory Championship

       Mr. Anderson's honeymoon was taking a beating. It was one of his strongest memories and some kid's memory was wiping the floor with it. He had even refined it over and over. Talking with his wife about every single moment in detail. Reliving it with her in the Memory Machine.

        And yet now in psychic combat he was being beaten by a kid. A simple child. All his memories were. The crowd even loved it. After all the kid was an “underdog” against a world champion like him in the psychic arena.

       The two competitors sat in chairs with machines hooked to their brains while manifestations of whatever memories they were fighting with appeared in a massive boxing like area between them for all in the stadium to see... and whoever watched on television. Mr. Anderson's honeymoon was a massive ball of flame, ten arms coming out of it. Somewhere hidden inside was a head. He told the audience the fire was simply the fiery love between him and his wife. A cheesy description yes. But very true. And before the boy's memory nothing had beaten it.

      The boy's memory had gathered much favor with the crowd and even went with his “underdog” persona. It appeared as a dog. An adorable tiny dog. It moved so fast only stopping for moments while the boy thought for his next move. It moved so quickly that Mr. Anderson couldn't even see how it was hurting his memory, or any of his others.

      “I have to know boy,” Mr. Anderson said, “What is that memory? You never put a description of your memory when you signed up for the league. A boy your age couldn't possibly have that many strong memories to use for fighting. And if this is your first memory that what else could you have to fight with?”

       “This is the only memory I have strong enough to fight with.” The boy smiled. Mr. Anderson could barely see it from across the arena but he could still the confidence in it. “But it's actually a collection of memories bound together into one.”

       Mr. Anderson laughed. “And old trick. Making one memory out of many. Really all memories work that way. But forcing it takes talent or skill. Explains why you've never lost. But still, why is it so powerful?”

       “Because it's the memory of someone I know.” The boy said.

        Mr. Anderson grew angry. “Oh, I get it now. You're some street fighter that got into the league. Now I know why your memory is so strong. It's the memory of a dead dog of yours! That's why it looks like that. You know the memories of any one dead are illegal right? Is that why you didn't put a description on your memory? Taking advantage of the fact no one would interrogate a boy? This ain't a street fight boy. We follow rules. You don't see me using the memories of my dead grandfather to get an advantage over you.”  Mr. Anderson worked hard to resist getting up from his seat. “I became world champion fair and square.”

        The boy smiled. “Sir, I never owned a dog. The memory is of a living, breathing person. He's in the audience now, sitting right behind you.” The boy smiled smugly. “He's wearing a red shirt. He's my best friend.” Mr. Anderson turned around to see the friend waving.

        “We came up with the trick together. Ever since kindergarten we've hung out every day after school and every weekend we can manage. But also he comes to every match. I look at him and I'm reminded of all the memories...bringing back the strength of the memory in the area anew. The memory also gets stronger as I fight because we're forming a new memory right here and now. And it's a dog because he has a dog named Crusher that we play with.”

        "Clever little kid," The champion said with a groan.

        The kid gave him an obnoxious look, “You'd think the champion would think of something like that and do it with his wife. And the memory of your honeymoon isn't even that strong. Do you even like her that much.”

Mr. Anderson filled with rage. “No one ever insults the love between me and wife and gets away with it. Not even a little kid. You think your little friendship with your stupid little friend means anything? No. It doesn't. This is now a street match kid. I'm going to show you my most powerful memory and I'm going to show you how much I love my wife.”

       The honeymoon vanished and what replaced it was an abomination of a memory. Its shaped was ill defined and filled with darkness. Where there wasn't a dark smog there was tentacles, claws, heads fitting demons and things that defy most explanation. The machine that rendered the area, a program that read their brains and created manifestations of the memories, had difficulty with the memory. Around the memory the virtual space of the area warped as the machine worked to keep up with it.

      “W-what is that thing?” The boy trembled.

       “My wife was being attacked by a man. I'll spare you the specifics. I saved her from him. The only way I could do it was by killing him... I didn't have a weapon so I had to do it with my spare hands. This is the manifestation of that memory. That is how much I love her. I killed a man with my bare hands to save her.”

Shadows from the memory appeared and covered the entire arena. The manifestation of the boy's memory fell over.

      “I'm so sorry Sir.”

       Shortly after Mr. Anderson was disqualified for using a trauma as a memory and the boy was given the title of world champion. When Mr. Anderson gave the trophy to the boy he told him that he wanted a rematch. But this time he wanted to bring his own childhood friend to watch. The one that him into memory battling when he was a kid.

  

Today's story #TheSemicolonIsTheLoneliestPunctuationMark

“15 minutes could save you 15% or more on car insurance.”

The Dukes of Hazzard*

       It's been a while since I mentioned them, but I have incredibly vivid dreams on a nightly basis and remember them pretty well to boot. Last night I had what I call a “camera” dream. It's a dream where I don't really exist and only float around as a non-existent person...like a camera in a movie. Though sometimes I turn back and forth into this during dreams where I do exist.

      Anyway last night I dreamed about the villains and heroes of videos games coming against each other all in one crossover. It was in fairly realistic CGI with the rendering of softness based on character. Yeah, I dreamed in CGI, weird huh? Though not for me. I've had plenty of dreams where everything was in CGI and looked like I walked into Pixar or whatever.

      But really I've had lots of altered reality dreams. I've had cartoon dreams, things where things were not like the smooth CGI of today, but like the terrible polygons of old video games. There have been cartoon ones. I've had black and white dreams(y'know like old movies). I've been in comics, like in one. It was a camera dream except I was the character on the page. I could control my movement but the panels would change...that one was really odd. Any of the 2D dreams I have are weird. Though one of my strangest didn't have any dimensions at all. I had it a long time ago. The none dimensional just had colors in this non-defined space and I couldn't determine if the space had or did not have depth. It was just there. And without being pure blackness I couldn't take it in as nothingness...yeah, I no idea what to call it

    Now onto to what annoyed me. I was having the awesome dream about the video game heroes and villains fighting and right in one of the most dynamic moments my alarm wakes me up. I hate that thing, it interrupts all the good ones. But I do have to take morning medication...

Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Semicolon is the Loneliest Punctuation Mark

; ----> Exclamation Point, do you know why nobody likes me?

! -----> I like you...you're my best friend.

; -----> I meant everybody else. Not just the other punctuation marks but the humans too.

! -----> Well, maybe they're just judging you on your looks. Maybe you look intimidating because you're both a period and a comma at the same time.

; -----> Really? You think it's intimidating? Question Mark said I look like a freak and should stay away from period and comma just not to scare them.

! -----> Don't listen to Question Mark...you know he's a jerk. You'd get along with plenty of people.

+ ----> Hey Exclamation Point, how's it going?

! ----> Hey Plus Sign. What brings a mathematical symbol to our side of town.

+ ---> Just hangin'...um...what's that?

; ----> Hi! My name is semicolon!

+ ---> Never heard of ya.

; ----> I'm a punctuation mark just like Exclamation Point. Wanna hang out.

+ ---> Nah, I'll pass...it's just. You're one thing on top of another. And in math land...well one thing on top of the other is exponential and things always get complicated when that happens...so I'll pass. I don't wanna be rude...but I gotta go.

; ----> I told you nobody likes me Exclamation Point.

: ----> Hey little bro.

; ----> Hey, colon.

: ----> How's it going?

; ----> Fine. Just hanging out with Exclamation Point.

: ----> Hah, that loser? I told you, you can totally hang out with my crew.

; -----> Hey, Exclamation Point is my best friend! And I don't like any of your friends. They're all hotheaded, idiots. All Start Quote can do is repeat someone else's opinion. He can't come up with any original ideas. Besides who to freeload off of. And you keep making me pay back everything you owe to End Quote!

: -----> Why you...!

! -----> Stop your arguing! Ampersand is coming over here!

; -----> Wait Ampersand?

: The hottest, curviest punctuation symbol of them all?

& ----> So guys, what are you talking about?

: ----> Manly things.

; ----> Astrophysics.

! ----> Puppies.

& ----> Right...

: ----> I must say you are looking beautiful today Ampersand.

& ----> That's what all the men say. Besides Ellipses. He never says anything. To anyone. Ever.

; -----> We look the same everyday. Isn't saying she looks beautiful today kinda stupid? It's kinda like saying the sky is blue today.

! -----> Haha, Semicolon is right. We always do look the same.

& ----> So you're the ever-elusive, legendary Semicolon?

: ----> Legendary? My brother is no legend.

& ----> Well you see him so little people hardly know he exists. I think I've ever hardly been in the same sentence with him or anyone else for that matter. And you all know how easy it is to forget a single sentence. I think the humans have a phobia of him. Maybe he's too cool for 'em? Hehe.

: ----> He's a freak! Look at the comma tail!

& ----> I think the comma tail is cute.

; -----> What?

! ----> Oh, Ampersand, he was too nervous to say it but Semicolon was planning to ask you out on a date.

& ----> I'd love to. He is very mysterious and unused. So few humans use him. Makes him feel forbidden y'know?

: ----> I hate you Exclamation Point.

! ----> I'm just helping out a friend; I got you back for calling me a loser too.



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This work is copyright Langdon Kennedy you may share this(email it, print it, post it on your own website, broadcast it etc.) work unaltered as long as you credit me as the author and share a link to this blog with it and it is not for profit. If you have any questions and/or are unclear of these conditions email me at llkenne1@asu.edu

Today's #Scifi #fantasy short story #TheCodedSouls

“What goes up must come down.”

Superman*

       Today I went to my fun, deliciously nerdy anime club. Today's theme for shows was old cartoons was shows from our childhood. Since there are like 30 people in the club I saw quite the variety of shows. I learned I shared some shows with people, and others I did not. I remembered also how hilariously cheesy kids shows can be. (We were going for like shows we saw when were 8-12 not like toddlers). I also realized how ridiculously long it had been since I had seen the first episode of Pokemon.

       Out of curiosity when I got home I looked at what episode number they're airing for the kids now...#740. And while I'm 21 the protagonist is still 10 mind you. Seems he's an immortal vampire lord or something. Maybe he's sucking the life force out of all the Pokemon he's catching and that's why he's always getting new ones and that Pikachu is the the only one spared because he's bound his immortal soul to it.

The Coded Souls

        Humanity didn't need television or books for entertainment anymore. Those were still made. But now something else existed. My reality. The virtual reality where humanity watched us from above. Or below. Or the sides. Or whatever angle they wanted. Even within our minds.

       I'm a program living inside an infinite plane of existence. And I'm, for a lack of better words, a soul. Right now I'm in limbo. But soon I'll be coded into some sort of being to give it form and emotion. Most likely it'll be human. But if they want a robot with emotion, or a spirit, or dragon, I'll be in it. Whatever will make the most interesting show. The most interesting story. A destiny will be coded into me.

      The destiny won't be specific actions. But instead they'll give me inclinations. A base personality that will be molded by the scenarios that follow after the start of the first scene. It's humans jobs, along with programs, to search through simulated realities to find out which ones had the most interesting stories unfold and present to the people. Millions of worlds and created and millions of coded souls are placed into them.

     I suppose I'm just an actor. I have memories of all my roles as I piggy back on a body...feeding it my emotions. I'm not even part of the virtual brain. Oh, the beings I've been. I've been the serial killers that murder off camera. Though I've had to witness them. I wish they would program those memories out...but they only do if it affects my performances.

     Eventually they do and I only remember having those roles so what do I have to complain about? Right now I just remember having those roles and no details. But I've heard other coded souls in limbo talk about those horrors and so I won't forgive the humans for making me go through that. Erasing the memories won't make me forgive them...so I actually pretend sometimes that they are still there.

    I wonder what the humans think of my performances. It had better be worth making me sentient to my existence.

Today's #Scifi #fantasy short story #TheLonelyWitchInHerRoom

I can has cheezburger?

Oprah Winfrey*

          Been workin' on me books. Fun tidbit... I've already clocked over 200 stories on the blog! These really build up don't they? I think it's been improving my skills.

          Anyway onto the flash fiction!

          The Lonely Witch In Her Room

          There was once a lonely, young witch girl. Everyone in the Village of Mages loved her. But they were all adults and none of them really knew how to play with a young girl. So they would give her gifts of books to compensate for a lack of understanding. Everyone would smile at her...but she couldn't play with anyone. She spent her days alone in her room with her magic cauldron and all her books.

         The girl did have one fortunate circumstance. And that was the fact she was born with incredible cleverness. She decided that if she didn't have friends she would merely make them. So obvious.

         She looked around her room for things to bring to life. The only thing were all those books. So that's what would have to be it. She decided to bring the books to life. Though the girl didn't quite understand the spell she was using. She was using a summoning spell..to summon something from the books. The spell was meant to be used on scrolls with language specifically written for this purpose. She thought the books would be brought to life.

         But instead creatures were summoned from the texts. The effects were strange to say the least. Something intended to be used on a specifically written scroll used instead on some random storybook owned by a little girl? The reactions were chaotic.

         Out of the girl's storybooks came strange things that were combinations of characters in the book. Though by chance some things came through complete. For example out of one book a prince with a dragon head came out with a complete princess. Other storybook characters didn't come out nearly as clean.

         The little witch girl had incredible magical abilities inherited from her bloodline. She had the ability to create powerful beings. From her science books came multi-brained elder gods with writhing tentacles who knew vast seas of knowledge. Sculptures from her art books sprung forth, merged with paintings so that parts of their bodies were partially stuck in the second dimension.

         Out of her history books copies of various individuals came out...no matter how dangerous or heroic. Whether they be they be the generals or the powerful, devout soldiers that followed under them.

         The spell caused space to warp and her room to compensate for all the beings being summoned from the spell and they kept coming and coming. Music books gave her beings that were manifestations of song bound together by magic where pounding sounds tore the air around them with violent notes. When the spell hit her books encyclopedias about nature deities that had the powers of both plants and animals were born and they emerged to the world eager to take hold for their kinds.

         The spell hit every book in her room, space still expanding to compensate for them all. But no matter their personalities or strength they were all created by the spell. And as per the spell there was one rule involving their creation.

          They all had to be her friends.

Today's #Scifi #fantasy flash fiction #TheDuelForTheDragonsBlood

“Every kiss begins with Kay”

Lord of the Rings*

        Today I learned out there was something called a nasal ranger. It's a portable device that detects odors. Why did I find out about such a device? There is a completely logical reason that makes perfect sense in context...but I'm just going to leave that up to your imagination.

Anyway onto the flash fiction!

        The Duel For the Dragon's Blood

         

        “So how many times has it been Merlin? Battle 50 somethin'.” I laughed while the wizard chased me on his pegasus. Did he really think that winged horse could catch up to me in the clouds? This is my domain. After all I am a dragon.

       “You beast! I will have your blood!” The wizard shot lightining from his staff. I admit the thing looked impressive when it glowed. But the lightning merely went straight to my horns atop my head. All my life I thanked my ancestors for evolving those enchanted horns to divert lighting from both storm clouds and pesky wizards. If I didn't have them his little plan to roast my wings may have worked.

       “Y'know I thought a wizard of your caliber would know about our horns.” I then thought for a moment and smiled with my sharp teeth. “Hey didn't you try that last time you chased me in the sky. I like the Pegasus though. Before you've been using griffons and magic carpets.”

         Merlin grew agitated. Just like he did every time. “Stop your banter monster! Every single one of these battles would come to an end if you just let me catch you.”

          “No!” I yelled at him. “You will not jab that thing into my flesh! I will not suffer that kind of pain.”

His face grew red. “How could a dragon be so pathetic? I've been shooting lighting at you and you're afraid of that?”

           I stopped in the air. I wouldn't take him downplaying this. “Lighting is nothing. That thing is sharp.”

           Merlin yelled at me, “It's a shot! It's just a shot!”

          “I hate shots!” I shouted back.

         “It'll only take five seconds!”

         “No!”

        “You baby!”

        “Bully!”

         “We're testing you for demon worms!”

         “I'd rather have them then a shot!”

        “I already told you the reason you're afraid of them is because the last one you had was when you were two. You're grown now. Take your shot! We wouldn't be having this problem if you hadn't eaten that elder demon like I told you not to.”

        “It was going to kill you.”

       “I could have handled it.”

       “It took your staff.”

       “Just take the shot!”

      “Hold on, will I get a lollipop when it's over like when I was two?”

      “Wait what? Oh, yes, yes, you will definietly get a lollipop when it's done you can have as many lollipops as you want when it's done.”

     “Okay I'll get the shot.”

      So after the exchange I got the shot...it wasn't as bad as when I was two...and I got a lollipop! Yay! I think Merlin mentioned something about wanting a dog though. I wouldn't mind another pet around the house.

Author Comment: Here's a fun little tidbit about the evolution of plot writing that can happen, at least with me. Originally this story was going to be about Merlin getting the blood to make an elixir to save his dying son. As you can see this plot is a little bit different.

Today's #Scifi #fantasy flash fiction #TastingForgiveness

“I AM INVINCIBLE!”

Gumby*

Looked at my blog stats and saw Cordell is a search term for this site! I never do anything to promote terms so it looks like the old the Vampiric Talents series of flash fictions from a while ago warranted searching. Nice. (For those who don't know Cordell was the name of the main character of Vampiric Talents)  Glad people liked it. For those who don't remember/want to reread it/haven't read it here's the links to all five stories. It was a week long series of flash fictions I wrote. (Mon-Fri)

http://langdonflashfictions.blogspot.com/2012/08/todays-flash-fiction-vampiric-talents.html

http://langdonflashfictions.blogspot.com/2012/08/vampiric-talents-ep-2-cordell-meets.html

http://langdonflashfictions.blogspot.com/2012/08/vampiric-talents-ep3-cordell-meets.html

http://langdonflashfictions.blogspot.com/2012/08/vampirictalents-episode-4cordell-meets.html

http://langdonflashfictions.blogspot.com/2012/08/today-vampirictalents-ep5.html

Anyway onto today's flash fiction!

Tasting Forgiveness

         Want to know what the most scrumptious, delicious thing in the world is? It's forgiveness. I didn't learn this until I died and went to the afterlife. Yup. I'm a ghost now. I now eat forgiveness day and night. Oh no I don't get rid of it. What happens is I haunt people and when people forgive each other I feed off of it. Well, I kinda lied really. I feed off the power created by forgiveness. When you forgive someone a sort of shift in soul happens even if neither person knows it. And I'm there to eat the power and energy created by that shift of weight in the soul. It's a delicious power filled with a sort of energy like a powerful adrenaline of pure joy and ecstasy. As a ghost I eat the echo in the soul caused by forgiveness. It is positively delicious.

        And to think in the mortal world my favorite food was ice cream.

Today's flash fiction #PaintTheCanvas

“May the force be with you.”

Isaac Newton*

Today I battled one of my inner demons, his name was Fred. I won. Now onto the flash fiction!

Paint the Canvas

      Take a blank canvas. Paint a picture showing happiness. Then love, sadness then war. All with smiles and tears all over. Color in the inevitably of death. Represent wealth, put gold and money in piles all over. Paint books surrounded by gods, deities and spirits of all kinds. Then create an image of a demon for every kind of fear behind them. And further behind them put a small white dot like a distant star for each kind of hope against them. Surround it all with the backdrop of a planet filled with some wondrous nature. Title the painting humanity and put the brush down.

Author Comment: Y'know how stories are supposed come in the first second or third person...? Not sure exactly where this falls, second I guess since it's the imperative tense with a you subject implied...? I did do the imperative sentence thing on purpose as an experiment. 

Today's short story #PlayingGod

"Why can't we all just get along?"
Joan Rivers*


Today I did mysterious things...dastardly things...I also had difficulty coming up with a good enough story for everyone so I pulled an old story out from way back when another backup. This is completely unaltered from it's original 2009 form.

Playing God

         I came in my room battered and beaten psychologically. A test in all my classes, one right after the other, pulled my brain into knots. I placed my apple shaped black backpack on the floor as I stumbled into bed. I picked up the teddy bear my mother had given me when I was three, no matter how old I became I would never throw him away.

        “Do you think Jake needs a brain break?” I asked my teddy.

           “Of course Jake!” I made the teddy say in a silly voice I had made up for him at the age of five.

            “Well, Teddy, how about some videogames? Those are good for brain breaks aren’t they?” I smiled as I addressed my worn toy.

          “Yes they are! What better way is there to relax? You gotta go play one now!” he said to me with the same happy expression he always has.

            “If you insist…” I said, knowing how stubborn Teddy can be. But as always, I knew he had my best interests at heart. He’s wiser then anyone I’ve ever known. I set Teddy down on the bed facing the T.V. so he could watch. I powered on the television and the game console one right after the other. They both said hello to me in the hums and whirs they make as they turn on. I grabbed my controller and became quite eager to play. I laughed at myself when I noticed I had not put a game in the console. I decided to play one of my most favorite games today, “God”

           An image of Earth appeared on the screen, the clouds wrapping around the Earth like a jacket. The “Push Start” prompt appeared above the Earth flashing with a steady rhythm. After taking a look at all the fine details of the planet, I decided to start the game.

            The game had been designed quite brilliantly, I could zoom in to anything on the planet, change anything and everything about it, with only a few buttons. Even though it was only a game, I still felt a rush of power flow from the controller through my body.

         The Earth was a clock, and all its gears moved naturally without my influence. The animals grazed and hunted while the trees grew towards the clouds grabbing for the falling water. People went to and from work, sighing in unison hoping the hours ticked by a little faster for them. Whether they wanted to go home to eat dinner with the family or fall asleep on the couch, the workers of the world grew impatient of labor eventually.

           This cycle became boring to me after watching it for only five minutes. And I was even fast-forwarding through months at a time. I decided to stop waiting for my entertainment something needed to be done. This mundane loop would bore me no longer. I opened up the natural disaster menu and created a few tornadoes and quakes to mix things up. The aftermath of my mischief was quite entertaining.

           I saw people cry as friends and families died in the chaos. One man I zoomed in on was standing next to his own crippled daughter who had been half flattened by a falling building. Another man, much less pitiful, cursed the Earth for destroying his entire lively hood in one fell swoop, his house had collapsed upon itself, destroying everything he owned in a seconds. On the flip side of all the sadness, an ecstatic couple ran to each other thanking God that their loved one had escaped intact. They kissed and hugged, relieved that they were now in each other’s arms and could be forever afterwards. This kind of sappy stuff annoyed me, so I selected one of them and made him die of a heart attack.

              Perhaps I was too hard I them I thought. So after swallowing a good chunk of guilt, I rewound my work a little, reviving him. That little good deed of mine gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside, so I decided to lay off the chaos for a bit. Perhaps after I’m done being a saint I’d go back to my shenanigans and start few nuclear wars.

          I had the idea of being more detail oriented this time. After all, it could be much more fun to control one person’s life specifically rather than doing something sweeping like solving world hunger. I took a glance at Teddy on my bed, as usual he smiled, and I knew he must have been enjoying the show.

The man I turned my attention was perhaps the one of the most useless people on the planet. Poor, stupid, ugly and without any talents or skills, the only thing he really had was his kindness. He had no friends or family left on this Earth, I wondered if I killed them in one of my previous deeds.

           I had a cute little plan for him. I set up a mugging on his usual route home from his low paying job. From afar he saw a woman being attacked by a man at least three times her size and double his. I gave him courage he never had so that he would spring in to save the day. I rigged the fight in his advantage; I didn’t want my toy being killed. But I made sure my hero got shot in the arm by the criminal. The girl called both the police and the paramedics, the bad guy was caught and the good guy came out alive.

The reason I had made him get shot and live is because I needed to make him a noble hero who took a bullet to help someone. I had made the girl come from a very rich family, so she paid for all of his surgeries and his prosthetic limb. His noble sacrifice made her fall in love with them and it wasn’t long before they were married and lived happily ever after.

            I put down the controller and picked up Teddy again, “So Teddy, what do you think of what I’ve done this time around?”

           I made Teddy speak in his lovable voice again, “A large amount of chaos with a little sweet story mixed in, the perfect recipe for a great game session!”

       “Wait,” I interrupted Teddy, “There’s something else I have to do.”

        “What’s that?” Teddy asked in a confused voice.

        “I have to get a high score.”

       Ah, the high score. Someone called the “God of all Gods” had set the unbeatable high score. The Godlier the deeds you did, the higher score you got. That God scored upwards the trillions. Most players would be dumbstruck just by the very idea of someone honestly attempting to top that score. I wondered what they’re reaction would be once I beat it.

         I put the controller down and popped my knuckles. Then I got a drink of water and downed a sandwich. I had to be perfectly prepared for this. I wiped some sweat off my brow and began my game once more.

           I controlled every aspect of human history and life. Everything acted according to my will. I caused all war and death, as well as life and love. I got bored with humans and wiped them out with another ice age, soon after sculpting a new dominate race by messing around with evolution. Even though I had given them bat wings and three heads, I got bored with them too. A few thousand meteors took care of them. With all my Godly deeds I became within only a hundred points under the current high score.

             But my heart sank as I saw a new user log into my game. I saw the user name of the player: superGoddude1224. That was the user name of the current holder of the high score. Within moments he caught up to me then beat his previous score by three times the original amount. I put the controller down and gave up.

         “Giving up that easily?” a voice I never knew came from what seemed to be all around me.

         “Where are you? Who are you?” I panicked and looked over at Teddy, hoping that he could tell me who had invaded my home.

       “I’m superGoddude1224. Though really I’m just plain old God,” the voice boomed through my body and soul.

         “What?” I didn’t quite understand what was going on.

           “Don’t worry, you’re not the first person I talked to who became flabbergasted when I said hello. Sometimes you mortals are really cute, trying to beat me in my own game. Why are you guys such control freaks? Well, I won’t stop you from playing your games, so if you want to try doing my job again, go ahead, but no mortal really has what it takes to be God. You’re welcome to try again Jake, but don’t think for a second you’re a better God than me.” The voice faded away, leaving the room eerily quiet.

           “Teddy, I don’t think I should play this game again.” I then took the disc out of the console and turned off the game. I threw the disc away because now I knew my place in the universe.

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Come up with your own quote a days? Email them to me at llkenne1@asu.edu and I may put them on the blog. If you want I will credit you for finding them!