Today's #flashfiction #TheWorldBeyondTheCage

“Make love, not war.”

Genghis Khan* #quote

Today I communicated with the spirits. They told me we should stop calling. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The World Beyond The Cage

        A linage of a rare species of rat lived in a zoo. Their striped fur had a beautiful mix of sky-blue and cloud-white spots made their species be nicknamed the the Sky Rats.

        Fluffy, the youngest, with the most rigid tail and biggest eyes of all kids asked his parents, “What's the outside of the walls like? Beyond the rooms and the zoo?”

        His parents looked at each other. The father honestly replied, “We don't know son. Our family has lived here for generations. Some of the walls outside the cage have pictures.”

        A mother of a different family living in the same cage added, “Those pictures do look amazing. I often stare at them when I nest on the tree in our cage.” One trait of the Sky Rat species is that different families blended with each other and shared territory instead of fighting over it. Unusual considering many animals fight with others of the same species for territory.

       Fangs, one of the eldest children proclaimed, “I'd love to explore that world.”

A zoo keeper then opened the cage. The rats gathered as often she would give them food. But at this moment she was adding two four rats. A mother, father, and their two sons. Because of the fact that Sky  Rats bring others into their groups easily the zoo figured the wild ones would be able to mix with the ones bred in captivity. At least, that was the experiment.

Fluffy then yelled, “They, they're from the outside.”

      The four rats scrambled into the cage and began muttering. “Where are we? Where's the nest? Where's the nest? Where's the nest? Are there holes to hide in?” They looked up panicked. “Hawks! Hawks! Look for hawks! You, you, you all have nests! Right? Let us join you! We must hide from the hawks.”

     Fluffy then looked at his family and the others native to the cage and said to them, “Maybe we shouldn't go outside the cage.”

Today's #flashfiction #TheMadScientistPrankWar

“Buzz off!”

Flight of the Bumblebee(Chorus)* #quote

       Today I met the muffin man so now I know the muffin man so don't ask me if I know the muffin man. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Mad Scientist Prank War

         Two mad scientists Doctor Mutation and Doctor Dimension were in a prank war. For years they would try to outdo each other on April Fools. Last year Doctor Mutation even went so far as to make a mindless clone of one of Doctor Dimension's loved ones. Though Doctor Dimension was shocked he was not fooled as it was expected. Over the many years the pranks got more elaborate, with hallucinogenics and freeze rays fired at each others labs. But due to them knowing it was April Fools defenses to the pranks were created.

         But Doctor Dimension worked hard to circumvent this. He created a time machine. Being a mad scientist he didn't make it to change the world, he just wanted to catch Doctor Mutation off guard. There was a truce never to prank outside of the date of April Fools. But he would simply, from months before, put an unknowing rival into the time machine and prank him!

        He invited his rival, and friend, over to dinner. As truly that's what they were. Mad scientists could manage something like a monstrously evil prank war and still maintain a peaceful friendship. The elevator up to his dining room was replaced with the time machine(which he adjusted into an elevator all so they would arrive in the dining room on April Fools).

       Doctor Dimension turned to his rival and laughed, “April Fools!” He pulled out a gun that shot a purple fluid that would stick to anyone then make them stink for weeks. But suddenly a force field surrounded Doctor Mutation. Somehow he expected it.

       “Remember no pranks outside of April Fools.” He smiled.

       Doctor Dimension responded, “But I built a time machine.”

       “Actually, that was my prank. I've sent robots that I've personally piloted to alter the clocks around your house and lab for the years you've been testing that machine to make you think you built a time machine.”

        “All that work...”

         Doctor Mutation laughed a good laugh, something atypical of a mad scientist. “It took me a lot of time too y'know. Let's stop this prank war. We should be terrorizing the populace, not our fellow mad scientists!”

Doctor Dimension smiled. “You're right. Wanna help me built a death ray?”

Mutation nodded. “Of course friend.”

Today's #flashfiction #TheSchoolGhost

“Remember to look both ways before crossing the street.”

Confucius* #quote

         Today I went to my card game tournament. Didn't do good, but I had fun, and I learned how to improve the deck I'm using and in general. Anyway onto the flash fiction.

The School Ghost

       I wish I could complete school. I think I'm thirty now technically. But I died in the sixth grade. I've been wandering the school halls ever since I died in a fire. Over time I figured out I can't get more than a certain distance away from the desk that once had my name tag on it, “Hanna Graygrass”.

       My school is a joint grade to high school. I've watched enough classes as a ghost to graduate I think, and I mentally take tests. I wish the ethereal body I have could touch things. But at least it's a body. It looks like a marionette made of fog with my head on top. I still have my blue eyes, and blonde hair, but they're as foggy as the rest of my body, along with all my other features. Unless I look close it mostly just looks white.

      I've seen people come and go, teachers and staff. Seen some stay as long as I've been there. I know all the gossip. But it's become maddening to be unable to talk to anyone. I even try to simulate talking to people by reading out people's tests as they take them so its like they're answering me, or copying the teacher so its like the students are talking to me. I would do anything for some company.

It did all give me the ability to make snide remarks during a teacher's class. I could even shout it out as obnoxiously as I want. With all the stress I would get from the loneliness I would do this more often then I should.

      Sarcasm, snide remarks, years and years went by. My ghostly body would be the same, and the same face. Eventually though, something surprising happened. One tired teacher, who seemed to be running on just coffee said to the crowd of students, “Who said that?” At that time I was the only that talked. The students looked at him oddly. “Well?” He continued.

It took me a second to realize that he heard me.

        I replied, “None of your students are talking. It's me a ghost!” I shouted even louder than before.

The coffee ran science teacher, a man of doubt, and probably a serious temper did not like that response. I knew him well as I did all the teachers. He was Mr. Redburg, and I'd never seen him drink coffee before so something really stressful must have kept him up last night.

He looked like he was about to shout but he looked at all his students again and did see that none of them were talking. I knew many teachers watched all their students like they had eyes all over their head. He turned around and wrote something on the board where none of the students could see and continued his lecture. I floated around next to him and saw what it said.

       “Prove it, say 'white knight castle'.”

         A test. Since none of the students could see it that means if I could then I would prove my existence.

“White knight castle!” I yelled.

        The teacher looked shocked. He looked to where my voice had come from and said, “Speak to me after class.”

         I waited eagerly, time nearly coming to a stand still from my perspective, and I spoke to him. After class I started to tell him a bit about me, but he cut me off. He immediately wanted to know why he could hear me and no one else. I didn't know. We discussed various things, starting in spirituality, but then we went more scientific. He discussed how he took a tour in Iraq and almost got killed from an explosion and they had to put a metal plate into his head along with him having him getting his ears a little damaged from the explosion. This was the only major hearing difference between him and the other people on campus.

We talked more throughout the day, I wondered why this was the first day he could hear me. But then we gave up talking about that I just wanted to talk normally and about myself to relieve my loneliness. The next day though he couldn't hear me, and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next. I became depressed very quickly.

          But on the Friday of that week he brought a cup of coffee and drank it he could hear me again.

          “Amazing what a little cup can do,” He said to me. “I wonder if I can talk to because of the plate in the brain I got, or if the fact that the coffee shop I get this from is a little ma and pop shop with a very peculiar family running it.”

Today's #flashfiction #ItsMyPlanetToConquer

“Who's on first?”

Babe Ruth* #quote

        Today CJ should be coming over, yay! Hopefully we manage to figure out how much wood a woodchuck would chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

It's My Planet To Conquer

        “Alright alien scum. Get off this planet, because the only one allowed to conquer it is me,” Doctor Omens said to the alien king who sat on his throne in his mother ship with the Prime Minister of Britain in a cage at his side. Besides the Doctor's bold statement it also shocked the alien king that Omens stood in front of him.

       “How did you get into my ship?” The big slime-ball rumbled, his voice coming from the vibrations of his blob body. The three square heads at the top of his body looked at him curiously and angrily with their six eyes a-piece. Six arms, three on each side, with two hands each, manipulated controls on his throne. Those controls worked the mother ship and many other things.

      “Teleportation. Simple really. If only the government would hire supervillains like me to fight you wouldn't have gotten this far.”

       The tone in the king's voice grew madder. “Do not call it simple, we have technology to block teleportation onto our mothership.”

        Doctor Omens laughed. “Right, technology.” The king didn't look too hard at Omens or know enough about his appearance to figure it all out. Doctor Omens had an unnaturally large head infused with electronics a robotics. One half of his head was a glass dome revealing his brain, as the other was the mechanical parts with steel and computers. But the alien didn't know that the blue robes the doctor wore mean something special. Doctor Omens was not only a scientist, but a wizard. “Well sluggy boy, my technology is mixed with magic so all your fancy tech isn't very good at countering it.”

       The alien king then started shouting orders. “Aftrak graaggg tookkkk tok tok gat!”

Out of the floor robot spheres appeared with guns. The supervillain didn't even attempt to fight them. He simply jumped up to the king and made the king in the line of fire.

       “Roor, rot!” the king shouted in response. The spheres vanished.

        “Good job blobby. I like how you kidnapped every leader in the world you could, then picked one randomly to be in. Or maybe you decided to be with the British one since you like tea.”

        “Stupid human!” The villain then sunk into the blob body of the alien up into the waist. “Now you'll feel the acid of my 'blobby' body. Don't bother struggling, as long as I live I'll keep a shape to trap you, like your planet's quicksand but worse!”

        The villain let out an evil laugh, one that shook the room and the viscous surface of the alien. “So how'd you research to invade us? Look at our armies and superheroes? Decide those were the only defenders? I bet you thought the armies would be easy and the superheroes to kind, exploitable or you researched them. Well, I'm merciless and so are the other villains, nothing will stop us or make us hesitate. That's what your successor will learn. You'd trap me as long as you'd live you say?”

       With his still free arms and hands the villain grabbed a gun hidden in his robes and shot the alien's three heads over and over until he was absolutely sure he was dead. The villain laughed and teleported out with the Prime Minister of Britain, maybe when this was all over the Doctor figured he could use him as a hostage for an evil plan.

Today's #flashfiction #LastSecondLottery

“Call me!”

Romeo* #quote

          Today I arranged for CJ to come over this weekend. Much fun shall be had! A pokemon card tournament shall be held this Sunday. Wish me luck, CJ shall be participating as well.

Last Second Lottery

         Fredrick won the lottery at a nice age of 85. He always bought ten tickets as a tradition ever since he could gamble and lost all those years. His father was a gambling addict and Fredrick told him that if his Dad would stop gambling alone they would do this together every year. The father's compulsive want for the rush of gambling was satisfied by waiting every year for the lottery(to his addiction it didn't care if he won or lost, only the anticipation satisfied him.) After his father's death Fredrick simply kept on the tradition as a sort of dedication to his old man.

         And it paid off. But unfortunately at the time Fredrick already only had a year or two to live according to his doctors. So where would the money go. The first impulse would be to pass it down to family or send it off to charity.

       But he had no family left at that old age, he married, but no children, and his wife passed several years back. He thought about charities and where he would send it, but then it entered his mind as to what his dad would do with the money. He remembered a long time ago when he asked him,

        “What would you want to do with the money if we won?”

        “Why, I'd do something crazy or big with my share,” he told Fredrick. “I can make a living on my own. When you have that kind of money you have the opportunity to do something crazy or big to be remembered.”

        Fredrick thought about his father's words and came to a decision. He would do something crazy. Crazy enough for his father to appreciate. His money did go to charity... almost. He contributed it all to N.A.S.A. in exchange for one thing. That his ashes be sent into space. It didn't matter where they went, as long as they didn't fall back to Earth. He preffered they be sent into the Sun, but if they decided they just wanted to release him to drift off somewhere that was fine too. He won a grand enough lottery that this was done and N.A.S.A. had money left over. In cosmic hindsight though, what Fredrick's father meant by “crazy” was blowing the money to buy some really fancy art like authentic Picasso and drawing on them.

Today's #flashfiction #AliensLoveTheHolidays

“I'm Batman”

What's My Line* #quote

       Today I ventured deep into a cave and found hidden treasure. I didn't bring any sand to swap out for the ancient treasure. (I needed to so the trap wouldn't activate.) That was a bummer because without the sand I just had to leave the treasure behind. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Aliens Love The Holidays

        When humanity finally found ways to travel the stars and meet sentient life on other planets they brought all aspects of their culture and life with them. Some things caught on, some things didn't. Holidays really caught on with alien cultures as reasons to buy things(and sell things) and party were wonderful. Aliens celebrated Christmas and Hanukkah, they were both reasons to party and buy each other things. (And when you can buy each other things you can hit on girls right?) Jewish people did get offended when they found out that the primary reason that the Afgordians were celebrating Hanukkah was for a time of dating. Often aliens all across the galaxy didn't even know where the holiday came from.

       “This is not what Santa looks like!” the eight eyed alien corporate boss shouted to his human employee. “If we're going to sell shirts to to the Floogs we're going to get it right! I'd think that a human like you would know what he looks like!” The boss flung the tentacles on his torso around like an angry football coach would pump his fist. He frantically moved the feet of his spider-like bottom in frustration.

The human shuddered. “But Mr. Gloff, I'm native to this colony, I've never even been to Earth. I don't even know what's wrong with it.”

       “Don't even know what's wrong with it? He's skinny! Santa is not skinny. He's fat, friendly and kind. I'd think the man we hired to be the graphic designer on our shirts would at least look at reference material instead of just winging it based off memory! Fortunately this hasn't been sent to manufacture.”

The employee hung his head low. “Actually, it has.”

       “What!?” Mr. Gloff started running as fast as he could. The feet of his arachnid bottom carried him across the floor in a flash, mostly due to panic. “Stop production!” He yelled to the employees working the machines creating the shirts. “I'm...going to get fired for this aren't I? There are thousands of these...”

Mr. Gloff's boss stood behind him, “Maybe, if you can't come up with a solution.” Gloff turned around. He hoped he could.

      Later the shirts managed to sell after the designer and Mr. Gloff put their heads together and made a deal with a few bakeries. The shirts sold at the bakeries under a sign that read, “Don't Forget to get Santa Cookies!” Sales didn't break the charts, but both the bakeries and them managed to turn a good profit. Maybe the shirts will be made next year, but the company may go with making Hanukkah products.

Today's #flashfiction #ToEarthFromMars

“Turn the other cheek.”

Two-Face, The Dark Knight* #quote

       Well, played with my Christmas gifts as one would during Christmas. I'd like to thank Grandpa and Grandma Nolan for the card they sent me! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

To Earth, From Mars

         A giant Christmas present (wrapped of course) the size of a building suddenly fell from the sky in front of the White House. On it was a giant tag labeled “To Earth, From Mars”. The wrapping paper was covered with candy canes and snowflakes. Every sane person stayed inside the white house while the politicians exited the building in wonder.

        A bluish-white fog appeared around the bottom of the present and a robot appeared. It walked on eight legs like a spider while having two long, mechanical tentacle-like arms that ended in hands with seven steel fingers. The cameras, speakers, microphones and other hardware and software that served as its senses and give it the ability to speak did not exist on any part of its body. Instead they were all on numerous little satellites that floated around the robot.

        The satellites talking all at once gave the robot's voice a boom as well as the eeriee property of sounding like an instant echo. “After long study of you humans, the martians have decided to make contact. I am no martian, merely a servant robot to carry out their will. And their will is to give you this peace offering as a sign of good will. They chose Christmas as an appropriate way to contact this nation. The other nations will be receiving sign of goodwill soon. They martians hope you enjoy their gift, they spent a long time determining what Christmas gift to give.”

         The robot turned to the package and ripped off the paper in one motion, he simply knew exactly where to tear and how. Under the paper was a glass case full of clothing. Very practical clothing and lots of sweaters of the usual kind that are given by family at Christmas.

The politicians outside the White House smiled as they hoped they wouldn't get clothes every year.

Today's #flashfiction #TheStoneAgeArtCritic

“I'm afraid of heights.”

Spiderman* #quote

We had our Christmas dinner today, with extended family and all. (We normally do our familial dinner during Christmas day, but sometimes it can switch to Eve as well.) We also exchange gifts etc. Brother came over earlier in the day so the whole day was filled. Anyway, onto the flash fiction, the bustling buisiness forced me to do another re-run from the way-back-when of the blog archives, but I think you'll enjoy the read.

The Stone Age Art Critic

        Of all my touring of caves this has been my most disappointing art show. The disappointment was enhanced by the fact that so many people talked the artist Uug's rendition's of the bison hunt. But really it was nothing special. This “red paint” gimmick to show blood is just a fad. Red paint will never catch on. And so many people showing off hand tracings. How foolish. I enjoyed the the uses of blue and yellows in abstract patterns. Blue and yellow and browns for animal fur are really the colors that should be used in painting. After looking at the cave for what seemed like a year I started to feel dead. But then I saw a marvelous piece of art in the corner. And like with the other pieces the artist stood next to it. I walked up to the artist immediately.

         “Did you create this little girl?” I asked the artist.

         “Yes I did Mr. Ruk.” She responded. Because of my status as an art critic I was introduced as soon as I entered the cave. I doubt the little girl would have known who I was otherwise.

         “It is amazing little girl, you're parents should be proud. What do you call it?” I really couldn't say much more because of my amazement.

         “A stick figure,” she told me.

          A perfect name! A perfect name for a perfect creation! This piece of art captures the human form wonderfully and in such simplicity and beautiful form. It makes the hand tracing so outdated. It's the most elegant mix between the abstract and the real. It will also save paint so that so many more pictures may be made. And since she could make it so many other children may. More artists will be groomed and be able to make paintings. I predict that stick figures is what the common people will draw when they cannot create sophisticated art their own. But it will be some of the first pieces of the greats of the future. The stick figure will be the foundation of all future art.

       I have found the perfect painting.

Today's #flashfiction #TheOneWhoNeverGetsAPresent

“Live free or die hard.”

Benjamin Franklin* #quote

Today family and did the last bit of house cleaning for all of Christmas whew! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The One Who Never Gets A Present

          “Maybe if I was Jewish I would get a present,” Santa mumbled to himself. The elves are presents. And the cookies from children aren't much of a gift either. The elves are employees who really don't care much for him to know anything beyond getting him a new red hat. Mrs. Claus gives him those hats, coats and wonderful meals anyway all through the year. Her “present” every year is a healthy meal to go with all those cookies he could eat through the night.

         Although the biggest problem is that Santa could never get a present like he would give. The biggest misconception is that Santa's Elves makes the gifts. His elves make Christmas magic for all the gifts that Santa puts on all gifts Christmas night. If the gift is a worthy gift the child will be filled with even more love for it than they would on any other day. Each holiday of giving has a being for this, he lamented that if he could be Jewish then he could receive gift magic during Hanukkah. Being Santa he could never get gift magic given to him.

        Santa did his work on Christmas, and a few days after a very curious thing happened. A package arrived at his door. This was a rare, rare occurrence. He looked at it and saw a package labeled “From Santa” then under that, “Return to Sender”. Apparently this was how someone managed to mail something to him.

        Inside the package was a massive book titled “Nearly A Million Puzzles To Fill Your Time” and a note.

“Santa, I loved this book you gave me last year. I never wrote any of the answers inside to keep it like new, Dad told me to do that when I first got it. I thought that since nobody probably ever got you any presents besides Mrs. Claus or whoever lives in the North Pole I thought you should have this.”

        Santa smiled. He could feel the gift magic coming from the book. The child, even though not being one of the gift giving spirits, managed to impart some magic onto it.

        Old Saint Nick did every puzzle with joy.

Today's #flashfiction #CurrencyOfTheGods

“And this little piggy went home.”

Dave Anderson, founder of Famous Dave's BBQ* #quote

       Today I went to another card game thing, but a shorter one, the weekly thing, not a big ol' tournament. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Currency Of The Gods

        My name's a bit unpronounceable in the languages of the people of the mortal worlds. But a few of the names I go by when I manifest in those realms are Akira, Danny, and Gonzales. You can call me by one of those names. Really, I have names for everywhere, but I don't feel like saying them all.

       I'm a merchant of sorts. A merchant for the gods. And I'd like to make a deal with you. Now, I don't care about your money or any of your possessions like your car or house or TV or whatever you have. We gods can conjure up that kind of stuff anytime we please. Beings like us have a different currency.

        You know all those ideas, emotions and other thoughts that swirl around in your mind. And the life you experience? That's what I'm interested in. The things we gods can't conjure are those instances of the soul. We watch mortals from our realms and follow their lives and bond to their minds to experience as they do. Entertainment in its finest form. Like a movie but better.

        So live a life worth following and I'll offer you a wonderful deal. Free luck and blessings from the gods! Your chances of winning that next raffle will skyrocket! Just fill your mind with happiness, joy, passion, ideas, and live life with a vigor and we'll follow you like one of those social networking sites. Really, after all the eternities of living, we offer bargains like this for you with ease. Keep on living human.

      P.S. The gods take no legal responsibility for the results of your rewarded luck and would remind you that supernatural occurrence of their monitoring and rewarding fall outside of mortal law so no lawsuits may be brought upon the gods or any related parties, be they immortal or mortal.

Today's #flashfiction #ReviewingTheAdventuringLog

“I always wanted to be a rock star. That was my childhood dream. That's what I told everybody I was going to be when I grew up.”

-Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart *

       Well, I went to a card game tournament today. I had lots of fun today, and even won a prize in the raffle! (People get in the raffle for just entering the tournament). It went on from 10:45 to 6:00-ish so I'm pretty bushed. I pretty much had to head home to eat dinner. (The place was also a thirty minutes from home). I'm gonna have to give y'all a rerun of one of my favorites from past old days since I've pretty much got Pokemon tourney induced writer's block. (Am I seeing Pikachus?) It's from awhile back so I doubt you'll remember it. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Reviewing The Adventuring Log

       I'm seventy four and I just finished reading my adventuring log. I am, or rather was, a knight who led an adventuring party through many quests throughout all the kingdoms, queendoms, lands and a few other dimensions and alternate universes we ran across. Took a jaunt in the underworld to defeat a demon who stole the soul of one of our party members too.

      I suppose I call it a log to make it sound much more formal, but really its a journal, and even a dairy. I guess that makes me sound less like a manly adventuring knight. Well, to compensate for that I'll say that I have slayed many dragons. I record everything in it. From monetary transactions to feelings, and being a magical item it has infinite space in it to write containing my entire long adventuring career. And I'm easily able to summon up any page I want. I can hold up the back of the book and take pictures by running my finger down the spine. I'm obsessed with taking pictures with my log and I have at least fifty pictures from every one of my quests.

         My adventuring party first consisted of me of course, one of the most skilled knights in the land. I have a magical blade with the ability to see my enemies thoughts. It would give me visions when it decided to and all would come in images in my mind drawn by crayon. I never admitted it anyone outside my party out of pride(and that after I trusted them) but it was actually the lost toy of a young god. I told everyone else they came in “fuzzy images”. My skills with my sword are extraordinary and I have never been defeated in a fight. But I have gotten in draws. Once with the great demon king Kuut and one with...my pride doesn't like me to admit this...my own little daughter Trista. Guess I trained her well.

         Second was the young ogre girl Jess. Well, young when we started adventuring of course. Being an ogre she was three times my size. Oh, don't follow the ogre stereotype of them being ugly and crude. She came from a proper area with a very proper upbringing. I swear half of our cart was full of her makeup and dresses. She was skinny too. And boy did she eat, at least proportionally to us. Our delicate green gal would have to sit outside the human inns but her massive body didn't even let out the littlest bit of a snore.

And then there was our wizard Turing. Not the most sophisticated type. But he was good at magic. Very reliable. But trust me half the time he was uttering magical curses then the curses of sailors. He would also cast healing spells a lot. On himself.

           My wife is next on the list but we didn't marry till the end of our adventuring days. You only really have the time for off and on romantic conflict and sexual tension while adventuring it seems. Her ability is that she was born with the power to predict things that aren't going to happen. You might think that would be a useless talent, but trust me, process of elimination anyone? However the ability is a curse set by a spiteful witch so she actually blurts it out causing social difficulties. We all adapted to it.

        And last there is our lovable comedic relief. She kept us insane and happy at the same time. She is a hyperactive ninja that frequently hops around and has a magic bag of infinite ninja tricks she can pull whatever she wants out of. She makes many happy giddy sounds and is just a barrel of insane laughs. She's smart in someways but isn't the brightest and her plans are odd and she's never subtle. How could someone be a sneaky ninja, especially since she actually wears a black suit with white text on it that says “I'm a sneaky ninja!” she distracts people by causing havoc somewhere and either allows us to sneak by or sneaks by herself. Fire or stampeding animals are her personal favorites though we really try to keep her under control.

        I'd tell you my adventures but really that isn't what mattered. It was them. Those people, my fellow adventurers are what mattered. So whatever we did, whatever. The thing I loved about adventuring wasn't the excitement of peril or the treasure or the glory. It was the people I spent it with. And I bet the same applies with your lives, even if yours is probably much more mundane than mine.

Today's #flashfiction #MechanicalConviction

“It's hammer time!”

Bob the Builder* #quote

Today CJ's hanging out. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Mechanical Conviction

          The worst part about being a robot is your conviction. When you set out to do something, execute it, you follow it through. We don't hesitate, doubt, or any of those things. Unless I just break down, I will finish what I've been programmed to do. Even the most “sentient” of machines like me with the most sophisticated of robotic brains still, at the core, execute programs until completion.

         And as I've walked this desolate land, I've been attempting to finish one single order. My humanoid robot body showing damage. My head had a face with the ability to show expressions so I can comfortably interact with those around me, but now it the skin had a few tears so any emotions I tried would come across through tearing skin. From the neck down they didn't give me skin, but a smooth, metallic surface, that didn't look creepy, but made sure that despite my human head, everyone knew I was a machine. And that part of my body was wearing down. While executing my current task I worked to repair it and recharge it so I could keep going, but each time my condition became worse. I was not a professional and all my attempts at repair were sloppy.

        My task was so simple. Deliver a message to the C.E.O. for the company I worked for above. I was his secretary. But a bomb hit the building. And soon bombs hit nearly every building in the city. And nukes started hitting various cities in the country. A war broke out. But I couldn't do much else until I finished my order. That's just how we work. And until I had undeniable confirmation the C.E.O. was dead I couldn't stop in my conviction to execute my task.

        As I felt my mechanical legs wear away at themselves I wished I had the human ability to give up.

Today's #flashfiction #ItFrozeOver

“You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours.”

Edward Scissorhands* #quote

        Today CJ should be coming over. It is great that he can come over during the week because he's saved up his sick days and vacation days, and since they don't roll over he's pretty much got till next year off from work. It will be a joyous occasion when he arrives and a great deal of fun will be had. Hopefully the fun won't reach so much of an intensity that it creates a singularity of funness that will form a black hole and kill us all. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

It Froze Over

       The demons wore heavy, warm coats. Firewood was shipped in. Heaters ordered from Heaven and other spiritual planes. The devil decided that burning should be the punishment for murderers and those who did the most unspeakable of crimes because it was so cold.

       Next pigs might start flying because the place under fluffy cloud heaven now resembled Antarctica.

        “Why is it so cold!? Why? Why? Why?” Satan paced around the room in three layers of innocent, baby-animal, fur coats. “There's an order to these things! I manage this place now. I should find a way to file a complaint to God to fix this.”

        The devil's secretary answered, “He should already know. And already knows how its going to be fixed, when its going to be fixed, if its going to be fixed. He's just not going to do anything because well, you're Satan.”

         Satan, the fallen angel, glared at his demon secretary, and she just looked back to him bored. She was used to his anger and simply walking him through it.

         “Just find a way to fix it.” She told him. “What kept our wonderful little home warm?”

Satan then mumbled, “I don't know...”

         “What?” The secretary asked. This wasn't the first time her boss mumbled an answer so she couldn't hear it.

         “I don't know! I was sent here when I went against God! I didn't make it!”

         “Then who would know?”

          The devil thought for a moment, then frowned. “There's Hrafgl.”

         The secretary responded, “The demon that's so old that nobody even knows how old he is? Even him? The one that sits in the rocking chair and reads or watches TV? That we have no idea what is job is?”

         “Yeah...he's been here so long that he was here before me.”

          The secretary wasn't shocked by a lot, but she still had that boggled expression on her face. “I thought you were the only living being in hell that old. Even are oldest demons aren't as old as you. They've passed while your being banished here let you live eternal since you're bound to here.”

         “Well, he's got a bond to here as great as mine.”

        The secretary shrugged, “Well you've got no choice but to talk to him, even if he is a bit of a kooky old man.”

         Satan searched through hell and found the old man reading a book as usual, with a coat on. He then spoke to him nervously.

        “Um, boss?”

        “Oh, Satan!” replied old Hrafgl, “How's my assistant manager doing? After God banished you down here life has been easier with you around to handle the day-to-day. Lemme guess, still haven't told anyone I'm the real boss?”

        “No sir...”

        “Heh, makes my life easier. I swear why would God let you be the boss of anything Fallen Angel? An eternity of middle management fits someone with ambitions to overtake everything.”

         Satan wanted the conversation to end as quickly as possible. “Anyway Sir, there's been a problem, it seems everything has frozen over.”

         “Ah, I was so into my book I just grabbed my coat and went back to reading. Guess I must have forgotten to feed the hamsters while reading.”

Satan replied with a look of confusion, “Hamsters?”

         Boss Hrafgl shook his head and groaned. “You think I don't do anything anymore? The demon hamsters that power the equipment that runs hell. Like the heater. This place is old so it uses beasts of burden for energy. We feed giant, immortal demon hamsters and they run in wheels at mach speeds to power everything. Yeah, apparently God decided to use electricity and hamsters. I don't question it, I just do my job. I guess there's another thing I have to teach you to run.”

       And so Satan learned something else about his occupation and the place downstairs became warm once again.

Today's #flashfiction #TheChildrenWithinTheDream

“Don't put all your eggs in one basket!”

The Easter Bunny* #quote

        Tomorrow CJ should be coming over, and he'll be staying until a card game tournament we'll be going to on Saturday. Maybe we'll face each other maybe we won't, we'll see how the pairings go. Also, regarding the card game I managed to make a digital copy of my deck on online Pokemon trading card game and I'm winning a lot with it, so I'm feeling pretty confident.

      Also today's story is about myself, and is both a flash non-fiction, but also a flash fiction, if you consider it fiction for being from the world of my dreams.

The Children Within The Dream

       In the waking world I've worked with kids during my internship to become a teacher. And in a dream I did it again. These students weren't science students like the ones in real life, at least from the project I was helping them on.

       In the room my subconscious conjured up the students sat around a table working on a comic books for some project. I walked around like the room like I did in real life and helped the students. The students were happy, kind and worked away as I assisted. I can't remember the specifics of the comic book project, I remember something about them writing in a foreign language, which I don't speak any...so my brain must have convinced myself I could speak and help them anyway.

        Things did not always stay so cheery. As it often does I became aware I was in a dream. I believe it happens because of my medication. And after I learn I am dreaming, waking up would sometimes follow afterward.

        The reason this did not make me happy to know I was with these children in reality is that I knew they didn't exist. I knew they weren't real. I knew it would end and they would vanish forever. And I grew attached. I didn't want them to fade away.

        But in a few moments the dream started to do just that. I've actually attempted many times to stay asleep and in a good, lucid dream a few times. Often though, it doesn't work. And here the dream around me dissolved into a sort of blur. I saw the children dissolving into non-existence as I knew they would.

       I woke up and I knew I would never see the little dream kids again. I watched imaginary people die, that I knew I would die, and did try to stop it. Even though they didn't exist it made me sad. And recounting this to you made me actually miss them. Overall the dreams caused by my medication are wonderful adventures often, or experiences that I could never fathom in reality. But there are these moments, and these children are the only people I've seen vanish before me.

Today's #flashfiction #TheLabRatAlwaysWins

“Shotgun!”

Neil Armstrong* #quote

       Today my friend Jessica will be hanging out. Much fun will be had. Shenanigan levels may even reach the levels that I have with CJ. Only time will tell. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Lab Rat Always Wins

        “He won't be able to beat this one! I made the pattern totally random and it's huge!” Dr. Winston Hugh proclaimed with a smile on his face.

       “What do you mean?” Rebecca, the doctor's new intern asked, “Why did you put such work into a test maze for the lab rats. And who's he?”

       “He is Lab Rat #47, or a rat I'm convinced must be some kind of genius or have some strange sense of smell with perfect positioning. Or something. He defies all probability of speed of maze solving. He goes straight for the end unlike the other rats. He must be doing something, but I don't know what!”

     “Hmmm...” Rebecca wondered. “If what you said is true, then there must be some cause for it.”

      Across the room Lab Rat #47 was talking with his fellow lab rats, all in little squeaks naturally.

      “How do you solve the mazes so quickly?” his buddy #49 asked.

      #47 whipped his tail around in amusement. “See the window next to our cage? It looks into the room where he builds the mazes. I watch him make the mazes and memorize the layout. I'm not going to wander around forever to get those delicious treats. Not like I have anything better to do.”

     “I wonder how long it'll take them to figure that out.” #49 replied while looking at the scientists theorize together.

Today's #flashfiction #TheRequest

“The world will know that free men stood against a tyrant, that few stood against many, and before this battle was over, even a god-king can bleed.”

March of the Penguins* #quote

Today I went out to dinner with family, a big dinner it was, as it was the extended family and not just immediate. Loved the time and ordered the same food as another family member who had ordered a spicy dish. He had good tastes as I enjoyed the flavorsplosion. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

“Please someone, kill me, before its too late,” asked Tom to all who would listen.

The Request

       A clever man named Tom was born. Well, he wasn't clever yet, he was just a baby. But he soon grew up and even skipped a few grades with a smile on his face. He knew his genius, though he still remained a kind and charismatic man, so he didn't get bullied as some of the gifted may be.

       In College he got grants for his research. He got results and eventually he would get money with almost no question. Universities and institutions just wanted him researching there for the recognition. Where he went money flowed. He made tech, physics discoveries, and so much more.

       Eventually though he made his ultimate discovery: Time travel. However when he revealed it to the world the powers that be exploited it immediately. Tom praised his foresight when he concealed its potential and only showed them part of his discoveries and the ability to travel forward in limited bursts instead of backward. The way they abused it...they caused immense damage. He decided he needed to stop it all before they interrogated him for more information.

       Since he couldn't bring himself to do it Tom went back in time before the tale of his life began and sent a request for someone to kill him. He hoped that would stop things from coming into motion.

Today's #flashfiction #TheImmortalAnt

“Help! I think I'm stuck!”

Harry Houdini* #quote

         Today I went to my card game thing. Pretty much think I got my deck prepared for the tournament coming up on the 29^th. My deck is quite silly with my favorite silly pokemon Probopass in it. It'll be fun to use against all the established strategies and decks that people have been making and winning with. If I won it'd be like someone showing up at the horse races with a donkey and still winning because he somehow made his donkey better than all the horses. Ah, what fun. And if I don't have any seizures like I didn't have any at the last one that'll be even better eh? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Immortal Ant

         One day, thousands of years ago, a little ant stumbled upon a tear of a fairy while moving food for the queen of her colony. The ant got caught in the tear, but instead of drowning, she was filled with its magic and became independent of the colony and and grew much more intelligent.

She also acquired powers beyond what even humans had.

        A lizard looked at her hungrily and shot its tounge out her. Caught in its jaw she didn't bother struggling. The lizard simply burst into a flash of flame and she emerged from the ash. Predators that attempted to harm her met this fate.

       When she first obtained her powers man possessed little technology. But now she walked the city. Often climbing the rooftops, awnings or plants between buildings to explore. Occupy herself. A long time ago she walked the great pyramids, before they were the torn apart relics they are now. She valued new sights, so when the city changed it was important.

      She saw an apartment she passed by occasionally had a new tenant. An old man replaced by a young man. College student it seemed. Among the many belongings that he brought in and unboxed, he had college books, video games, and lab equipment. No chemicals. But measuring tools of sorts. From how much was unpacked the ant figured that the student must have been living there for at least a week.

The ant explored the apartment, and after a few hours the student went to one of the boxes labeled, “Fragile Glass, Do Not Open”. Oddly enough the box had a few holes in it at the top. He pulled out a jar with holes in its lid, and even stranger, a fairy.

      “Now, now little fairy. I'm not going to hurt you. I just need your tears. I'll show you some sad videos or something. Then I can gather your tears. I won't hurt you unless I need to. Your tears can do marvelous things. I need to figure out how magic works with humans. Even using myself as a test subject. I'm a good guy.”

      The fairy sat silent in the jar.

The tenant of the apartment grew angry, “I know you understand English! I went through a lot of trouble to get you. And if I'm going to introduce magic to the world I'm going to prove it's safe so that I'm not a victim of a witch hunt.”

      “Calm down.” The ant communicated to him psychically, one of the powers the fairy tear granted her many years ago.

      “Who was that? Where are you? Was that the fairy?”

      “My name is...well I've had many names that humans have given me over the years as I've spoken with them. I'm an ant in the apartment. You can call me Deborah. A king gave me the name. A fairy tear gave me the power to communicate with you like this, among other things, like immortality.”

The young man replied, “Fine well, I'm Greg. And after the things I saw while working to get this fairy...I believe you. I've seen crazier. Wherever you are.”

       “Don't bother trying to squish me, or getting the bug spray. Nothing will work.”

        “Then what do you want?”

        “Let the fairy go.”

       “You feel some sort of pity for it?”

        Deborah thought to herself for a moment of why she insisted on letting the fairy go. “No, a single life of a fairy, or whatever you put her through for her tears wouldn't be enough for an immortal like me to care.” She remembered many things from her life. “You don't want humans like me running around. With powers like mine. I turn things to ash, invade people's minds like I am right now...and so much more. Do not expose the whole world to this boy.”

       “No, you're wrong, I'll test her tears myself.” Greg said.

       “I won't deal with your ignorance.” The ant turned the jar holding the fairy to ash along with Greg. The fairy fled. Another case of spontaneous combustion. As usual, that is how Deborah's attacks are reported by the human populace ignorant of her existence.

Today's #flashfiction #WhatASpiritWillBeWhenHeGrowsUp

“Silence is Golden.”

King Midas* #quote

       Today brother came over to hang out travel the lands with me. Y'know adventuring, doing things like throwing rings into mountains or destroying giant space stations shaped like moons. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

What A Spirit Will Be When He Grows Up

       The little spirit stood before Mother Nature and Father Time. At least one of them. When thinking of deities and all their forms of existence it can get confusing. Multiple versions of somebody was not uncommon. A form of overtime simultaneously, they were actually talking to more than just the little spirit, but in more places.

      “Now little one, Denny was it?” Father Time said, “You're going to be a full fledged deity someday. But you need to start thinking of what you want to be when you grow up. Training to become any deity takes thousands of years if not more. And if you keep switching your decisions...well there's a reason we don't have many of us.”

      Mother Nature sighed, “Not many of us complete the process. With all the universes out there we need more and more deities and forces to guide the world but now we're running out people to cover the jobs. Some of us are appear in multiple places at one time to cover what needs to be done, working overtime, and I can't remember the last time that a deity retired. Some came out of retirement to help.”

      “Now we shouldn't guilt trip the lad,” Father Time added, “I do hope one of the possible time lines I foresee where I get a vacation actually happens. You could become a time deity Denny.”

      “Or one of Nature. Though to replace me you'd have to study multiple forms and master them all but you would be praised. Think of it, Father Nature! You'd be so cool!”

       The two deities kept recommending positions to Denny from across the many universes. He stayed silent and kept thinking while they spoke. After ten minutes of their speaking he responded.

       “I can be any type of deity I want to be right? Studying any form of the universe?”

Mother Nature responded, “Yes, devoting yourself to managing it and its progress.”

       “Imagination.”

       “What?” Father Time had been so focused on what he wanted Denny to do he didn't explore this possible chain of events with his time powers, nor could he now. “What do you mean?”

       “I want to be a deity of imagination, cultivating, managing human imagination and its progress. I would be doing things like helping humans overcome writers block over all the universes or coming up with ideas for innovative inventions using my powers,” Denny explained.

        Father Time responded, “No such position exists!”

“It exists now.” The little spirit smiled.

Today's #flashfiction #TheTerrifyingPurplebeard

“That's a brain teaser.”

Igor* #quote

       While taking our daily walk father and I saw a guy practicing tight-rope walking in the park we go through. This is the second day we've seen him. He ties the rope between two trees so that it hangs low to the ground when he walks on it. He seems to be doing decent. I wish 'em luck to mastering it.

The Terrifying Purplebeard

       The human prince kept laughing and laughing. He kicked his legs like a child in a tantrum since he was laughing so hard. They tied him to the bottom of the wood column holding up the ship's sail and through no intention of his own he may just wiggle free of his bindings. Except one pirate crew member tightened the knot. The tighter ropes would probably ruin the delicate white royal outfit that cost more than some houses. A hefty price tag does come with magic fabric that hides the blemishes on the wearer's skin. Because of this outfit his ink-black skin looked like an artist carved it from marble.

      “How dare you laugh at me,” the elf pirate captain yelled at him. “I am the feared Captain Purplebeard! I'm a terror of the seas that causes nightmares in even the bravest of sailors! My ship is imbued with magic that lets it travel faster than any other and travel through worlds!” He smiled, “All cast by myself, a wizard of the highest caliber, the best the elven race can produce. People faint from fear when they even hear the name Purplebeard. Why don't you foolish human?”

         The prince laughed. “It's because you've got that beard!” He took a few deep breaths before continuing, “I've always seen elves take their different colored hair, make it long and pretty, and even braid it, and here I see you, with a beard. It's hilarious!”

       “You find my beard funny? The elf captain clenched his fist. The beard was full and thick, like Santa Claus's, and his otherwise his other hair was messy and long. It often covered the incredibly high class captain's outfit he wore. “Many elves don't want to have beards so they don't look like me! Ignorant boy! Remember our lifespan...I've lived for two hundred years making an elf with a beard a symbol of death for 150 of them.”

The prince laughed. “I'm sorry I can't help it.”

       “I'm starting to debate whether you're worth the ransom money.”

        The prince kept chuckling as a fleet of ships started to surround Purplebeard's ship. Then the prince stopped laughing.

       “So what made you stop laughing wise guy?” Purplebeard saw the ships, he first assumed that he must have stopped laughing because the rescue party came, but the prince seemed more distressed.

        “Those are elvish royal ships. They wouldn't be the ones to deliver ransom.”

Purplebeard realized his error. “No, we let them get close so they could deliver ransom!”

The elvish ships cared more about killing Purplebeard, the menace to their lands, than anything else. They shot up the ship immediately.

        And so the terrifying Purplebeard did his only good deed on the high seas during his final moments as his proud and powerful ship began sinking to the depths. As it was sinking the Purplebeard released the prince and placed him on a lifeboat. He knew that the prince would be the only one saved if caught. Him and his crew would be tortured and put to death.

Today's #flashfiction #APeacefulLunch

“Don't toy with me.”

Buzz Lightyear* #quote

Today I met a cereal killer. He murdered a box of Fruit Loops. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

A Peaceful Lunch

        The rabbit could be called nature's most content animal. It found itself content in just eating grass from a field. Munch, munch, munching. Of all the emotions rabbits felt in their little head, no matter how limited from their brain size, the once they desired most was peace. And while nibbling away at the grass it did feel peace. What a wonderful lunch.

       And in a flash a wolf came from the shadows of trees nearby and grabbed the rabbit in its maw. It dashed back into the wood where it came. And while the wolf happily nibbled away at the rabbit it felt content and peaceful. What a wonderful lunch.

Today's #flashfiction #DragonsAndHumans

“It's all about the bling.”

Sauron* #quote

       Today I time traveled to the era of disco. I didn't actually do any disco, I went out to eat. But that's where(well when) I went. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Dragons And Humans

       “Got attacked by a few knights, but I got myself some loot and a beautiful war trophy, isn't that right princess?” The dragon laughed and looked at woman. “You know why we dragons kidnap you? You make wonderful pets! Oh, once trained you humans make the most wonderful songs...and often royalty already knows how to play instruments and sing. That's why I took some instruments from your castle.” She shrieked as the red scaled monster puffed some smoked over her and whipped its thorny tail.

        She nearly fainted when another dragon twice its size entered the lair. White scales covered this once, white as tundra ice, and its dark black eyes resembled ash. The thorns on its tail were as sharp as swords along with its claws and teeth, the first dragon's looking blunt compared to it.

        “Kindling, I see you've kidnapped a princess and stole some items from the human kingdom nearby,” The white dragon walked closer.

         “Yeah, neat huh? Gonna have the princess singing in a week I swear! It's going to be awesome Whitewing.”

          After his name was spoken the dragon did spread out his namesake. His wings, like his scales, were white, and they were also massive. They cast a huge shadow over Kindling. Whitewing then grabbed him by the neck.

         “Actually runt, you won't be doing that. I will be taking back this princess and all your plunder and if you ever attack that kingdom again or any humans, I will rip your head from your body.” Whitewing let go of him.

          “Why are you siding with the humans your highness?” Kindling dropped the casual tone dragons usually carried with each other, even the lower class talking to the upper.

          “I made a smart decision.”

           Hours later Whitewing met with the human king with the princess and plunder all in the cart that Kindle stole to carry it.

          “Everything returned to you as promised,” he said. “And I will execute the dragon if he attempts to attack your people again.”

           The king was surprised that the dragon kept his word after all the conflict over the years with dragons. “Then it is agreed. Safe passage for your people during all migratory seasons, and they may live in the mountains. In exchange for tilling our fields we will allow hunting in our woods and we will use magic to heal your ill.”

          “Let our treaty last and our people's unity be a long and prosperous one.”

          This was not the only kingdom Whitewing planned to unite with the dragons.

Today's #flashfiction #TheLawyersGame

“The one ring to rule them all.”

Kay Jewelers* #quote

Today I got a Christmas card from Grandma. Thanks Grandma, love ya! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Lawyer's Game

         Tom Copper met Death with a fancy suit on and fancy hairstyle. But the type of fancy that fits business and screams “I'm here for you and I know what I'm doing.” Only thirty years the lawyer had his life taken away by an accident. His firm wept, the big bosses and coworkers knew what a promising career he had. And even the most heartless there cared because he pulled in the money from his success.

        The manifestation of Death took many forms. Like the millions of reapers gathering souls and watching over the dying each day. The lawyer met one in an endless field full of black grass when he died.

       “So Tom Copper,” the reaper said, “My shift's almost over. So please let's make this quick. If you can beat me in a game of your chooisng, which you can't, you can get a second chance at life. If you fail we can send you off and we can go from there. What's your game so I can get this over with.”

       The lawyer could feel the wind in the field, and his cautious nature made him not dismiss this as merely a dream. “So you can beat anyone in a game?”

       “We reapers are trained in that. Why don't you pick rock paper scissors? That's fast.”

       “I can pick any game?”

       “Yes.”

       “Even one of my own creation?”

        The reaper nodded. “Yes, even one where the rule you make up is that you win by default. But I've got magic powers so I've won that too. Just a bit of body swapping to make me win then I transfer back.”

         The lawyer smiled. “Sounds like its pretty hopeless.”

         “Yup,” the reaper laughed, “the afterlife ain't so bad. So please just get on with it.”

          The lawyer then began to think. The reaper waited for a response. It took five minutes but Tom used all his legal powers to create a game for him to win.

          “First rule of the game: The rules of the game take effect as soon as they are spoken by me, Tom Copper, the individual speaking at this location in space time saying these words. Second Rule of the game: The game has started. Third rule of the game: I, Tom Copper, am Player 1. Fourth Rule of the Game: Any players may do nothing to alter the outcomes that come of the rules, including magic. Fifth Rule of the game, Tom Copper, the one saying this rule at this very moment in space time, wins.”

          By the time the reaper started to get all the rules simplified in his head the lawyer had won.