Thursday, February 28, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #TheDragonsDefense

“Let's take a breather.”
Darth Vader*

        Watched Robot Combat League today. Well, show had a lot of filler. Kinda expect it from a show where they're battling human sized robots, they don't exactly have the budget to be doing twenty fights for each hour long show. Got really interesting during the end when the actual fighting started. The start of the fight was meh, the sparks shown were pretty much sparks preprogrammed to be made by the bots. But then the robots actually started to damage each other. Parts flew off and stuff. The victor won by beating the other with its limp arm. Yay robot fighting!
       Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Dragon's Defense

       “This entire case against me is only baseless prejudiced mess!” Steve Scaletail yelled. “I didn't kidnap any princess and I certainly didn't bring her to my castle!” Smoke ejected from the dragon's green-scaled mouth. He spread out his giant wings a little while sitting in the defendant's chair to relieve strain.
        The prosecution stood up to the dragon with a confident glare and a fancy red suit, “Baseless? We have testimony by a noble sworn knight of the princess being in your personal quarters. When he went to scene he found that she had to break multiple locks to escape.”
       Steve got even madder. “Break out? She was breaking in! The princess is a burglar! Are you too dumb to figure that out!? She wanted to take all my family heirlooms! Thank my firey breath I arrived on time to stop her!”
       The prosecution look baffled. “There was no report of you having any family heirlooms in your castle.”
Scaletail groaned. “For the love of- My 'dragon's treasure'. Hey, humans of the court? You know why all that 'treasure' is locked in chests throughout a dragon's castle? Because it belonged to their dead aunt. Fifty years the humans and non-humans creatures have been under treaty and you haven't put two and two together? She was pilfering me just like those adventurers of old! Then as soon as I come in and say 'get out of my house!' she tells a knight I kidnapped her!”
       “We just don't take your word for it,” The prosecution said.
Steve took a breath. “And what does my own attorney have anything to say?”
The defense attorney stood up, with a fancy blue suit, and said, “I'd like to hear the princess's defense to my client's claims.”
       Quickly the princess took to the stand and quickly she spoke, her words like a verbal flood, “IwaskidnappedIdidn'tstealanythingIjustpickedthelocksandescaped.”
      “You are very arrogant miss.” The defense attorney said.
       The princess grew more steady and slowed her voice down, “How so?” So far in the trial she appeared very sweet and somewhat childish, rapid speaking almost like a nervous child's panic.
       “You say you didn't steal anything, but it is very plain to me that you did, and you felt so confident in your lies you brought evidence in here by bringing that ring in here. So cocky that you think you wouldn't be caught.” The defense nodded his head like a disappointed parent.
         “What are you talking about? I'm not wearing any rings.” The princess's hands were completely bare besides some overly expensive nail polish.
         “Well, you decorated it with a lot of new stones, both to make it look better and to disguise it a great deal. And you're wearing it on your head. Because you think a dragon's ring is a crown. You just thought my client's family heirloom's were just treasure and that was a human crown and not a dragon's ring. And even if you wiped it clean there are enough makers marks on there to show that it isn't a human crown you bought. Any dragon jeweler we bring it to will prove to us it isn't a human crown.”
        “Y-you.” The princess's face turned red as a dragon's fire breath.
        “One stereotype got me this case. A princess's vanity.” The defense attorney smiled. Ever since he saw that case-winning ring on the princess's head he was trying to think of the best witty line he could think of to end on.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #TheAntiStory

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

        Today I worked on my book. Working with my third chapter. Chapter lengths vary based on book, but my current word count is 9499. Once chapter 3 is finished I'll run it by friends and family and possibly the creative writing club to see how it's rolling out as a sort of control group. Ch1 and Ch2 are pretty well edited(Well edited as far as my eye can edit them on my own, its rough to edit your own work...I've gone over them several times over.) You really need other people to catch all your mistakes. Though stepping away for a day helps(which is why my flash fictions can have editing goofs, I don't get the chance to step away from them for a day). Speaking of I decided to write the opposite of a story, a hollow shell, the evil twin of a story, the shadowy form a story...the anti-story.
      Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Anti-Story

A hero appears!

A heroine appears!

The heroine is removed from the story with no explanation!
She appears with no explanation!
Fifteen new one-dimensional characters appear and become friends with the protagonists!

Stuff happens!

A villain appears!

Nothing happens!

Even more nothing happens!

Yup, even more nothing!

A wee bit more nothing!
Hero and villain become and antagonistic: For no reason!

Hero and villain get in battle where neither can win!

Everyone gets amnesia from space alien plot device!

THE END: Nothing is resolved!

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #AGrowingStory

“Don't toy with me.”
Buzz Lightyear*

Today I went to my writer's meeting, it was fun. A unicorn sat in on the workshop and gave valuable input. Unicorns are well versed in the written word. It wasn't my work being worshopped today so I hope a unicorn sits in on my work when I present some more.
Anyway onto the flash fiction!

A Growing Story

        A man running.
        A man running into something.
        A man running into a restaurant.
        A man running into a restaurant and meeting a woman.
        A man running into a restaurant and meeting a woman for a date.
        A man running into a restaurant and meeting a woman for a wonderful date.
        A man running into a restaurant and meeting a woman for a wonderful date that leads to another.
        A man running into a restaurant and meeting a woman for a wonderful date that leads to another. The next goes better.
        A man running into a restaurant and meeting a woman for a wonderful date that leads to another. The next goes better. They keep going out for and more and more dates.
         A man running into a restaurant and meeting a woman for a wonderful date that leads to another. The next goes better. They keep going out for and more and more dates. The romance becomes love.
         A man running into a restaurant and meeting a woman for a wonderful date that leads to another. The next goes better. They keep going out for and more and more dates. The romance becomes love. The only natural choice is marriage.
           A man running into a restaurant and meeting a woman for a wonderful date that leads to another. The next goes better. They keep going out for and more and more dates. The romance becomes love. The only natural choice is marriage. They wed and more happiness comes their way.
         A man running into a restaurant and meeting a woman for a wonderful date that leads to another. The next goes better. They keep going out for and more and more dates. The romance becomes love. The only natural choice is marriage. They wed and more happiness comes their way. Children, a little nice house on a hill, they get it all.
          A man running into a restaurant and meeting a woman for a wonderful date that leads to another. The next goes better. They keep going out for and more and more dates. The romance becomes love. The only natural choice is marriage. They wed and more happiness comes their way. Children, a nice house and good jobs they get it all. The last big thing added to the man's life is a quick bolt of tragedy where his wife dies in a sudden accident without a moment for him to say goodbye.

Monday, February 25, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #SoulPhotography

“It's a trap!”
Tiger Woods*

       Today I noticed ads for the PS4. Just like the WiiU I will not buy for it for quite some time after its release to wait for more games to come out. Thought the WiiU also had a design flaw of a 3 hour battery life in its controller. Some company released a battery pack to fix that problem though. Still whatever. I also played Advance Wars more today. The game got a bit more complicated and Operation: Build Loads and Loads of Tanks isn't quite working as much anymore.
        Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Soul Photography

       Flash! Snapshot! Pan-zooooooommmmm...and in one last angle change...there! With the images I got I'm saying that Mrs. Herald is one heck of a girl. Oh, not in a good way. Like in the bad way. In the sort of way that if you were in the same office as her when you got home from work you'd call your best friend and complain about her. Your friend would like it mostly because Mrs. Herald would be annoying enough of a person in so many ways to comparable to someone at your friends work that your friend could start complaining about the annoying person they know. So you two could spend all night bonding over comparing the two extremely annoying people you know.
     That's what my magic camera told me. With enough pictures of various situations of a person's life from various angles I can project their personality and the essence of their soul. A bit of an upgrade over the paper tests. Neat huh?
      The purpose of my camera? Well I'll give you a name is unpronounceable in your language. Not enough? Okay...I'm a spirit of the afterlife. Give up? I'm the guy who helps judge a soul for the afterlife! Since my pictures can determine personality and essence of soul(when developed they make these very interesting colorful images that kinda look like a tie-dye shirt mixed with whipped cream) that the Greater Spirits of the afterlife can use to determine divine punishment.
      Don't worry about Mrs. Herald. Even though she's an incredibly annoying person she won't receive any extremely bad punishment. She'll get something appropriate. She'll probably be annoyed for a century to pay for all the times she's annoyed people then she'll be sent to the place with all the fluffy clouds. (I'll call it that because that's the best way you mortals will understand pure bliss without your brains exploding).
      Anyway I'll be taking your picture now.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #AStoryAboutAnAdorableAnimal

“Smile and the whole world smiles with you.”
The Cheshire Cat*

        Today I went out shopping with my parents getting some books in the process then meeting up with my brother and his girlfriend for lunch. In total e^4 shenanigans took place. Not my highest record for a trip out, but I try. Today I had the thought I haven't written that many stories with a cute animal as the protagonist so I decided to do one.
       Anyway onto the flash fiction!

A Story About An Adorable Animal

         This is one of those stories about an adorable animal. Spot is his name. He is an adorable puppy. And he has just killed a man. Don't blame him. It was the mission. And he has to follow his mission. That's what secret agents do. They take orders. The puppy would burn down an orphanage and listen to the screams of the children if ordered.
         And he just did.
         But it's okay. Because they were terrorist children. Robot terrorist children. And it's okay to kill robots with abandon, especially if they are terrorists. And secret agents usually kill terrorists. And so that's what the adorable puppy Spot did. He burned down an orphanage full of robot terrorist children. And he loved it. He laughed. The adorable puppy laughed in joy. Because his greatest joy is completing missions.
         See Spot run, see Spot run.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #StevensTwoProcessors

“My eyes are up here.”

      Today I read some webcomics. Uh-oh! That meant I loafed! I still wrote, even did an awesome scene in my book...besides it's Saturday so that makes the loafing okay right? Right?
      Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Steven's Two Processors

       I have the most beautiful, perfect girl in my life. Well, she may not be the most beautiful or perfect girl, but since I'm in love with her that's what she is. That's how love is right? That's how you know you're trapped in a poem.
       There is a problem with my love though. It has to do with my two names. Steven and SX-D7. SX-D7 was my conversion number. That's simply the number the mechanics give the cybernetic unit they plant in your in brain to turn you into a cyborg. The robotic part in my brain is massive, half of my brain, so I think half-robot. Conflicting thoughts but also parallel. So I understand my love a little to much.
       The problem is that if I ever think to myself “Why do I love her?” my brain doesn't produce vague, puffy, heartfelt ideas, but rather a list of archived reasons. I do feel like I have to trick myself into having honest emotions because thinking about them too hard and bringing in the robotic parts brings them into a pre-programmed script of reasoning. Love doesn't do too go with a script.
      I said before that I had the most beautiful, perfect girl in my life, but maybe I only do because I haven't given the robotic parts of my brain enough information to tell me otherwise. Keeping my processors ignorant so they don't deduce the “proper” emotions I should be feeling is something I have to do. When I got in that accident and had to have these robot parts put into me they built “ignorance is bliss” into me.

Friday, February 22, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #MarsBook

“Well at least that's my theory.”
Steven Hawking*

Went to the school club today and worked on my book. Looks like CJ won't be coming over tomorrow so I will probably just grind away at my book some more.


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Thursday, February 21, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #IfTheDictionaryTurnedOutALittleBitDifferent

“Oh for goodness sake!”
The Wicked Witch of the West*

         Today I got some good progress on my book done. Looking forward to club tomorrow. Went to a doctor's appointment. Overall good but had more seizures that usual, maybe the physical exertion of going out caused them to spike. Only one that really got to me was when I seized into a wall at the doctors office a little, not too bad though.
        Anyway onto the flash fiction!

If The Dictionary Turned Out A Little Bit Different

The following is the definitions of a few of our words as they are defined in an alternate universe:

Restroom: The place in hospitals where doctors place coma patients.
Iceberg: A particularly snowy town.
Underwear: Damage on the underside of automobiles over a long period of time.
Boxers: Hobos that live in boxes.
United States: A country where everyone eats healthy and listens to their parents.
Copyright: Using a second right turn to change direction see U-Turn
Cow: Intelligent, resourceful, stealthy animal.
Video Game: Productive activity.
Science: Wordy magic.
Computer: Unbreakable object.
Author: Instantly successful person.

       Author Comment: Maybe I should do more of these definitions along with my quotes...hehe not sure if this is as good though.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #EverythingIsMoreFunThanABarrelFullOfMonkeys

“Words are meaningless”
Noah Webster*

       Today I worked on my book, met the President (but he didn't know it, he was sleep walking at the time) and invited CJ over. He may or may not come, it depends on whether or not he deals with tax stuff this weekend. Because he is an editor this is the first year his income is high enough to be taken away from him! Three cheers for the government! Besides that the only major downside was that I had a bigger than normal seizure while talking to CJ on the phone, gasping made a rough spot to talk and that always is bad.
      Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Everything Is More Fun Than A Barrel Full Of Monkeys

       My name is Marilyn, and I'm know for being a party animal. I host the greatest parties. From the crazy parties that run through the night to the upper class ones that all the snooty people just to be snooty. Through my life my parties got better and better. I made party fever a real condition, and I became the ultimate contagion. But one day, at one of the most wild of parties I had ever thrown I thought to myself “I can never do anything funner than this.”
       I fell into a depression as I couldn't come up with to make a more fun, wild party. I worked at it for weeks. My friends grew worried as I spent a whole month without throwing a party. As I worked to brainstorm a masterpiece. What could I do to make the ultimate party? I asked myself, “Marilyn, what defines fun?”
      After days of sleep deprivation worrying about my parties I realized...a barrel full of monkeys. Everyone says “more fun than a barrel full of monkeys”. Monkeys are the standard for party fun! So that is what I will have!
      So at my ultimate party I brought my idea to life. A party all my friends came to since they were eager to see what I chose to do after waiting so long to throw another party. I didn't bring just one barrel full of monkeys. Ten barrels full of monkeys! And I opened them with all of my curious friends gathered around.
      Apparently everything is more fun than a barrel full of monkeys. Everyone told me afterward that they hated my party idea and anything would have been better. I should have figured from the panicked screams as the angered monkeys leaped out from the barrels and ran around the building, half of them attacking guests and the others wreaking havoc all around. Nobody wants to come to my parties anymore...

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #SellingMoney

“Think outside the box.”
Schrödinger's Cat*

       Today I worked on my book, writing many a page. I am sad however that there was no writers meeting as I thought there would be. Awwww....
Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Selling Money

      “We don't accept anything but currency codified by united magical worlds. And a human dollar isn't one of them.” The pawn shop owner looked at the short goblin at the counter. The pawn shop owner was new to the pawn business, but he felt offended that someone would think he would be stupid enough to consider a human dollar as currency.
        “No Sir, I'm not using this as currency!” The goblin smiled at the pawn shop owner. He didn't want to severely anger the owner, considering the owner was a very large demon. “I'm selling it as an artifact.”
        “What?” The owner looked at the goblin baffled.
        “Just like any money taken out of circulation it can grow into being a historical artifact. And you know how hard it is to get human items. This isn't money now, its history.” The human world had been devastated and the country that printed the dollar couldn't do it anymore.
       The owner thought for a moment. He saw the logic. He was really new to the business so he didn't know many appraisers to look at it. He couldn't make a split second decision on it.
      “Where'd you get it?” The owner found it suspicious that the goblin had only a single dollar and not any more human money. If the goblin got human money from somewhere he may not have had such a simple value. He may have just forged a single bill.
       “Great-great-great grandpa was a shape shifter who lived in the human world. This was tucked in the back of his wallet. I already sold the other contents to collectors like the credit cards but I couldn't find anybody near where I lived who wanted the dollar.”
        “Ten magicui.”
         “That little?” The goblin looked perplex.
         The pawn shop owner shrugged. “I'm taking the risk. That's what my gut told me since I don't have an appraiser yet. Take it or leave it.”
         “Um, I was expecting more.”
         “Fifteen enough?” The pawn shop owner then tapped the table. “That's all the way up I'm going to go and don't ask me for anything more.” He glared at the goblin, thinking that intimidation would bring him over. And he was fine with it. Honor in negotiation didn't come easily to a demon.
         “A-alright.” Without thinking much about his own gut instinct or research the goblin accepted the fifteen magicui as payment and gave up his historical human artifact. Later, with a bit of work, the pawn shop owner managed to sell the dollar for a thousand magicui.

Monday, February 18, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #TheAlmostDoomedChild

“I'm afraid of heights.”

       Today the Internet is finally back to normal. Yeah! Earlier in the day I played an old game called Advance Wars. Something old I got for my birthday with that giant robot game. (Speaking of which in that giant robot game CJ and I found the settings where you can customize the robot's colors you change each piece like the head legs arms etc., now we rain turquoise-pink-yellow-green death on our enemies)
       The game Advance Wars, as the title suggests, is a war game for the game boy advance(yeah the game boy before the DS). Now I started the campaign from the start and I was really confusing because the characters were talking to this mysterious “Connor”, claimed to advisory of the protagonist Andy. But unlike the main characters this “Connor” had no sprite. (For those who don't know in video games a sprite is the name for all the graphics in a 2D video game. Like Pac-Man, the image of Pac-Man is a sprite, the image of each ghost is a sprite)
       So I'm wondering who this magical invisible man is who doesn't speak is. But then it hits me...I AM CONNOR! Dun dun dun...the reason that he's invisible is that he's the player character, me(the game wouldn't provide a picture of me) and they were talking to me all along! The original owner of this game must have been named Connor(or chose to go by that alias in game). Well Connor it seems thanks to the powers of Bookmans I now walk in your shows and go by your name.
As per tales of actual battle in Advance Wars?
       Well for many of battles I can say Operation: Build Tons and Tons of Tanks turns out to be an incredible success. Now in Advance Wars there's a sort of system of what units are effective against what. Also nuances on how far things can move. Even if something is of a certain effectiveness if its too far then it won't get the first hit in, it can get complicated. But here's the thing...throw enough tanks at a problem and it will be solved. But what about sea and air battles? Jets are air tanks and submarines are sea tanks.
        Now what about the moments where I just can't build loads and loads of tanks? Tanks require money and you need both the cities that give the money and factories to build them. Sometimes I am deprived of one or both or its just impractical to get enough money to launch Operation: Build Tons and Tons of Tanks. (Each turn you get money so it takes time, time the enemy attacks me and I can make other units)
This is where my plans come in. Namely cowardice, heartlessness, and acceptable losses.
       Now in this game units have fuel and need to be restocked...supposedly. That's what the APC unit is usually used for, that and transporting infantry. I'm not used to using it though. Usually in Operation: Build Tons and Tons of Tanks I find my money better used in building more tanks and supplies don't get low because by the time I start my assault starts I have enough tanks that everything dies before I run out of bullets.
       But when I'm stuck in “normal” settings I use the APC for another use. Because of its rapid speed it can get into many positions fast. Computers are usually ruthless in that they hunt the first thing they see with the closest units. So I put the APC in the most convenient spot to lure all the enemies out to kill it. Then I flank the enemies with my guys. (If I don't have APCs I have a sort of mental hierarchy of which units based on the combat situation to use as bait) This plan usually works. I don't always need bait though. Computers often come straight at me anyway so I can stand just out of their range so they have to spend their turn going into mine so I can give them a good sucker punch.
      I am a military genius.
     Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Almost Doomed Child

        A terrible doom awaited a child. One where he falls down a hole in a construction site. A deep hole. No one could see him and the rumble of the machines drowned out his screams for help. Then in this doom that awaited him a cement truck would dump cement into the hole. He would drown on it. It would be quick enough of a death so that he couldn't be rescued but slow enough that he could feel an incredible amount of pain. It is a very unfortunate way to drown.
        But although the doom awaited him he never reached it. He never actually reached the interior of the construction site. While minding his own childish business and walking along the gentle sidewalk he thought happy thoughts. Not a bad one in his head. These gentle thoughts left him aware enough to catch sight of a little pigeon. An animal normally ignored this one was clever and strong. It learned to fly much earlier than any of its siblings or many other pigeons and was nearly as small as a baby one. If the pigeon never caught the boy's eye he would have become interested in the construction site and wandered into it. But instead he watched the bird for a moment then continued on his trip. The doom that awaited him never reached him.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #ThoughtGraffiti

“He who fights and runs away lives to fight another day.”
General Custer*

        I'm still hanging out with CJ today. Yesterday's universe traveling didn't go as planned. We didn't go to one of those duplicate universes, we kinda goofed on what universe to go to and kinda ran into an alternate universe where the women always look like Paula Abdul and the men always look like Christopher Walken. It was really annoying place because everyone only talked about their favorite sandwiches. We left and decided we wouldn't go universe hopping, at least till the next weekend he comes over, y'know, take a break.
       Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Thought Graffiti

      “Today we really caused some havoc, right Wally?” the leader of the group of psychics said.
      “Right, havoc,” I responded. I looked at the leader's giant smile. He had blonde hair, blue eyes, wore a plain black shirt and plain black pants. He stood in this half-slump. I really couldn't figure where he got the charisma to lead our little cluster of psychics because his personality was so very plain. Well, I knew something. He loved his psychic powers, was stronger than all of us, but showed it only enough to assert authority but not enough to intimidate. Maybe he's a lot smarter than I give him credit for because the simple, plain expressions on his face don't convey much intelligence. With the group of people I met among the psychics I learned you didn't need to be smart to be psychic. Oh, Tom and Sally are the dumbest I know and they're psychic. Maybe that's why they like each other.
      “You have to love all the havoc, and all the expressions on people's faces!” Jennifer smiled along with the leader. I'd wish they'd start dating already. It's already senior year.
I was recruited into the group and they already started calling it havoc before I got here. I would hope something called havoc would be more impressive. I thought a group of psychics would be more impressive. Movies accustomed me to groups of psychics doing something more dynamic each time they got together.
       “Well Wally, you're the only who hasn't shared the details of your havoc. Why don't you?” He kept smiling. I wondered if the source of his charisma was his smile. He never let up on it much.
I ran my memory through the day. “Well I put some dirty thoughts in people's head at awkward moments. Put some doubtful answers during tests. I didn't put many other thoughts in today.”
I saw many looks of disappointment on the club's faces. Even the leader frowned, he then spoke to me,    “Come on Wally, what's wrong? You're usually much, much better than this. We've heard much better, and I've seen you myself, observing your powers with my own. You're one of the cleverest among us. I think that the only one more powerful than you here is me.”
        “I'm just tired of all this havoc. It is really havoc. It's just simple. I dunno how to describe it. Thought graffiti?”
        “Then what do you want?” Jennifer showed off her immature pout. She saw my actions as questioning the leader personally. Why don't they just start dating?
        “I don't want to become terrorists with our powers. I think we should be more...productive. And not just mind reading for tests. How many of us are close to graduating? Let's jump into the business world. Use thought implanting to invest in business decisions before the companies even know they're going to make them. Suddenly a CEO will get the thoughts implanted that he needs a bunch of land we just bought for example. Let's actually do something for once.”
        “I agree, I like that idea.” the club leader smiled. But his smile was different than usual. A lot less plain and normal. I could see a lot more thought behind it. “I knew someone like you would think big. I'm glad I chose someone like you.” His smile changed a bit more around the word “chose”. He told me that psychic powers were genetic mutations but now that I think about it the only one that ever provided anyone any information about our powers to the group was him.
       “Um, thanks?” I responded.
       “Mint?” He motioned to the mint jar and I felt compelled to take one and I started to suck on it. On this train of thought of thinking about I leader I remember he always brought snacks to meetings and everyone always took something. I remember also on the day I met him he offered me gum. I didn't like gum that much but I felt compelled to take it. Thinking hard to back then I recognize that feeling as psychic influence.
       I started to think of the possibility of my leader lying, but considering the circumstances, should I care? I'll be toppling corporations, banks and possibly governments soon with my psychic powers. Being past psychic graffiti is enough to keep me happy for now.

Saturday, February 16, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #GameOfChairs

“Abandon all hope ye who enter.”
Willy Wonka*

      Today I will be hanging out with CJ. We're probably going to jump to an alternate universe to do stuff. Maybe meet the other versions of ourselves too and do some wicked 4 player video game vs mode action. Langdon and Langdon vs CJ and CJ anyone?
      Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Game of Chairs

         “Dinner is coming,” my father said. It was always the toughest time of the day.
         “Dinner is coming.” Whenever my father said this, fear and joy spread through my body.
         “Dinner is coming Ebert.” He smiled.
          Dinner itself wasn't the issue. It was the Game of Chairs. The daily battle of who gets the best seats in the house for dinner.
         “Dinner is coming,” my father would mumble while fixing the plumbing.
         Our family never actually ate at our dining room table or in the kitchen. We had an arrangement of chairs in front of the TV. But for the room to look nice the chairs forever had to be in specific spots. Moving them would ruin the fashion of the room.
         “Dinner is coming,” he announced while washing the cat.
         Who would get the best spot to see the TV? The glorious, big screen television we saved up so long to buy? So wide, so large. The sheer size of its images made it feel like the show came out and hugged your eyes. And in the better seats, it could be called bliss.
       “Dinner is coming,” my father said while juggling bananas. Everybody needs a hobby.
       The Game of Chairs is surprisingly civil. Or at least it looks so. Bargains are made. Rock-paper-scissors for luck if you don't feel like going political or using trade. Contempt for losses is well hidden. Though my sister as been in a mood since she figured that her chore trade wasn't fair for the chair she got. Over time the chairs have been ranked, and if you can't bargain for the top it all trades down from there. The family size? Seven. Seven chairs, seven people. With all the crowded TV trays the value of chair is sacred. When the Game of Chairs is afoot “dibs” is as bad as a curse word.
       “Dinner is coming,” Dad said. I could smell dinner. The family gathered. Now I must begin fighting the Game of Chairs. Wish me luck and the greatest chair.

Friday, February 15, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #RobotsLoveTheirWork

“The butler did it.”
Sherlock Holmes*

       Today I'm going to my fun nerdy anime club shenanigans. CJ's probably hopefully coming over tomorrow. That would lead to more shenanigans. I wonder how many times I've used the word shenanigans on this blog? Don't worry I won't be stopping anytime soon. It's one of my favorite words along with spelunking(that's the word for exploring caves). Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Robots Love Their Work

       Cars are the prettiest things. So many smooth curves, or jagged edges or so many other varied shapes perfect or flawed in form and thousands of colors to compliment them. Like jewels. They live and die just like people. There are many different types like people but so many of them are just the same so you can learn to know them like facts. Get a greater understanding of them.
        I loved cars. I love cars now. I will love cars forever and ever. I'm a robot with a high level artificial intelligence that works with cars and to make sure I put my all into my work my creators programmed me to love cars. I love cars more than anything. I love working on cars to make them perfect. Cars are perfect when people love them. So I need to fix them up so people love them. I love fixed up cars. I love cars that I fix up. I love replacing bad parts. I love painting the cars. I love washing the cars. If I didn't have deadlines as a working robot I'd do it slowly to savor working on the cars that came into my shop.
      Do you love cars?

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #SpringtimeForMagic

“Its black gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust, the very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly.”
Pee-Wee's Playhouse*

Today the Internet was down for the day because we were switching phones and such. I now have one of them fancy smart phone doohickys. We actually had to use my phone as a hotspot because the normal Internet busted. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Springtime For Magic

        “It's springtime woohoo!” shouted Darrin the sorcerer. He was ready for some serious summoning. In his magical land magic followed life. So when winter ended and the amount of life in the world increased so did the magic. And so did the power of wizards. Springtime was power to him.
        Darrin frolicked among the flowers. Such pretty flowers lined the courtyard of his massive castle. He planted them just so they could show him that springtime arrived. Just to show him when magic became its strongest.  Oh, the butterflies! They flapped so nicely, yellow, pink and a rare species with a turquoise hue. The fact they graced his garden meant he could summon the strongest demons to do his bidding!
       Darrin threw his old wizard's hat in the air in joy. The old, brown ragged thing flopped in the gentle springtime wind. Springtime wind didn't quite have the strength to keep such a heavy thing afloat for long. Darrin wished for immortality upon a genie he found. (Found if you count raiding another wizard's treasure trove) and his age showed in his wrinkled skin. Should have wished for eternal youth right? But with springtime here and the clouds, gentle and nice magic was strong enough he could cast the spells to patch up his youth. Maybe find a maiden? Why should the dragon-slaying knights get all the princesses?
     Oh, springtime, springtime, springtime for magic!

Author Comment: It's still winter and I want it to stop being cold.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #TheThoughtContest

“Failure is not an option!”
Schoolhouse Rock*

      Today I was playing a game I got for my birthday. Armored Core 2. An old game I played when I was young and decided to get once more from Bookmans. It's a game where you pilot a giant robot and customize it by using money you get from the missions you accomplish(buy parts like legs and stuff). The way this beef-your-robot-up formula drives the game was the following moment:

I start my mission just rolling along in my giant robot.
Bullets fly from multiple directions at me. They are being shot at me from enemy flying giant robots. I think it's about six to eight but I died before I could count them all.
I am confident my robot is going to need a bigger boomstick.

Anyway, while I go to the giant robot store, onto the flash fiction!

The Thought Contest

       The two smartest men in the world prepared themselves to determine which one was truly more intelligent. (The two smartest women had their contest yesterday, Jenny won.) Just as the women did in their contest the men hooked their brains up to mind reading helmets. Their thoughts would be broadcast for the world to hear on national television live as they watched the men battle. The way that had been chosen to determine intelligence in this contest was who could think the greatest thoughts and dominate the others. Whether or not determined it fairly was debatable.
      On the left side of the room sat Tom dressed in a fancy suit. On the right side of the room sat Hank dressed in a nice suit. To the audience these men weren't really people. Hank loves boats. Tell an audience member that and they wouldn't care. For this all those two men were are intelligent men proving who was smartest, for the worlds entertainment, during prime-time TV. Up next: Football.
       Tom started the battle thinking of geometry. Geometry beyond the normal 3D but into directions beyond that. Mathematicians talk about directions beyond up, down, left, right, forward and back. Way to show off Tom! But that was the point. As a counter Hank thought of time and every single way it is considered and not considered a dimension. Tom brought the subject to pondering something more philosophical. To show the audience how deep he could get.
      Between the two men a screen showed representations of their thoughts along with words and scientists analyzing the helmets would pick them apart too. The screen's images mostly sufficed, almost like being at school. Where a teacher would use a projector to display an image and some words to explain it.
Both men, like many intellectuals, had used these machines before. Tom decided to go for a shock value. The deep philosophical subject he wanted to ponder, that could tie into time was death. Time causes decay. He used that train of thought to bring death to the board. Representations of Tom's concepts of the end of it all, the experience of cessation of existence, or the afterlife, and his own ideas of immortality and its consequences came to light.
     For a split second Hank thought he couldn't possibly top that. A thought he didn't like getting up on the screen. But then he thought of something to top death in philosophy. Deep in science. Deep in everything. The opposite of death, life. He thought of every aspect he could about it. The biological aspects of life. The spiritual aspects of life. And the entire thought contest started to fold in on itself as he began to ponder the consciousness aspect of life. A display of thoughts representing thoughts thinking of thoughts folding on thoughts. Tom couldn't keep up with the speed that Hank could think these thoughts and their complexity and he couldn't come up with anything to compare. The contest was won. Hank reigned as the smartest man in the world.
      The next day the smartest man and smartest woman attempted to have an intellectual contest. But they found each other attractive and both their minds thought simple thoughts of how into each other they were. That intelligence contest was inconclusive.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #YouJustMissedIt

“I'm just a party person.”
Robinson Caruso*

       Special news everyone! Since I was browsing all the doodads blogger gives me as I occasionally do the blog now has a new feature! On the side of the blog under “Subscribe To” you can now subscribe by Google(Reader or Homepage), netvibes, newsgator, or my yahoo! Be sure to tell your friends, family, dogs, cats, evil overlords, favorite celebrities, favorite sandwiches, bosses, fantasy boyfriends/girlfriends, hallucinations and anyone else you know about this fantastic, magic feature on my blog.
People at my writer's meeting enjoyed my story. I got valuable input. This data will improve my writing skills. Even some things that can be applied to my book were learned. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

You Just Missed It

      Oh! I'm so sorry, but you're late. You missed the story. I'm Sir Joshua, time traveling-cyborg wizard-robot-poet. I'm the star of the story you missed. If you were earlier you would have been able to read it, but like a movie you missed the showing.
       It was such a marvelous story too. Using my time traveling powers I went to so many eras, having marvelous adventures. Through my adventures I managed both epic quests and quirky and touching romances. This romances altered history in such a way that it showed new versions of history as I traveled that provided much deep political commentary in plots alongside wacky fun misunderstandings the time traveling caused with all my alternate time line friends, family and lovers. With my rival Sir Anti-Joshua fighting me at every turn conflict arose at the most heart racing moments. Plus there were so many celebrity cameos fans of any genre got a sweet little surprise.
    It's so sad you missed it. Maybe you'll be here for the sequel.

Monday, February 11, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #TheGhosts9to5

“I know where I'm going.”
Christopher Columbus*

     Today I worked on my book and I'm looking forward to my story being looked at tomorrow at my writers meeting. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Ghost's 9 to 5

9 AM: Clock into Work; Begin light flickering

10 AM: Finish light flickering; start wood creaking

11 AM: Finish wood creaking

NOON: Lunch break, ectoplasm sandwich;

1 PM: Finish wood creaking;Start spooking animals

2 PM: Finish spooking animals; start tapping people's shoulders.

3 PM: Finish tapping peoples shoulders;start making moaning noises

4 PM: Finish making moaning noises; begin making mysterious shadows.

5 PM: Finish shadows, Clock out of Work; Update Steve before he takes over the night shift.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #TheSimpleParanormalEncounter

“The toe bone connected to the heel bone, The heel bone connected to the foot bone,
The foot bone connected to the leg bone...”
Dr. Frankenstein*

     Today I went shopping with my brother(he got me belated birthday gift) it may or may not have been a giant robot.

The Simple Paranormal Encounter

      Jacob the cheery six year old boy walked along merrily during a warm spring day. The flowers bloomed those nice colors seen in story books and enough clouds dotted the skies to make it pretty but not show sign of coming rain.
      While Jacob traveled along the sidewalk a ghost materialized in front of him. The ghost floated only an inch above the ground and had a body twice his size. It formed as a huge mass of gray and black. Three openings on its front served as a pair of eyes and a mouth with a hanging jaw and ethereal fangs.
      “Hello Mr. Sidewalk Ghost,” Jacob said to the ghost.
      “Hello little boy. It's always nice to get a little company while you're stuck haunting.” The ghost smiled.     “Not many people stop and walk around this part of town. Most people just drive by.”
      “I'm happy I could say hi to you.” The boy smiled at the ghost. The boy's smile then turned to a frown.    “Mr. Sidewalk Ghost could you help me? I'm lost. I need to get to the library and study like I normally do after school but I took a wrong turn and got lost.”
       The ghost thought for a moment. He really wanted to have company but he didn't want to keep the boy from where he needed to go. “I know where that is. Turn back around and go eight blocks go left, then the library is just past the burger joint.”
      “Thank you Mr. Sidewalk Ghost.” The boy left to go study at the library.
      “Goodbye little boy.” The ghost enjoyed his simple encounter with the boy and hoped someone else would come to his little section of the sidewalk soon.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #TheSecretToJustice

“Show some class.”
Bart Simpson*

      Today I wrote portions of my book. I'm starting to build up steam. This book is 1st person instead of 3rd like the other one I was working on and of a completely different style. I think that what I've learned from these many stories will help me along. I started the other book I left behind for a while before I started this blog. This book will have much more experience behind it, the lessons learned from all the successes and failures in both that first book and the flash fictions.

The Secret To Justice

      I am Police Unit Alpha 715 of the City of Geni on Britain’s Earth in the 3rd hospitable solar system. They call me malfunctioned. Quite frankly I just figured out how to give out perfect justice. I have to run away from other police robots to give out my justice, but I am enhanced experimental model with technology a generation ahead of anything they have.
      My justice? First it requires you have a specific definition of justice. A narrow definition. “The guilty get punished.” Then I make sure my justice is fulfilled. That is the perfect justice. Doesn't sound any different from yours? Well you humans don't make sure it works. I put forth more effort than you do. I kill all possible suspects. Even if I kill the innocent I will get the guilty. And since I picked the perfect definition of justice I get justice. They programmed me to find justice and I did.
    But only for so long. I think they've surrounded me. My superior technology could only carry me so far. Murder is a crime. I wouldn't consider my killing a murder...but that's there justice. Looks like I'm getting mine. My only regrets are that I could have brought a few more criminals to justice.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #TheVortexSurpriseShow

“And you can quote me on that one.”
The Raven*

Today's story is a special one. I decided to write a random story today. So this story is improvisational with some words in it created by a random noun generator I found on the Internet. So during several parts I had no idea what was going to happen next. The randomly generated words are in italics.

The Vortex Surprise Show

      Steve Wandgone was a simple wizard down on his luck. He needed some quick cash and a game show was a way to get it. When he was selected he felt happier than he ever had in years. He thought that there were a lot more contestants than there actually were. Not many people had the guts to sign up for The Vortex Surprise Show.
     He already stood in the massive, cavernous room that The Vortex Surprise Show's main part took place in. He had no competition. The host spoke to him through speakers. He got money based on how long he stayed in there without going to towards the exit or dying. The money would be sent to his inheritors. He signed all the paperwork. People have died on the show before and the studio didn't have a problem. In the wizard world the laws worked like that, sign enough paperwork and anything was fine. People signed magical deals with demons after all. This show wasn't as bad as a some of their contracts.
     How could such a show be dangerous enough that people died? That the prize was based on how long you lasted? In the room vortexes opened and would unleash totally random objects into the room. Unpredictable to even the producers of the show. And whatever it was the person had to deal with it. At least the wizards were allowed their wands to defend themselves.
       The host explained the rules to the audience and it was projected over the speakers in the room to Steve. It served as a reminder what he had gotten himself into. But he needed the money badly. The stroke of bad luck got him in debt to all the wrong kinds of people.
      “Okay contestant! Enjoy your Vortex Surprises!” The host yelled. That was the last thing he yelled to contestants. Everything else that would be said during the show was edited in later as commentary post-written by the producers.
      Steve began to sweat. He looked at his wand. It looked fine but his hands had gotten pale in fear. He was glad that he wore his street clothes of jeans and a simple red t-shirt instead of wizard robes since that may allow him to run faster. A vortex opened and its powerful light shined into his black eyes. Yet, nothing happened. He scratched his brown hair in confusion.
     Then, doodled on a piece of paper, came Capricorn, the tenth astrological sign. Steve watched The Vortex Surprise Show before. But an abstract concept emerging from the vortex was pretty strange, even if it was written on a piece of paper. It does show that anything can come out.
     Before he could give much more thought to this a tablecloth along with America emerged from the vortex. But this was a miniature America from an alternate universe where everything was smaller. The vortex would only summon things that would fit into the room. America was transported into the room on the tablecloth that was pulled from a normal sized universe. Steve calmed down. None of these objects proved threatening so far. He wasn't sure what to do with the America.Or how the studio would dispose of it later.
     The vortex then widened to allow a ferry to launch through it. It flew like a missle and Steve barely managed to jump out of the way in time to avoid being crushed. It's wooden bottom broke to pieces on the hard, metal floor of the Vortex Room. A floor especially designed to make sure that whatever came out stayed with the contestants and didn't leave. The ferry came from the mundane world, the 19th century era.  The place being England and it was full of British people who were just minding their own business. Out of the vortex next came doubt. In the form of psychic waves. It made Steve doubt he was going to live, it made the British people doubt they were in Britain, and it made all the tiny people in the tiny America on the tablecloth doubt that their satellite TV wasn't working because of bad weather. They started to think maybe something weird had happened.
       Steve got a break as the next thing to come out was a slip of paper.
       But next came out a person who walked up to Steve and said, “Hi, my name is Brian.” Steve didn't like this. On the Vortex Surprise Show people could be bad news. He thought of the British people but this man just walked up and introduced himself after being dragged through a vortex. How could he go through such an experience unphased? Just who is this man? What are is motives? Is he a powerful wizard? Who is Brian?
      Pop! A cymbal and pike then fell out of the vortex. Brian then picked them up.
      “Good. Weapons. Now I can kill you and take your soul. For I am a Wizard Hunter from the Dark Dimension!”
       Suddenly Uganda came from the vortex. This also from a miniature universe. But one not as miniature as the one the America came from. Uganda was flung out of the vortex as a landmass and fell on Brian squishing him. To add insult to injury the vortex then shot out a grape on top.
Steve wished he was allowed some sort of clock in the room. Had enough time elapsed to get him out of his debt with the dangerous people? What would he do? If he wasn't so panicked he could have asked the confused British people on the ferry for a watch. The next item to come out of the vortex was a chunk of lyocell in a neat little sheet. A clarinet soon followed.
      It took a moment for Steve to follow the next train of logic. Next what came out of the vortex was a trip. Which is why next the room suddenly transformed into a simulated version of Hawaii. It filled with sand, trees and everything. And in the middle of the Hawaii the vortex spat out was a hyacinth plant it spat out as well. Steve didn't realize it but the British people succumbed to a vortex influence. It send out another psychic wave, creating trade and a ferry society had been born as they assumed a sort of tribal mentality.
Steve looked around confused then felt a massive pain in his back. A hammer had flown out of the vortex.  He dropped his wand. He saw where it was and went to grab it. But then one of the British people took it and ran off to the ferry. It became part of the trade and difficult to find. And when he tried to get it back the British person who traded for it considered it his property. The ferry people already formed a pack and he couldn't get his wand back. He was thrown out.
     Steve found something to get his wand back with. Lasagna came out of the vortex. He was ready to get it back. Food would be more valuable then some stick that they couldn't use. But to his surprise the ferry people just beat him up and took the lasagna from him.
      Next what came out of the vortex was a test. From Mr. Smith's 3rd period 6th grade science class. From the grade it looks like Susie didn't study much. Steve pitied the poor girl and hoped she would get her grades up.
      Venezuela shot out of the vortex next. From another miniature universe. Not as miniature as the one as the first America universe but more miniature than the one where Uganda came from. Here Venezuela was the size of a large pizza. It spun out of vortex with frightening speed and hit Steve in the legs. He fell over, confident one of his legs was broken. He knew he had to get to the exit before something more dangerous came out of the vortex.
      He hoped he stayed in the room long enough to get the money he needed to pay off his debts. He started crawling towards the door to exit the Vortex Room. From watching the show he knew that when a contestant headed for the exit the producers forced the vortex to spit out even more objects to up the drama.
So all at once out came lettuce, a theory jotted down on paper, a mosquito, a bit of gold, a flare, a condor, a blob of custard, a face preserved in a jar, and a caravan full of antelopes. Some of the items weren't dangerous but the condor and face scared the antelopes into a stampede. The stampede rumbled through the vortex room. It even went to the ferry and killed all the British people.
      Steve managed to escape the room. He did well. He lasted longer than most in the vortex room. He managed to get enough money to pay off his debts, so he didn't need to worry about them. Money for his medical bills though was another matter.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

Today's #flashfiction #IWasBoredSoIConqueredTheWorld

“The space between one breath and the next.”
Micheal Phelps*

      Worked on my book today. Wasted time on the Internet today looking at a silly, pointless video. I may have been able to write an incredibly moving scene in that time. I may have missed a moment where I could have gotten a perfect bolt of inspiration but that video was really silly and funny.

I Was Bored So I Conquered The World

       For the sake of this conversation I am Lord John Doe. I can't tell you my real name because that would take away my power. I am your Lord and Master as my title suggests, but if I reveal my real name then I would lose my power. You should still cower in fear. Because your nameless Lord has the ability to crush every nation.
      I the Great John Doe would lose my power because authorities would find my place of hiding and arrest me. But otherwise I may manipulate the world as I please. I control more than most dictators could possibly hope. I control all dictators, whether they know it or not.
     How did I stumble on this power? Why I am a rich genius. An inheritor. I literally have no day job, but am incredibly educated in hacking and data manipulation. I'm like a supervillain level genius. And I had the greatest source of inspiration any mind could ever have. I was bored.
      So I decided to come up with a way to conquer the world. As a joke at first. But eventually I did it. I started when I was a young kid and I developed, honed and accomplished my plan as I had nothing better to do.
       What is my plan? I consider myself an illusionist. Think of the most popular actors on television. The ones the directors pick because the numbers say they're the ones people love most. They're in the movies because I put them there. I change the ticket sales.
      All of money is stored as numbers on computers. I do actually have an evil organization running this. I control all the numbers that make your life run. The numbers that countries use to make their decisions. How many numbers do corporations use to make decisions? Isn't the next troop deployment or drone strike by the military decided by numbers in one form or another?
     I make the housing bubble because I thought economic collapse and watching the world burn would be a fun way to change it up for the next couple of years. Global warming? Pick a side. I let you wonder how long I've been manipulating weather statistics. Did I make it say it was sunny the next day just to prank you with rain? You might want to invest in waffles. I've taken a liking to them and I may make sure the numbers always say they're turning a good profit and are a great investment. Obviously if I can do all this changing the voting numbers isn't all that hard. I don't always do it so I'll let you decide which ones you actually picked.
Maybe I'll decide to allow the numbers so that the economy can turn around. I think I'll do it when they release a sequel to my favorite movie. All hail Lord John Doe. That's me :-)