Today's #flashfiction #AlexandersChoice

“Do you know The Muffin Man?”

The Pillsbury Dough Boy* #quote

       Tonight the parent's will be coming home tonight from the trip to brother's wedding. (And yes, ergo, my brother is wed, a ceremony will be held in this state for his branch of the family he and his bride can muster it up, but granted one wedding is enough of a thing to deal with). Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Alexander's Choice

        “And so it finally it happens.” the gigantic black dragon said with a puff of smoke, “Alexander The Grand the greatest knight in all the lands meets me, Goor the Neverending Flame the most powerful and feared dragon in all the lands.”

        “And the taming will begin.” Alexander drew his blade, the legendary Loridor. It was a blade enchanted with incredible powers.

         “Ah yes, the taming,” Goor replied, “where the knight and dragon fight. Where there are four possible out comes. The knight is killed. The knight flees, as the dragons always allow him to do. The dragon is killed. Or the dragon surrenders, and is 'tamed' to be your steed.”

        “Well, dragon, there are only two possible outcomes in this battle, Loridor is so powerful it has allowed me to kill any dragon with a single blow! I have never lost a single battle! I am invincible with it!” Alexander proclaimed. It was true he had never lost a battle. When his reputation spread some dragons surrendered as soon as they saw him draw his blade.

         “Ah, but you are not as invincible as you may think. I am Goor. Though your blade is powerful I am even in power with it. Our chances of our victory would be equal. Our battle would be like flipping a coin.” It took a minute for the reality of the statement to wriggle into Alexander's brain.

         “I must concede to your statement as dragons cannot lie.” Alexander looked at Loridor. He was full of disappointment and rage, he had relied on it as much as his own two legs when fighting.

         “Alexander The Grand. I must ask you one thing.” Goor said while looking straight into Alexander's eyes.

         “What is it?” Alexander asked. Alexander started getting confused. The tone of the dragon, though stern had also gotten causal and friendly in an odd way.

          “If you were me, what would you do right now? Would you surrender or would you fight?”

          “What?” Alexander just froze like he had been hit by a paralysis spell.

           “If you were me, what would you do right now? Would you surrender or would you fight?” the dragon repeated this time speaker slower, like a teacher to a child who didn't understand a simple math question.

           Alexander started to run the question through the deepest parts of his mind. He thought if he fought he would have a fifty percent chance of living, the pros and cons of that are simple to understand. Surrendering is simple too, he'd just be fleeing home back to his family. Then he remembered that is what would happen if he were the knight. The dragon becomes the steed. He then thought of a horse. A horse's life isn't too bad. It eats and gets rode as long as its in good condition. He realized he was steering himself away from the dragon's perspective again. Was he subconsciously trying to avoid putting himself in the dragon's position? Horses didn't have the self awareness that dragon's did. Dragon's also understood every word a knight said as it rode it. They knew their exact position in society and what they didn't have and what the knights had. Alexander also thought of the fact that dragons also understood the concept of honor. And when they surrendered they would know that they would have lost it. He also remembered the fact that dragons were often stabled alone in barns because of their large size, mostly isolated from their own kind, a luxury even horses had.

         “I would surrender.” Alexander told the truth. Fifty-fifty odds weren't good enough. Even with all of that as a consequences. Alexander's victories had been guaranteed by his blade in all his previous fights. In reality he was not a man who would fight, in fact, the sword is actually what granted him his swordsmanship ability and his physical ability, without it he couldn't even slay an angry sheep. He feared death just as much as anyone else, in actuality even more than most, at heart he truly was no great warrior.

         “Then I shall do exactly as you would.” Goor said as he approached Alexander then laid on his side exposing his gut. This is how dragons surrendered as it left them completely open. “I surrender Master. And let my service as your steed be a constant reminder of your choice and its consequences. It will also make you understand the experience of all other dragons you have 'tamed' and the experience of all the dragons other knights have 'tamed'. And the reason why some dragons have chosen not to be tamed.” Goor then coughed a puff of thick smoke, “Now Master where would you like your steed to take you first? Perhaps to a nearby tavern so you may recount your tale of taming me, Goor the Neverending Flame, the most powerful and feared of all the dragons, to your fellow knights?”

Today's #flashfiction #TheElegantOgre

“Let me hold that for you.”

Atlas*

        Today I went over to my Aunt and Uncle's for dinner and they were also really super rad and gave me their old Atari. It'll be cool to play some old games and I'll probably show it to CJ to. That'll be extra fun the next time they come over. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Elegant Ogre

           Ogres are normally the most beastly of beasts. A common fact that could hardly count as trivia but people feel like mentioning it so often just because people just don't understand how beastly the beasts are. And the people who underestimate the beastlyness of these beasts are the ones that end up with their heads on a pike. But sometimes there are those that know of the ogres terrible nature that have terrible fates anyway by some unfortunate turn of circumstance.

          But there was one of the beasts who wasn't so beastly. Well, he started out just as beastly as the others. However by circumstance he found a book about manners left behind by human merchant ambushed in woods by his fellow ogres. It fascinated the ogre. The beasts knew how to read because it helped keep records for war and their history, human books of many kinds hardly ever interested them. However this one just clicked with this ogre for some reason.

        The book on manners was massive and covered even dancing. It was a book for nobles to do pretty much every single thing a noble was meant to do at those social occasions that nobles did to butter up their backstabbing politics. The ogre practiced the manners in the night and when caught shifted positions and claimed he was experimenting to invent a new battle style.

        Eventually the ogre mastered the manners and a few years after his deviant hobby met an incoming storm. Humanity had tired of the armies of ogres and countered with their own. A massive nation had decided to exterminate them. Ogres had pillaged their villages and attacked their tradesmen mid-route for far too long.

      Several ogre villages fell but before the army fell upon the full populace the ogre that discovered the book of manners managed to find their camp and enter it unarmed except for a elegant suit he had secretly crafted. A suit he crafted to match the most noble in the book of manners. The soldiers brought the ogre to the captain. They were confused at the suit but still expected an execution.

      The ogre used the manners in the book to command a human-like charisma more powerful than any other and befriended the captain in a single night. The next morning he swayed the soldiers as he appeared as one of the nobles that they served with both pride and fear. The soldiers held back for a few days at first for the ogre to meet with the nobles. The next few weeks had the ogre swaying the nobles with his manners and elegance. Soon the war was over as the elegant ogre managed to turn the ogres into mercenaries for the large nation. The beastly beasts started adopting manners in order to negotiate, though they kept their beastly nature to retain their ability to become employed.

Today's #flashfiction #FastestFoodJoint

“The one thing I want to leave my children is an honorable name.”

George Foreman* #quote

       Parents haven't gotten home yet from the trip, so still chillin' and stuff. Though also bro will be coming back to this state after the wedding, but later than the parents. Got a special gift for him, it'll be fun when he sees it. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Fastest Food Joint

        Mind reading. Most of the time people would hate to be violated in such a manner. To have their thoughts probed. Touched by a stranger. What reason could anyone let their minds be exposed to another person's prying fingers?

Convenience of course!

       Just as people are used to sacrificing privacy for the convenience of the Internet people gave up the privacy of their mind for such speedy, life-easing, modern presences as Murray's Mental Meals! Now with their mind reading technology they'll read your mind and know what you want to eat before you even order, maybe even before your subconscious thinks it up. And with their incredibly well designed robotic chefs the meal will be done before you even arrive. You want a quick meal of so many types? No matter how crazy? They've got them, makin' em from scratch and right on time.

        Sure they may scan your brain for information(some laws protect your credit card information, but not things they can use to spam your email or sell to corporations for polling and other research purposes) but what would you give to have your ideal meal ready when you drive up to a restraunt.  That means your meal is ready as soon as you get there or in case of delivery as you think it up! Steak, ribs, salad and ice cream in no time flat please. Oh, yeah, they know I like action movies too.

Today's #flashfiction #WhatTheStoryCouldSay

“Master betrayed us. Wicked. Tricksy, False. We ought to wring his filthy little neck. Kill him!”

Brutus and Cassius, Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare

          Mom and Dad flew out to Washington for my brother's wedding this weekend. Unfortunately I can't go because of my disability we're not sure how badly I would react to flying and the long trip. I could have a large amount of seizures, and incredibly strong ones...and that is too risky. So I'm chillin' at home with Grandma and her cousin visiting. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

What The Story Could Say

A story decided it could say:

The character is happy.

The character is sad.

The character is a person you'd like.

The character is a person you'd hate.

The character is pure.

The character is sinful.

The character is hypothetical.

The character is symbolic.

But afterward the reader decided what the story would say.

Today's #flashfiction #TheWizardsAndTheStorageUnits

“Who's on first?”

Babe Ruth* #quote

Today I watched reruns of the news. Kinda boring considering it was all old news. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Wizards and the Storage Units

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

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

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

        “5 gold, 10 gold, 15 gold, 20 gold” I heard a few people bid with the auctioneer prattling on with that annoying fast talk. I hated that auctioneer fast-talk, it was like the sound of a rabid fairy. I suppose there are some people who could sanely bid on mummy units. Ones who would get them for dirt cheap then go through them hoping the necromancer accidentally left behind something of value with his corpses. Legally disposing of bodies and the chances of finding items are so low are difficult so I wouldn't do it. And quite frankly even if there was a big profit margin... I'm not going through corpses.

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

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

        “Ten thousand gold,” a voice said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

            “I take my risks,” I responded.

             “Opening bid one hundred gold!” He yelled.

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

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

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

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

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

Today's #flashfiction #MyChildhoodActors

“No one ever listens to me!”

Simon* #quote

Does a rebel without a cause protest with blank signs? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

My Childhood Actors

I was a poor boy growing up with only three toys: A teddy bear, a soccer ball, and an old doll passed down through the family longer than anyone could remember. No older or younger siblings to play with, but Dad or Mom would play catch or kick the soccer ball back and forth with me when they could. I had friends I hung out with but that was both later in life and only on occasion. In the times between it was me, the teddy bear, the soccer ball and the old doll. My parents had to work often to support the medical bills of my ailing grandmother.

I couldn't think of many games to do alone with a soccer ball, doll and teddy bear. But one day we saw a play and I decided to make that my game. I decided that I would make my toys my actors in the play and each day would bring a different play.

The soccer ball could be the fat king getting disgusted with the falling in love of his daughter, the doll and the peasant off the street, the teddy bear. Or perhaps the teddy bear archeologist would have to flee the soccer ball boulder as it retrieved the golden artifact idol. The toys would play multiple parts in more complicated plays. The cardboard box they came in could be a house, castle, mountain, dungeon or an actor itself. The toys would be whatever they needed to be whether or not it would make sense to my parents as they watched. I made voices for them and over time I practiced.

And now I work in the cartoon industry providing voices for many characters over the many shows I worked on over the years. All voices I honed and started with from my plays with those three toys. I doubt the audience could ever guess that the voice of their favorite superhero once belonged to a soccer ball.

Today's #flashfiction #OneLittleMistake

“Don't you just love the holidays?”

Die Hard* #quote

         Today I went to my epilepsy doctor. I may be heading off to the hospital again for examination and medication change in a few months, but for now we're just adjusting my cybernetic implant. (I have a little nerve stimulator that sends a pulse to a nerve at the bottom of my neck every few minutes to help with my seizures.)

One Little Mistake

       “You locked the keys inside the getaway car.” the Brains of the Outfit resisted punching the brawn. “How could you be such an idiot!?”

        The Brawn of the Outfit shrugged. “Could have been born that way?” He still held the bags of money from the bank with ease.

         The Geek of the Outfit added “It was a rhetorical question you moron.” She gripped the computer she hacked the bank with tightly. She thought of it like a child of hers. Much more valuable than the money...it scared her that the police could confiscate it. They would violate it when the examined it as evidence!

         The Comic Relief of the Outfit, honked the clown nose on his black bank robber's mask then interjected, “Hyuk! Let's just find a way to open the car and get on outta her before the coppers grab and grab and snag us!”

          The Brains of the Outfit tried to pick the lock on the door. He failed. The Brawn tried to break in by force. He failed. The Geek of the Outfit tried to use knowledge about the car she amassed during her massive amount of time reading random factoid's on the Internet to exploit a design flaw in the car's door frame to open it. She failed. The Comic Relief of the Outfit tried to use pie. He failed.

         The police nabbed three bank robbers, who learned a lesson in making sure to worry about all the little details.

Today's #flashfiction #TheDoomsdayDoohicky

“Break a leg.”

Evel Knievel* #quote

Today I'm going to be workin' with my Dad sanding my costume armor. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Doomsday Doo-hicky

       “The uh, Doomsday Doo-hicky!” Doctor Waldon proclaimed. The vile doctor would come up with a good supervillain name sooner or later.

Robot Minion, his robot minion, said, “Sir, is that all you can come up with?”

         “Silence Robot Minion! Okay, it's a bad name.”

         “Not a bad as the first name you gave me.”

         “Hey, Robotic Robot wasn't that bad!” Doctor Waldon stomped his foot. “Maybe we can call it the Doomsday Slayer?”

         Robot Minion chuckled with the scratchy “ha, ha, ha” his voice chip allowed. “As in the device that slays Doomsdays? Didn't know that you were a supervillain into saving the world!”

        Waldon looked at his supervillain outfit and its overage of black and asked his minion. “How about Scary Shadowy Darkness? Sounds spooky right?”

       “Gee, that'd be nice, if your device didn't light everything on fire and make it the brightest doomsday in history...huh there have been a lot of doomsdays. Heroes thwart us villains way too often. Eh, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it boss.”

        Doctor Waldon smiled. “Of course. We'll defeat the heroes when the time is right. First I have to name everything. Gotta be as cool as all the other villains. Right Captain Robot-Man?”

Robot Minion replied, “Captain Robot-Man?”

       “It's your new name! Isn't it great? My first step into naming everything in here something cool.”

        Captain Robot-Man groaned with a static strain from his voice chip. “Boss, we're going to be here awhile.”

Today's #flashfiction #AlphabeticChaosAndOrder

“We can rebuild him, we have the technology.”

Humpty Dumpty* #quote

        Today I went to my card game thing. Talked with my friend Jessica as I usually do when there, we haven't been able to hang out at other times because work's been keeping her busy. (She works at an animal hospital and they took in extra kittens that have yet to find a home.) Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Alphabetic Chaos And Order

         “AFKGYUIJYOPRTU,” the alphabet soup said to Edwin Dalon, the orderly chef. It insulted him with the random nature of its distribution. Disgusting. No order. With luck he could use his spoon to fix the ugly thing and make few words. However all his fixes would swish and wash away as soon as he moved the bowl.

          Edwin Dalon's friend called him obsessive with the way he made sure everything fit right in place in an orderly fashion. He simply called himself sane.

          “When the pieces of a clock are out of place you say it's broken, right?” That's what Edwin would tell anyone who told him he was to obsessive with keeping things in order. And he felt the alphabet soup fit the nature of a broken clock. Giving such a thing to children! Every effort should be made to show the proper order of language, not this garbled mess. (Though he found the many inconsistencies in language to be offensive, going so far to invent his own to write a journal, poem, and then novels in.)

          The orderly chef decided he needed to fix this somehow. Destroy this monster. Be rid of it. He would hope he could take it behind his house and shoot it like a sick dog in a way that the children that adored it couldn't see.

He knew he couldn't just magically make all the alphabet soup in the world vanish. The only solution Edwin could think of was to create a replacement. Some sort of other alphabetic creation following order. Something that didn't swish around as a chaotic mess in a bowl. If parents would choose to give their children food holding letters in it, it would be his.

         The chef spent all his free time working to create his replacement for his enemy. Alphabet soup did however possess many powerful competitive properties. The food's sheer convenience made it attractive to the family. Also the “each time different” did provide some entertainment.

However the chef's experience in the food industry did lead him to an eventual answer. He would create alphabet crackers. Each would be imprinted with a letter and he would make different words come with the boxes. It would be different each time, but the word's would be organized.

         Sane as he put it.

         A company loved the idea put out the crackers as he designed them. Put an education spin on them as well. Mass production followed.

         Though Edwin profited financially from his venture he walked through the park one day and to his horror he saw his cracker creation being combined with the alphabet soup. Children enjoyed taking the words he carefully packaged and mixing them up with each other and soup. He not only created a new source of chaos by making something else the children could mix up, but it could combine with the chaotic creation he despised so greatly.

          Alphabet soup sales increased rapidly with the alphabet crackers supporting them in a new lunch phenomenon that struck a nation. The fad nearly drove Edwin mad.

          Order, chaos, what does it mean? Maybe that could be found in some alphabet soup.

Today's #flashfiction #ProcrastinatingInventor

“Failure is not an option!”

The Magic School Bus* #quote

       Well, had a fun time at my card game thing and tomorrow I got another, so more fun to be had there. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Procrastinating Inventor

        “I think I'll finish the time machine after the game is over,” said the lazy scientist.

        Tick-tock.

        “I think I'll finish the time machine after lunch,” said the lazy scientist.

        Tick-tock.

        “I think I'll finish the time machine after I check my email,” said the lazy scientist.

        Tick-tock.

        “I think I'll finish the time machine after I watch some T.V.” said the lazy scientist.

        Tick-tock.

        “I think I'll finish the time machine after dinner,” said the lazy scientist.

         Tick-tock.

         “I think I'll finish the time machine tomorrow,” said the lazy scientist.

         Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

          A week of laziness passes.

         “I think I'll finish the time machine Monday,” said the lazy scientist.

          Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock.

          A month of laziness passes.

         “I have to finish the time machine! The power source is growing unstable!” yelled the lazy scientist.

         Tick-tock!

         The after some hard, hasty word the sloppily constructed time machine started.

         “No, what's going on? That's not right! Did I make some sort of mistake?” the lazy scientist was pulled into a wormhole and twisted through time, his mind being wiped in the process.

         “I think I'll finish the time machine after the game is over,” said the lazy scientist.”

Today's #flashfiction #TwoSidesOfDreaming

“Philosophy is a kind of journey, ever learning yet never arriving at the ideal perfection of truth.”

Beavis, Beavis and Butthead* #quote

        CJ ain't coming over this weekend as originally planned. But I'll still be having fun at the card game thing and perhaps will be working on the costume armor with Dad as well. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Two Sides Of Dreaming

        Everyday after spending long hours in grade school a little girl would head home and go off to bed. After closing her eyes and relaxing people in white coats would whisk her to a terrifying lab and perform experiments. A dizzy experience similar to sedation filled her mind and she wished she could forget it.

        But it would always end and the little girl would head off to school and live as a little girl should. Between classes and whenever she could she would sneak try attempt to sleep to make up for the time the people in white coats.

        The strangest thing was that during her attempts to nap at school is when she often woke up. She eventually tried to never nap during school because she never wanted to wake up from dreaming when she spent all her waking hours in the lab with the people in white coats.

Today's #flashfiction #TheLifeAndTimesOfTheComputer

“Working at the car wash yeah!”

The Karate Kid* #quote

        Today I played around with a music making software. I've wanted to make music for awhile. I didn't take well to the program. I haven't picked up an instrument because the instruments I want to play are a bit hard to get a hold of. For example the Glass Armonica. (Instrument made by Benjamin Franklin) My family worked together to make a prototype ourselves but it doesn't function well enough to make good music. Another instrument I'm looking into is the Theramin, that might be fun.

       Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Life And Times Of The Computer

         Mr. Digital was one of many computers in an office. Life as a computer resembled that of a human yet differed completely. Throw out physical worries and the mental and the higher emotions that wreck a human mind day to day and a machine remains. Mr. Digital resembles someone running on pure instinct and habit, along with a rush of coffee that makes them never stop with whatever they are doing unless they completely crash.

        A computer's mind is born when it first turns on and each day it's mind is born anew. He follows each order and processes each input as fast as the wires running through him can. More faithful than Fido, Spot or Lassie. Yet each day Mr. Digital's mind dies when the power goes off.

       When the juice for a machine goes through it only the memory remains. Humans get granted subconsciousness and their soul continues to flow. The next day a new mind rises from the restarting machine. How much Mr. Digital could really be called Mr. Digital when he died the day before and is merely a new consciousness born from previous memories is a strange question indeed. One a computer would probably wish it could ask.

      Computers like Mr. Digital may not have as much of a soul as something like a person, or even and animal. They are in a competition with plants and rocks for the right to claim proof of mental awareness. Rocks are in dead last and some experts agree that they took a slight lead in front of plants. Perhaps that increases Mr. Digital's chances of getting into heaven. Depending on whatever happens to his soul when the power goes off.

      And no matter if it is the same Mr. Digital when the power comes back on or another, eventually the same thing happens to every computer. The power stops coming on.

Today's #flashfiction #SheWantedToSing

“It comes with a money back guarantee.”

Wile E. Coyote* #quote

Today I'm going to work with Dad on my costume armor. Anyway onto the flash fiction.

She Wanted To Sing

        A little girl named Samantha wanted to learn how to sing. She tried at the talent show in the little rose covered dress of hers and pigtails but she failed miserably. Her horrid singing voice scared animals and people had difficulty faking smiles for support and could only contort painful grimaces.

       But she kept trying. And trying. For a decade until she was sixteen. Her singing voice still rang just as horrible and sometimes even worse. It eventually began to humiliate her. Yet she desired to sing so much. Her mother sang her the most beautiful songs before passing away and she wanted to be able such great songs. Samantha adored the sounds that pulled her into sleep. And people knew what a great singer her mother was, she even made a living at it, which made her horrid voice even more offensive and an embarrassment.

        There existed more to this girl than a desire to sing. A brilliant mind with curiosity and talent in machines. One day when looking at a speaker one day she mixed the two parts of herself with a single idea. Samantha realized that maybe since some genetic accident robbed her of her mother's innate talent to sing and made her voice a nightmare she could just fix it. When people have bad legs they are replaced. She had a bad voice. She could replace that.

        She became obsessed with fixing her embarrassment. And out of fear someone would try to stop her she kept it a secret. She researched voice changing technology all through college and got a job in computers that let her work at home. But also she began to go to college to study medical disciplines afterward. Not for any degree. Just for her project. Though she all claimed it for just curiosity.

        Time and money manifested into a finished product after many failures and months of cycling despair and hope. It installed externally to her throat so she would have to do minimal surgery to herself. She only needed to numb herself with injections instead of hiring a surgeon and letting someone in on her secret. She home-brewed the painkillers.

       For her first performance in years she wore an extremely expensive scarf to hide the vocal device. The high price of the scarf was only to convince people that it was merely a fashion statement to wear even indoors and during hot days.

        She sung for her family first. It shocked them that she produced any noise that didn't terrify animals.  The device changed her voice to something divine when she sang. Even in the recital of something as simple as Mary Had A Little Lamb the family's hearts filled with a warmth similar to the sensation of solace next to a fireplace in winter.

        Over time Samantha's audience grew and she performed for the whole world. Even those that didn't understand her words became soothed by them. The fame and adoration made her happy and rich. She married a good husband, despite the Hollywood habits of messy divorces and dramatic matrimony.

        By the time she stood on the stage at the height of her fame when crowds cheered for her eagerly waiting for her to sing she had forgotten why she originally wanted to sing so badly.

Today's #flashfiction #DestinyGetsLazy

“High five!”

Edward Scissorhands* #quote

Today I traveled to the Middle Of Nowhere. Next time I'll try to remember to get a souvenir for you.

Destiny Gets Lazy

        Entrusted with the fates of people Destiny is a god who determines the course of lives. For eons she sat on her throne and worked her magic and thought long and hard about the cause and effect for every single person. She froze time and arranged the parts of people's souls so they move in just the right ways so their hearts would lead them down the right path.

         Then the world modernized. People became more than hunters and gatherers and society became a mess. Destiny's devotion to her work collapsed around the invention of the long distance communication and when people began to have more free time and they married for love. Manipulating their souls and hearts to move along the path she wanted became more difficult when the people had freedom.

         So she grew lazy and gave up. She now stood at her throne with a bundle of dice and throws it at the ground. The way it falls is how she sends her magic to push the people along. Her job is to make a path for people to follow and random emotional events to tug people fulfill her obligation to guide the populace down some road. “If only the new world wasn't so complicated!” is her excuse as she uses emotional trauma to do her old work for her.

         Though in the modern world many hearts are still too free for Destiny's influence to take them over.

Today's #flashfiction #AMostUselessSuperpower

“You only live once!”

Lazarus*

Today I almost danced. But I didn't. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

A Most Useless Superpower

         My name is Dr. Lookin and one day in a freak lab accident fate granted me a superpower. I became Eyes-In-The-Back-Of-My-Head-Man! Though later renamed to Visibility Man. I truly thought that maybe this would allow me to join the greatest heroes in their fights against crime.

         However many difficulties arise with this power. Keeping my secret identity involves careful grooming to put my hair over my eyes. Then I must care for the eyes in my head differently as they will be constantly exposed to hair and underexposed to light. I must also be very conscious of the eyes in the back of my head to avoid emoting with them. If they move too unnaturally then people may suspect me. I considered hair extensions, but any incidence of them falling off would lead to my secret identity being revealed.

         Then comes the actual usage of my power. I cover most of my head with a mask that has hair clips underneath to pull up the hair that conceals my second set of eyes. This is very uncomfortable. In the end though I do see more than the average man with my elaborate set up.

        I spend long hours learning kung-fu and other martial arts because I have no other powers. Not invincibility or flight or shape shifting or magic or gadgets.

        I try but usually the superhero teams leave me as lookout. At least I got a spot with the pros!

Today's #flashfiction #TheOverambitiousBird

“Happy Father's Day!”

Luke Skywalker* #quote

       Today for Father's Day we got Dad a book compiling all his artwork. He's done a lot of neat stuff, airbrushing is a the hobby of his. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Overambitious Bird

       A duck flew over the polar bears in the Arctic circle surrounding the North Pole. The bears weren't exactly sure what to think of such an animal. They'd never see it before. Was it food or predator? Certainly small enough to be food. But there instinct couldn't tell them whether or not the new animal was poison. They figured that maybe seals would still be the safest bet. When the bird landed the alpha polar bear spoke to it.

      “Who are you and where did you come from?”

       The duck quacked merrily and responded, “My name is Tuck the Duck! Everybody in my flock says I'm the hardest worker. So this year when we flew south for the winter I flew as far south as I could!”

       The polar bears in the Arctic around the North Pole couldn't decide whether to commend the duck's ambition or insult his stupidity.

Today's #flashfiction #TheTreasureChestDilemma

“Loreal hair gel, because I'm worth it.”

Albert Einstein* #quote

Well CJ won't be coming over this weekend, what a pity, but I still do have many other things to amuse myself with. Perhaps I will travel to another dimension and party with robot aliens.

The Treasure Chest Dilemma

       Sir Edward and Lady Hope were two knights of incredible strength and skill who after their service to the kingdom in the war against the dragons became adventurers. They traveled far and wide, saving many lands from disasters(for the right price), and raided ancient temples, caves and dungeons filled with monsters for loot. They now both stared at a massive treasure chest in one of these many dungeons they raided, the basement levels of a castle of a powerful sorcerer.

        “No, you open it,” said Lady Hope.

        “Please, Ladies first. I insist.” Sir Edward bowed then smiled. The treasure chest stood on a pedestal and its massive size resembled a cow.

         She replied, “No, please, the strong manly man should open the large treasure chest.”

         Edward pointed at the chest and said, “Hope there is no way I am opening that for you.”

         The Lady Knight replied, “But I already used my magic bracelet to check for curses and we've looked everywhere for traps.”

         The Sir Knight countered, “Which is why we both know for a fact there is a trap! Why would a powerful sorcerer leave the largest treasure chest in his dungeon completely unguarded? There must be some protection beyond our comprehension on that box.”

         Hope told Edward, “So you, as the superior knight should open the chest.”

         Edward countered, “You know we are both equally skilled!”

        Lady Hope replied, “Yeah, well, sure. But you should still open it.”

        Sir Edward said, “No, you open it.”

        They kept bickering next to the chest for about thirty minutes.

        “We seem to have reached a bit of a problem,” They both spoke in unison. They hadn't adventured with each other for a decade without becoming linked on some mental level.

         “There is a simple solution.” Sir Edward smiled a wicked smile.

         “So you are thinking what I'm thinking.” Lady hope smiled just like her partner.

The spoke in unison again, “We get someone else to open it!”

         They soon hired a villager and took him into the dungeon and brought him to the chest. They paid him a handsome amount to open the chest claiming they simply couldn't lift it while wearing their armor. The villager was also the village numbskull. (The village idiot was too bright to fall for that.)

         He touched the chest and instantly burst into flames.

         Sir Edward took a glance at Hope and commented, “Yeah, not touching that chest.”

         “Then to the next dungeon!” The Lady Knight exclaimed.

Today's #flashfiction #TheEnigmaticDemon

“The fork ran away with the spoon.”

The Matrix* #quote

       Tomorrow CJ might come over so I'll have to see if that happens. It'd be nice, as a happy hang out would be a good mood change since seizures were up today but I'm sure I'd be good with entertaining myself otherwise since I got my card game thing and plenty of other things to do. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Enigmatic Demon

       I am confronted with the most horrible and strange of demons . It howls with a breath that only breathes in, never out. It is tall, slender, hairless, eyeless. Sleek and almost entirely black. The thing is cold to the touch. Only a single limb comes out from the creature. A slim tail with three spikes on the end. Every time I see the terrifying beast I yell out to warn my family and friends of its presence and also out of a futile hope I can scare it away. I know I cannot harm it.

      “Calm down Spot, it's just the vacuum cleaner.” My best friend tells me. I keep warning him the best I can.

Today's #flashfiction #TheIllusionistMeetsTheWizard

“C'mon, I dare you.”

Jiminy Cricket* #quote

        Today I'm going to work with my father on my costume armor. The thing's a beast of a job. We haven't even finished the helmet yet. But it's going to look amazing in the end and there's already intense coolness coming from the parts finished. Lots of sanding as we're not making it out of metal but plastic you use on cars and stuff and the similar painting techniques to give it that kind of shine.

The Illusionist Meets The Wizard

       “Yes, people have called me one of the greatest magicians in the world, but I don't think I'm a wizard like you.” Illusionist Daniel Grey had been inside many deathly dangerous escape acts in his career. It allowed him to feel calm even when he saw the man with the dragon in front of him. The escape acts taught the magician the valuable lesson that as long as he remained calm and in control he should fear nothing. If the wizard is some wrathful man ready to turn someone into a toad then the conversation is a web a chains he must navigate and escape to safety with careful words.

      Daniel Grey wore the suit he put on for the performance. The wizard cornered him next to his dressing room after the act finished. From the wizard's face hung one of the long white beards expected of them, but otherwise the wizard wore street clothes. Though the blue t-shirt and blue jeans did match the color palette of typical caster robes.

     “But I have watched you use your spells several times. You must be a wizard.”

Daniel Grey merely shook his head. “It is merely a trick Sir. Not real magic. Just an illusion.” He looked at the dragon. He didn't want to patronize the wizard with his explanation to avoid offending him and causing him to sic his dragon on him or casting some terrible curse.

      The wizard put his hand on his chin. “But that's impossible. How could you teleport someone from one side of the room to the other without magic? And all those other things you did?”

      Grey told the wizard. “I'm sorry but it's a bit of a rule that a magician doesn't reveal his tricks.”

     “You just told me it wasn't magic!”

     “It's trick magic. Kind of like how fast food joints are mistaken for real food. If I tell you how my magic works you might tell someone else. And that'll ruin my job. My magic is no longer magic when people know how it works.”

      The wizard thought then a wicked smile spread across his face. Daniel wondered if the wizard planned some sort of curse. “How about a deal? A wizard like myself must know about all kinds of magic. I won't tell anyone how your magic works. But also in exchange for you teaching me all your secrets I will teach you magic.”

     “Deal!”

      Daniel now wondered what kind of magic would come into his new act. And if the wizard could summon fire that might save him money on pyrotechnics.

Today's #flashfiction #TheReapersEnd

“Peek-a-boo!”

The Lockness Monster* #quote

      Today I went to the dentist. Had a few seizures in the chair but fortunately nothing came of it and then were small shakes so when I raised my hand(a cue worked out beforehand) they pulled out their instruments quickly enough. They've dealt with crazy squealing kids that move more than a seizure so I figured it'd be fine.

The Reaper's End

       I'm The Grim Reaper and I've taken soul after soul into the after life. They struggle, cry, and sometimes in the worst of cases smile, as I place my flesh-less hand on them. I don't remember when I started doing my work, or why I keep doing it. I feel compelled to. It's just what I do to grab the souls and pull them with me into a door full of light. I emerge a moment later. I never remember what happens in the door. It vanishes, and I continue my work out of an inclination like an itch I must scratch. I've grown numb to any disgust at death after whatever eons I must have been doing this.

       One day though, after I pulled a child into the door, I saw a skeleton draped in the same black robe as mine.

      He laughed. “I never thought I would see shock expressed on the face of a skeleton. Pull up your jaw you look ridiculous,” He spoke calmly as my skull clattered when I closed my mouth. “It seems you honestly thought that you worked alone. With all the people in the world were you so foolish as to think that one person could take them all? Were you figuring that you'd get to them all eventually?”

      If I could I would have expressed shame in a face I wished I had. “Well, I dunno, I've gone to different times before, I just thought it was job over eternity or something.”

     “No. Now enough small talk. Time to go.”

     I then felt a feeling about death I hadn't grown numb to during my work. Fear. I saw so much death that seeing it stopped disgusting me, but I never had been confronted with my own. And a Reaper, now that I saw that others existed, seemed like the only possibility for me.

I yelled to him, “I don't want to go!”

      He laughed again. “You must know by now that doesn't work.” He approached me and grabbed me with the same magic touch that I used to paralyze the souls I took away to the light. Would I now learn what was in the light if anything at all? The door appeared and he tossed me in.

I'll let you souls who have yet to be grabbed by a Reaper to find out on your own what is in the light when you join me. Until then, live happily, as you have a life better than what mine was.

Today's #flashfiction #TheNegativeWishGenie

“Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

Johnny Storm* #quote

Today I called CJ. He might come over this weekend. We'll see when the weekend comes!

The Negative Wish Genie

         “I will grant you negative three wishes!” The genie barked at me angrily as he emerged from the light bulb in the old lamp I bought at the garage sale. The big green man of a mythical creature glared me down. About nine feet tall as he stretched his arms he almost hit the ceiling of my apartment. He wore a white robe that draped over his tense muscles. He walked towards me and I could hear the floor bending under his weight, as if the genie's body built itself not from flesh but stone. “What are you're negative wishes girl!?”

         The way he yelled “girl” at me brought back memories I'd rather not remember and made the creature far more terrifying. Made him a monster. Like the man in the alleyway that leaped out at me and said, “You've got pretty jewelry and even prettier blonde hair. Give me the jewels and come with me nice and quietly and everything will only hurt a little, I promise.” The person who saved me is now my fiancee and took a bullet so...things...wouldn't happen to me. Why isn't he here to help me with this beast?

       “Your negative wishes girl!”

It took me a moment of deep breaths, but I managed to look the genie in the eyes with my own. We both had a light blue, though I could see clouds in his like the sky.

        “Negative wishes?”

        “Now you listen you simple girl. I hate repeating myself.” The creature's hair transformed into a strange purple flame. “You have purchased, and therefore taken ownership, of the cursed lamp. Until you have made three negative wishes or passed the lamp onto another your future children will be cursed to die young and every person you touch will grow to hate you.”

Okay, I'm a smart girl, sophomore in college. Whatever these negative wishes are I'm certain I can think my way out of them. Can't be harder than Trigonometry.

       “Alright, I think I can take them.”

       The genie laughed. “Being pulled out of my home made me angry but your hubris is a nice joke that put me in a bit of a better mood. Trust me, nobody gets past the first. They try, but I will twist your words and make you suffer and you will not want to make another wish because my job is to make sure that you fail. A negative wish is that you must wish for something to not happen. And one rule is that if you cause a paradox, use a double or any multiple negative, or break the lamp, you die.”

The genie loomed over me. He used his shadow almost like a spell to seal my morale in some sort of enchantment. But I wouldn't let him win.

     “In thirty seconds I wish for you to not move for thirty seconds.” I used my first wish. Sounds safe enough. Nothing happens instantaneously. He'll just sit still a moment. And I got one off the list.

      Oh, wait, crap!

       I jump out of the way as the genie hurtles through my apartment and goes through my door, destroys it and flies off to who knows where. He must have been made of something otherworldly to demolish everything like that. He tore through my couch and half of the things in my apartment.

After thirty seconds he reappeared into my home in a puff of smoke.

He stomped towards me and his voice boomed. “Not as smart as you think you are little girl!? The fact that you survived the first wish angers me quite. If you survive the second I will be quite, quite upset.”

        I'm glad I figured my mistake out. He took at as completely still, not even orbiting with the Earth. So the entire world kept going. Really to say he went through anything was false. The world went through him as it orbited around the Sun. I wonder how much he demolished as the planet went around and spun.

        The next moment I thought of wishes for him not to breathe. But then I realized that if he doesn't breathe then I'd cause a paradox and die. Or if he dies then I wouldn't be able to make the last wish and be stuck with the curse.

        I spent a great deal of time thinking, trying to come up with my next wish.

        I then said to him, “I wish that you were not my enemy.”

        The genie responded, “You think that you're so clever hmmm? Well then, I will grant your wish. But that does not mean that you've won.”

         The genie vanished. I first felt terrified. Did I lose? Would I be unable to make my last wish? But instead the genie replaced by a shorter one, exactly the same in appearance and demeanor though, just a huge seven foot instead of the massive nine.

       “Are humans clever enough to expect a clone? Sure younger, but I'm similar and know enough of my, um, father's tricks to beat you.” This new genie snickered. “Oh, yeah. Try to recycle that 'not your enemy wish and I'll make your enemy a meteor to your face.”

        “Um, erh, uggghhhhh....I wish to for the soda machine outside to be not broken!” Then another thought hit me. “And then I will buy you a free soda and lunch!”

        The younger, less malicious clone genie responded, “Deal! I mean, your wish is my command! The soda machine is fixed. Now the curse is broken! You are free of darkness! Yay!”

Today's #flashfiction #Takeover

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

Blues Clues* #quote

       I didn't do too to well at the card game tournament, got second to last. (Cj getting dead last) there weren't that many people though. Probably all the usual card players went to the tourney later in the day or Comicon or something and it was a smaller event. Overall I also faced terrible matchups for my deck. (Since in Pokemon everyone makes their own deck of cards of what they choose I could face many different things. There is an element of chance of what kind of person with what kind of strategy

I face. My opponents had decks good against mine.)

       Plus I was set up against CJ once. He knew what my strategy was so all the element of surprise of my wacky deck was lost and I knew that his strategy was good against mine. It was bad being set against my friend since that meant that one of us had to be lower in standings.

       At this tournament I did learn how much of my weaknesses my deck could handle and how I could change it. Maybe I'll do a lot better next time. Another good thing is that seizures were down for the weekend. I didn't even have a single one during the tournament. Would have been awkward if my cards flew out of my hands or something.

      Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Takeover

       Last I remembered the news talked about the aliens bombing the White House and releasing gases on the cities. Now I looked around. I can see much wider than I should. I can stare in three directions at once. Do I have three eyes? They're horizontal. Am I dreaming?

      My surroundings are simply just my living room. Couch, TV, and the few shelves I put DVDs and video games on. I always wished I owned a bigger home. I laid on the floor. I only managed to stand using my arms. Arms now hairless and scaled with six fingers.

       The arms made it a bit more obvious. Dream or not I lived in the body of one of the aliens. Turning my head downward to see the thin torso of their body and the long muscular eight-legs of their species confirmed this. I hated how natural standing and walking like a spider came to me as I moved around like an explanation could be found on the floor like some sort of note.

        One of the aliens walked into the room through the hallway that led to my bedroom. Had he been searching through my things? Examining me?

        “Ah, hello,” he greeted me in plain English. They learned it before attacking us. “Don't worry you're perfectly safe. Over time we've realized that slavery and oppression is a bad long-term bad economical investment as we expand our empire. Revolutions, civil-war and all that. So we prefer to bring a species into our own. Your brain is just as it was before, only everything else was changed. You and Earth are now reborn under our glorious empire with all the technological wonders we have.”

       Looking at my hand I knew that I still had to die first to be reborn.

Today's #flashfiction #OptimisticHamlet

“I'm not sure if this is my color.”

Gandalf the White* #quote


Still hanging with CJ today, so here's a flash fiction from the archives for ya. I changed some lines to make it better so if you've got a hardcore enough of a memory to recall all those months and hundreds of stories back maybe you can spot the difference!

Optimistic Hamlet

         Hey my name's Steve, time traveling, extra dimensional ghost with psychic powers able to allow me to read and manipulate the minds of all people. So yeah, I'm just touring the ages and I run across this really sad guy named Hamlet having the most depressing internal monologue. So depressing it just stopped me right in my tracks.

To be, or not to be that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles

And by opposing end them. To die, to sleep

No more and by a sleep to say we end

The heartache, and the thousand natural shocks

That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a consummation

Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep

To sleep perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub,

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come

When we have shuffled off this mortal coil...

       And that was no where near the end of it the poor guy. He just kept going on with this mental contemplation, and it was about suicide! Poor fella. Normally I don't interfere with things but I decided I would go back in time and fix his attitude and his monologue up a bit.

To be or not to be that is the question:

A question I shouldn't worry about,

Because I'm already pretty sad already.

My week can't get any worse anyway.

       There all better. Well, I'm going to time travel to the 70's for a quick disco dance or two. I don't know what he was so depressed about but I think he should be fine.

Today's #flashfiction #LordBlorgfLovesYou

“You have to think of it from their perspective.”

M. C. Escher* #quote

Today CJ is over and we gotta get ready for the card game tournament doohicky thing and it's first thing in the morning. I didn't have enough time to write a story because of that so here's one from the archives for y'all.

Lord Blorgf Loves You!

        “Today kids we're here to talk about how much Lord Blorgf loves you!” said a man in a full dog body suit. The body suit was well designed to be as non-threatening and kid friendly as possible and it worked.   Little Jimmy along with every other kid in America watched the show eagerly and fully entranced. (Though the colorful spinning patterns behind the dog helped) other countries watched different versions with different actors in different costumes, but it all had the same effect. Every child was required to watch the show every day at the appointed time in their country. “And why does Lord Blorgf love you?”

         “Because he's the kindest being in all the world!” little Jimmy responded in synch with other children's voices already recorded into the show to help him along just in case he didn't know what to say.

        “And how much does he love you?” the “dog” asked.

        “He loves us with all six of his hearts! He cares about us more than anything else!” Little Jimmy yelled excitedly. In school they disciplined him harshly if he ever raised his voice. The show was the only time he was allowed to raise his voice so he really got into it.

        “And when did he start loving us?” the man asked.

        “As soon as he landed here in the year two thousand fifty seven!” Little Jimmy answered.

        “And how did he first show his love?” the man continued to test the children's knowledge.

        “He got rid of the Presidents, Prime Ministers, and all the other nasty people who were controlling our countries but didn't love us.” Little Jimmy smiled because he knew his history.

        “Yes, he showed us he loved us because he protected us from them.” the man told them. “He always works very hard to protect us, especially from ourselves. Because he loves us. Why does he make sure we read only the right things, write only the right things, listen to only the right things, sing about the right things, see the right things, paint the right things, sculpt the right things, play the right games, watch the right shows, dance the right way, and talk about the right things?”

         “To make sure we think about the right things so we don't make mistakes!” Little Jimmy said alongside the recorded children in the show.

         “Exactly! All because Lord Blorgf loves you!” the man in the dog suit said in a chipper voice.