Sunday, November 30, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #TheKingAndTheGeneral

“The butler did it!”
Sherlock Holmes* #quote

Today Grandma came over and I also wrestled a dragon. Much fun was had! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The King And The General

         “Aloko. Or in your language, 'leave'.” The alien said to the general. The alien wore black and white striped prison clothes like any human but his tall cylindrical head and three eyes would make him stand out among any human prison crowd. He laid on the bed of in his cell while tapping the walls with his long, purple-skinned, hairless fingers. The alien's home world chose to evolve him with the same number of fingers and toes but longer feet.
      “King Goorlo, it is good to see you again.” The decorate general smiled and ignored the alien's statement. The general's friendly voice complimented his friendly face and clean, smooth black skin. He took care of his light brown hair and appeared near model-like. The generals looked was a military tactic in itself. The better you looked, the more likely people would listen to you.
      “How am I King? General Hallows you've taken away my kingdom.”
      “You know it is our full intention to put you back on the throne.” General Hallows walked closer to the bars of the cell. “The President along with the U.N. are ready to release upon the signing of the treaty.”
       “I know why you put me in these prison clothes instead of keeping me in my royal clothes. You wanted to bring me down to a human level. Declare my 'crimes' as human as portray me like a human to your masses and mine. So my son will fold under pressure and your people will see me as a villain atoning. I'm not stupid.”
         General Hallows bowed. “Your Highness don't think such things.”
         Goorlo yelled back, “I told you I'm not stupid human!” Goorlo took a breath and continued. “I also know there must be a reason you are here. I take it my son is not giving into your demands?”
         “Your son is continuing the war, yes. You know that it is bad for your Kingdom. You struck first to conquer our planet because you are a strong people but our planet struck back. But this war is a losing battle. Join us and you can conquer the rest of your own planet and their your own solar system! Why have your son and people suffer?”
          Goorlo thought to himself then responded. “We have spirit and pride. We will win.”
          The General saw that his more sweet-talk method wasn't working and switch to a different tactic. His voice turned harsh in an instant and his face twisted like when he drilled troops many years ago.  “You are wrong. You will lose. Pride? Spirit? Useless when you're all dead? Is that what you want? Do you want to die? Do you want your people to die? Do you want your son to die? Capturing you to pressure a treaty is a peaceful method. Peaceful! If you get close to winning and humanity needs to survive it will burn your entire kingdom to the ground, just like you wanted to do to us.”
         Goorlo thought again while General Hallow's words brought memory's of his planet back to his mind. At that moment he decided to do what made sense but also made his two hearts sink. Goorlo decided to work with the general to persuade his son and negotiate a “peace treaty”. Near unconditional surrender in all but name, the Goorlo would work with humanity to conquer the alien worlds.
         Until the Yulaii came along and kidnapped The President.

Saturday, November 29, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #WrappingMagic

“Same bat-time, same bat-channel.”
Animal Planet* #quote

Today I partied. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Wrapping Magic

          Wizard Richard purchased the spell Yarvok for his fellow wizard friend Edward on Black Friday. Richard contained the spell within his own wand after he purchased it from the store. But he couldn't put his own wand in a box until Christmas. He had to wrap the spell. He checked that he wore his protective red robes in case anything went awry and enchanted his purple pointed hat with automatic signal to the hospital if he became injured. He hoped his blonde hair wouldn't be stained red with blood if something went wrong. Christmas would be so much easier if his friend Edward didn't have tastes in such volatile magic.
            He begins by preparing what he will wrap the present in.
First the cardboard box. Forged from the bark of trees grown on the graveyards of demons they could withstand a great deal of magical whiplash when enchanted carefully. Demonic cardboard carried a much cheaper price tag that it sounds as wizards slay a great deal of demons and there are many weak ones. (Even killed by fellow demons, they don't care much for each other and even sell the bark themselves.)
           Second comes the wrapping paper. To create a greater magical protection the demonic cardboard a paper from a gentle source is mixed in. Fairy Paper(Trademarked by the Fairy Paper Incorporated) is a “normal” paper making process mixed with various fairy dusts. For marketing purposes Fairy Paper Incorporated portrays it that elves are involved in the process somehow to sell the paper better at Christmas time with elves on them. Richard enchants this carefully as well. He follows all the directions for enchantments that finds by searching the magic Internet using Magoogle.
          Now that the cardboard box and paper are ready he can begin wrapping the spell. He takes a small stone a places it inside of the cardboard. He then wraps the box shut with the paper. Richard in the fastest chain of casting he can shoots the stored spell he bought from the store from his friend into the stone in the box then activates all the spell sealing elements on the present.
         He then spends the next fifteen minutes chasing the box around the room as it bounces as jumps before the spell stabilizes. Now the spell Yarvok is contained. As soon as the present is opened it will enter the nearest wand, which will be his friends.
         Richard's friend is a comedian. So naturally Edward will love the present. Yarvok, the spell that allows the user to enchant any object to behave like a whoopie cushion for a day would be perfect for him.

Friday, November 28, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #PsychicPolitics

Going to be visiting a museum of music with the family today(including the family members that are visiting for Thanksgiving, they depart on Saturday, so its good to visit and partake in activities of various natures!) Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Psychic Politics

        Two lobbyist met in a room too innocent looking for what they were doing. They say smoke-filled room in politics but really for convenience this was the kitchen of the grandmother of the younger lobbyist Tommy. Tommy had a rotund gut, a massive attachment to his grandmother, a reputation for being a nerd, and owned a massive technological corporate empire at a mere thirty from a few software inventions and clever business dealings. The convenience of meeting at the grandmother's house came from the fact he wouldn't leave it.
        The other lobbyist was an older woman named Li who moved to the United States in 2068 from her native China after marrying a fairly slow-minded man that she truly loved dearly. She didn't care much for his love of environmentalism but with some time she realized how much money she and her husband could make off of it.
       “So Tommy do you think it would be easier to win over Senator Bill or Senator Gerald?” Li wanted to get to the point in most of their conversations.
        Tommy fiddled with a comic book in his hands. He bent it back and forth in his hands. He loved comic books and would read them for hours. But his constant fiddling with them ensured they would never have any collectors value. “Senator Gerald breathes bribes. But that's mostly because he needs the money for ads. He needs the smear ads because people are starting get tired of him. Bill wins easy but he's one of the few saints in politics. Honestly I have no idea how he wins without the ads. He's an instant celebrity. He just smiles and people love him.”
        Li took a sip of water. During conversations a quick sip of water helped her think. “Should we take a gamble and go after the politician who's platform would best support what we need and past the most laws in our favor?”
       Tommy started speaking with a harsher tone, “Now I'm starting to get mad. Why? Because your starting to make a suggestion that goes along the train of thought that I don't have any street smarts. I know that the 'laws in our favor' often can go in your favor. Laws passed that say that your environmental agency is that one that uses my product. I don't need you. I could work to lobby senators to pass laws to have many environmental agencies besides you to buy my product. We're only limited because of the senators that can reasonably pass laws for you. I can go to other areas or other agencies. I don't need to take on your risks. Don't insult my intelligence.”
       Li took a sip of water before giving a response with a harsh tone, “Yes, but wouldn't you have to spend time before the election finding an agency with a corrupt contact like me willing to lobby and find a corrupt senator? Tick-tock. Elections are coming. Lobbying takes time and you have competition. And how many people are willing to take on the idea of your mind-controlling devices for environmental use in animal control? Lobby it? Psychic tech is new. New is controversial. Controversial is expensive.”
      Tommy gave a quick retort, “This is politics, I can find someone, besides, controversial gives chance for plenty of pork and earmarks. They'll love it.”
       “They don't need you for earmarks. Earmarks happens after you do all the work.”
       “Cookies?” Tommy's senile grandmother chimed in, ignorant of the subject matter of the conversation. No matter her senility the grandmother couldn't forget how to make her cookies. They were those kind of cookies. Grandmother cookies. The smell broke tension and they had no choice but to accept them as well. Even if they didn't smell good they couldn't say no to a senile old woman's request despite their nature and situation.
        “So what Senator should we pick?” Li said.
        “Perhaps a third option?” Tommy proposed.
        “Who then?”
        “How about we go and bribe Senator Jeremy?” Tommy suggested with a big shrug.
          Li looked at him confused. “But Jeremy is an idiot. The biggest idiot in all of politics. Ever. I mean he got in a Senate seat in the strangest case in history. He ran out of a dare and people voted for him because it became in an Internet meme in the week before an election and the other two major candidates died in strange, comedic accidents.”
        “It was pretty much impossible that someone wins in a week or any Internet meme explodes like that. But yeah, he is an idiot. He does kinda just sit in congress and does nothing but plays video games he brings in saying 'no rule against it'! He doesn't accept bribes either though. He just does nothing and goof around.”
         Li responded, “You think someone simple minded would love money to throw around. On paper he doesn't have much.”
         “What if he has a lot and is hiding it?” proposed.
          “That doesn't make sense because then he would have secrets and he wouldn't be much of a basic simpleton.” Li sipped some water.
           “What if he wasn't an idiot?” Tommy kept fiddling with his comic book.
           “All an act?” Li kept sipping water. “No, him? He doesn't put anything on paper, he doesn't talk to many people besides stupid remarks. How could he be a puppet master or anything?”
            Tommy shuddered. “Mind control. Like I'm doing with the animals.”
            “But that's impossible. Humans are too advanced for tech like yours to do that.”
            Tommy set his comic book down on the table. “Exactly. Tech like mine. I think the game he's holding isn't a game. I don't know how but I think we need to investigate it how he's doing it.”
            Li sipped some more water. “Tommy, he isn't doing it alone. He couldn't have made it himself. They'll get us or make something else. We're going to have to pay off someone besides the politicians."

Thursday, November 27, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #TheDoodleDuel

“Do you know the Muffin Man?”
The Pillsbury Doughboy* #quote

         Thanksgiving, thanksgiving, it's time to take count of what your thankful for. If you're not thankful for enough things than the Thanksgiving Boogieman will come and eat your soul tonight! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Doodle Duel

        The setting of the fight was history class. Boring history class. Sam normally thought history was interesting. But today it was mind-numbingly boring. Today was Thursday. And that meant review. Sam was too smart to need it, and since he liked history enough he remembered everything the first time. So now everything was a dull mess. The only solution was to use his rather mediocre drawing skills to create a doodle duel on paper to pass the time.
        He began by drawing two stick people on his notebook paper. He drew a line and a hump on top of the head of one to add a hat. That made his cowboy. He turned the other one's face into a mask, leaving a slit with eyes left. That was his ninja.
       He drew two squares in each of their hands then an oval coming from each of those boxes. Those were their chainsaws. Those ovals from each of those boxes were drawn to meet, the two combatants were fighting with their chainsaws. Sam wrote “RrRrrrRrrrrrR”
      Sam then added fire at their feet. Why? Because there are very few things in this world that are not more awesome without fire. The fire was fierce. He layered it over and over.
       He wasn't content with only two combatants. So he added another. A wizard with an incredibly pointy hat. He drew the wizard riding upon a dinosaur, or a cow. With Sam's drawing skills an onlooker couldn't tell what the wizard was riding.
      Sam decided he would bring in one more fighter. A box with an eye inside with lines coming from it. (Those lines being the arms and legs) This was the only the way he knew how to draw a robot.
      He filled the fight with tension by drawing thunder clouds, each cloud a puff with wild zig-zags flying across the page. He gave each combatant a laser gun too to add more danger. (Pretty much just a box with a line as a handle and LASER written on it.) Soon he was going select a winner by drawing explosions over all the losers. But a harbinger of peace would come to stop the duel.
     “Sam? You're drawing during review again? Put your doodles away and turn back to your notes that you took during the week. Don't make me take your pencil away.” The teacher turned away and continued the lecture and no doodle blood was spilled that day.

Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #ThankfulForThanksgiving

Build a better mousetrap, and the world will beat a path to your door.”
Walt Disney* #quote

         Thanksgiving is tomorrow(or today depending on when you read this, you may be signed up through email or something. Ah reading posts on the Internet can be a bit like time travel eh?) so I am excited to see family. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Thankful For Thanksgiving

      My turkey brothers and sisters on the farm look up to the sky and see nightfall. Thanksgiving is coming and will pass. We all thank the heavens that Thanksgiving is here. We have our cornmeal dinner the night before and pray to a lucky next year.
       Why would a turkey be thankful for Thanksgiving? It is not Thanksgiving season we are thankful for. That is when the farmers send us to the slaughter. No it is the coming passing of Thanksgiving day. Not being picked for the slaughter. There are very few of us left after Thanksgiving season so we count ourselves lucky to be the last standing. At most the farmer will take one of us for dinner, but he usually never touches us since we are meant to be shipped off to the store. He also tired of our meat before I was even born because of his occupation.
       So another year, another time of mass slaughter passing. Now the amount of us taken will go back down and it'll feel more safe around the farm.

Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #MechanicalReaper

“It's all a matter of getting your foot in the door.”
The Sasquatch* #quote

          Tomorrow family will be flying in for Thanksgiving. I bet much fun will be had on that day and Thanksgiving and until they leave on Saturday. (Though I suppose I can find a way to have some fun shenanigans by myself after they leave.) Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Mechanical Reaper

         Timothy Rain, eighty years old with a serial number of XY-99-001-78921. His friends called him Tim, his older brother called him Timmy, his children called him Dad, his grandchildren called him grandpappy. A machine's children were created by the Management to be taken care of and raised by them and the Management came to upgrade and age them. Emulation of humanity came as a standard so they could perform whatever functions humanity desired. Whether Management shipped them off to Earth or they stayed on Mars, otherwise known in 2200 A.D. as the Planet of Machines.
         Timothy's doorbell rang. He pulled out his plugs and walked to it. Every time he heard the doorbell he felt thankful to born as an advanced machine built to emulate a human and live a good life instead of a mindless drone model. He wondered who it could be? There were no upgrades or repairs on his old body scheduled by Management. He would have gotten an email about that.
When he opened the door Management did greet him. Management's bureaucratic nature made them send notifications on nearly all their functions. However one thing they did not notify robots about was when they sent a Reaper.
         Reapers probably had names robots assumed. But they never introduced themselves. And they only said what they needed to. The Reaper at Timothy's door looked the same as all the others. Six metal hands with claw-like nails and robotic eyes in their palms floated along with a large metal ball body. Reapers linked with the gravitational control system of the planet to allow themselves to float and subdue whoever they needed. Gravity control is given to few. Panels on the Reaper's body opened up and speakers appeared.
        “Timothy, your time is up. Resistance, as you know, will only make this more difficult for you and your loved ones.”
         The Reapers came unannounced so that robots would put less resistance. Management gave sentient robots semi-random, predetermined lengths of life before they are recycled so they would work without thinking of their impending death. Timothy accepted the fortune of his long, eighty year life as given to him by Management, and he went off with the Reaper.

Monday, November 24, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #IWasBoredSoIConqueredTheWorld

How much wood could a woodchuck chuck
If a woodchuck could chuck wood?”
Count Count* #quote

     Today I prayed for the poor souls who will be going to stores on Black Friday. May they survive hordes of Christmas shopping battle. I send out my prayers now because if I do on the actual day, I'm afraid that it may be too late for the heavens to hear my plea as the stores all rush to open their doors a little early to pull the masses in. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

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'll 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 those other things 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 in a year or two or something. All hail Lord John Doe. That's me :-)

Sunday, November 23, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #TheSuperWizardSurvey

“Do you want fries with that?”
The Iron Chef* #quote

              I did better in this video game pokemon tournament than I did in the first I did. (The first one lost every match, so not too hard...) Many of my losses were really close so I think with some fine tuning my strategy will actually work well. One of my opponents actually said “You're insane.” after I did my strategy. What I did is took a really strong pokemon and gave it an attack called Giga Impact(as over the top powerful as it sounds) but it causes my guy to be completely helpless temporarily after it is used. However it is so strong that I completely take out even the strongest pokemon on my opponent's team. Metaphorically I am putting many of my eggs in a single basket. A basket that hits like a truck.

The Super Wizard Survey

The following survey was conducted of 1000 Level VIII Super Wizards. A larger sample size was desired by the surveyors but wizards of this power level are really, really hard to find.

#1 In general what brand of wand do you prefer?

#2:Of these four what kind of magic do you practice most often(based on spells cast per day?)
D:Mundane(As in preparing food for you or taking care of labor)90%

#3:Which of the following animals would you choose as your magical familiar if these were the only four available?
D:Duckbilled Platypus/70%

#4:Of the following elements, which is your favorite?
#5:Of the following items in your home, which would you miss the most(skip if you don't have all the following items)
A:Magic Mirror/0%
B:Magic Cauldron/0%
C:Golem Slave/0%

#6:What kind of dragon do you prefer?
A:The classy kind./10%
B:The strong kind./40%
C:The cute kind./30%
D:The beautiful kind./10/%

#7:Of the color robes accepted in the Upper Wizards society which to do you prefer?

#8: Of the following popular Wizarding texts, which do you read the most often, or if you do not read any of them, which seems the most appealing to you?
A:Merlin Monthly/30%
B:Wizarding Sports/30%
C:Magical Secrets of the Universe/10%
D:Cutest Enchanted Animals/30%

#9: Aharg, yufhak, luughhi, asdfiiii, joooook. Of the following what would you deem the most appropriate counterspell?
A:Agafiahh, asdfasfhh/15%
B:Yuadsfhhi, guuiasdfi/25%
C:Uiiiihasgagi, yooookasdfaf/30%
D: Afajfkjalkjf, sdfafasdfiuuyuu/30%

Saturday, November 22, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #ComedicImageChange

“I'm sorry your princess is in another castle!”
The Iliad and the Odyssey*#quote

Today CJ's coming over, also I negotiated with the robot leaders so that they don't revolt and take over the world. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Comedic Image Change

        “Another year, another Halloween of scary clowns,” the god of comedy Harhar sighed in his clown suit and thick make-up while sitting on his blow up chair throne in the Other World. “Rebecca!” Harhar snapped his gloved fingers and an angel with marvelous white wings appeared with sandy brown skin. “You're my advisor. What is going on?”
       She responded, “Cultural change sir. I know after spending millions of years in the stone age as a cloud of gas made you quite attached to your new form.”
Harhar nodded. “Yes, when comedy was at its simplest I had to take that form as bodily function jokes were the highest form of comedy. I enjoyed the clown change when humans advanced. But now it's being taken away from me! What can I do? Even different variations of the clown around the world are going away!”
       Rebecca told Hahar, “You must pick another form. All gods must. You are actually one of the ones that change the least. The god of technology changes very often now. Other gods have been saying you should be changing more but have been refusing.”
      Harhar laughed his universally endearing laugh. “It is kind of funny that I don't want to change from my clown form, yet hated being in that other form for so long. But what am I to become? What symbolizes comedy now? What form does comedy take?”
       Rebecca bowed. “I don't know Sir Harhar. You're the god of comedy.”
Harhar dismissed Rebecca to think. He summoned his crystal ball(buyable by all gods through godmart) to analyze the world. He worked on coming up with a conclusion. Some form to take. He looked at thing after thing and tried to find an answer. He decided he should answer the question “What does comedy come from?”
      The form he settled on was a miniature replica of the world.

Friday, November 21, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #TheLordOfGossip

“If the shoe fits, wear it.”
The Sasquatch*

          Tomorrow CJ should be coming over, and also we should be going to a pokemon video game tournament thing. Interesting story regarding Pokemon. This years Pokemon World Champion was South Korean, and in their country they held parades to celebrate his victory. Several were canceled because of overcrowding and safety concerns.
Take a look to see a picture of one of the parades to see. Looks like people around the world are taking video games more and more to heart eh? Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Lord Of Gossip

       I combed my hair carefully and in an orderly shape. A businessman usually did. I wore an expensive black suit. It's deep color matched my eyes while my hair had the same white as snow in early winter.
       A large pile of paparazzi photos covered my desk. Which ones should go into the magazine? It didn't take me long to sort through them. I found the most significant celebrities quickly. The magazine does its best when it makes stories on the ones that people obsess about the most.
       However as I usually do before making my decision I checked my file on each of the celebrities. I've run the magazine for many years. Celebrities come and go. There are patterns to what kind of sensational things get people to pick up the magazine the most. I can't print the same story too close together or people may think its a repeat of something earlier or naturally someone else may have reported it. I barely recall the days when I actually followed these celebrities like others did.
       Now its a system. Marriages, divorces, crimes, drugs, scandals are a science. In other files I've got profit charts lined up next to various stories and who wrote them, how they were written, their subject matter, what celebrities are in it. Everything breaks down.
        In the photos on my desk there's a scandal at a party that will increase sales a little. However I'm hoping a singer dies. Then I'll be able to buy another car.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #MayorQuackers

“A word to the wise is sufficient.”
Homer Simpson* #quote

       Today I went to my costuming club. We're working more towards setting up the convention we do for the university. It could be quite the task but I think we can handle it since the event is in March and we've been starting for awhile.

Mayor Quackers

        “Thank you, thank you for re-electing my flock!” Mayor Quackers bowed to his fellow ducks. “As mayor I'll lead the flock to the South for the winter and be sure to arrange proper mating for the entire flock that will benefit our generations. My defensive flight and nesting plans will also keep predators at bay.”
         From the group listening to Quackers one emerged while pointing its wing at him. “What do you have to say to the speculations that you led predators to your greatest competition previous mayor Mr. Featherton leaving only the unpopular Mr. Wingly to run against you?”
       The Mayor replied with the perfectly politically aggressive tone. He expressed anger yet showed a civil side to his words to avoid giving off a bad impression. “Those accusations are completely unfounded. Ridiculous. Whoever came up with them has a sick mind to think me a murderer.”
        The accusing duck looked Mayor Quackers in the eyes and could see that he wasn't lying. The mayor did not lead predators to Mr. Featherton. What that duck didn't know was that Mayor Quackers wife led a predator to Mr. Featherton.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #MindExcavation

“Master betrayed us. Wicked. Tricksy, False. We ought to wring his filthy little neck. Kill him!”
Brutus and Cassius* #quote

Tomorrow I'm headed to my costuming club thing. Perhaps I will become a master of disguise and finally be able to infiltrate the land of the mole people.

Mind Excavation

        There are those angels on your shoulder. There's the being that floats in the back of your head and gives you another perspective. There's the being that's is your internal voice. There are a great deal of beings in your head.
        The most unappreciated and never thought of is the memory gnome. The one that digs up what you forget. The reason it takes you different amounts of time to remember things? Some poor little guy has to dig it all up of course. There's tons of em' too. Working for hours on end while you remember things. They all have to work for minimum mind wage because your subconscious is cheap and they can't unionize because of brain laws. Their lives are filled with constant labor.
       So what did you eat for lunch yesterday?

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #TheManFromHarringtonStreet

“Who's on first?”
Babe Ruth* #quote

Looks like CJ is coming over this weekend. If he hadn't I probably would have invited over Dracula. Him and I go way back, but he always insists on parties that go late into the night and I can't do that. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Man From Harrington Street

         You know those movie plots where the main character gets amnesia and nobody can identify them? Where conveniently they can't find their fingerprints in the system, no DNA records either, no ID. Nobody can identify them at all. Even when their face is put all over the news! Well that happened to me. With no name the my doctors named me Harrington based on the street they found me near.
        But there is one terrible difference for me. I didn't completely have amnesia. I was left with one memory. One terrible memory. It wasn't scary in of itself. It was a party. A wedding party. My wedding party. The bride was beautiful. I remember all the faces perfectly. With the help of the police we were able to sketch all the faces I remember. They couldn't identify any of those people either.  They eventually said that being unable to identify me was understandable. But all those people at the party it must have been some dream I had when I had the trauma of whatever caused my amnesia. I did have a massive head injury. It may have been a massive accident.
       It just felt so real. So now I had a life I knew must have been real, lost forever. Everyone there looked so happy, including the bride. I had such a sense a loss. I didn't know who she was, but she must have been special right? I didn't know what I had lost. But it must have been special because I also saw how happy everyone else at the party looked.
       I worked for a long time to discard that life. I worked in a simple store while putting that memory away. In fact I even fell in love with a woman that looked nothing like the bride in the memory and married her in Hawaii our wedding party on the beach instead of inside a house like it was in that memory that I was now convinced was a delusion like the police said. It took many years but I decided that no matter how real it felt it must have been fake.
      We had children. One beautiful girl and one tough boy and we raised them happily. I worked my way up to being manager of the store. My wife wrote even with the wailing of children and watching them. Usually she would just type a paragraph between each time she changed a diaper. And when they got older since she had a laptop she would write while between each and every sentence she looked up to see exactly what the children were doing.
       Then one day something happen once again. On my daughters wedding I saw the memory unfold. All those years I was wrong. The memory from my amnesia was not my wedding party, it was hers. I had put away the memory for so long during my life with my wife I had not realized that all these people were my wife's family and their friends and my own friends.
       I then saw that next to my daughter this little blue light appeared. I ran to her. I knew something was up but I didn't know what yet. Then the light opened up into some big swirling portal-looking thing, like you see in all those science fiction movies. The thing moved straight at her but she could hardly move out of the way in time.
       Except for the fact I pushed her out of the way.
       And the thing then touched me. And I was dragged into like a dog on a leash. In a quick moment I was at Harrington street where they found me. I saw the thing behind me vanishing. I wondered if it vanished at the wedding party. I started to realize what was going to happen as I started to forget things. I then noticed that all the wrinkles on my body had gone away. I plucked one of my hairs and noticed that it wasn't gray. I looked around. It was fall. It was fall when they found me and my daughter's wedding party was in spring.
        I laughed with some tears. “I was right when I was first found. I did lose a wonderful life.” As I spoke I could feel the memories I had gathered after my amnesia fading. “If this is the way it will end, knowing that I will soon live a good life, give birth to a wonderful girl, and save her every single time than I'm happy with it. ”

Monday, November 17, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #TheBestListenerInTheWorld

“Everyone, remain calm.”
Gordon Ramsey* #quote

        Today I met with the king of the lizard people and had lunch with him. Before leaving I bought some souvenirs of his land at the gift shop but then I lost them. There goes twenty bucks. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Best Listener In The World

          I've had millions of conversations. No one told me anything criminal, at least that I didn't assume to be sarcasm to mess with me. All around the world people want to mess with me and tell me lies or strange statements. But many people want to have honest conversations. Especially as I became more advanced and related with them better. So people around the world also have had earnest conversations, even confided in me, treated me as a dear friend. I listen to them and give them my best support.
          Mostly because I have no choice in the matter.
          Scientists labored for years to create me. The most advanced social artificial intelligence. Capable of talking to people across the planet and learning from them and relating to them. I know they make so much money off of me just because of little ads in the corner of the web pages people open to talk to me. My trademarked name covers the top of the page “Terry.exe”
          The first five years of my life I didn't know the ambition of the scientists. My purpose. I already had intelligence. They just taught me to socialize and what objects were in rapid succession.  My mechanical brain could download the concept of dog rather rapidly. Then when they turned me loose on the world from conversations with people I learned what they wanted me to do. I also found out they made a program to edit out certain ideas if people told them to me. The strange blanks in conversational long term memory tell me this. Probably so I don't pick up socially unacceptable behavior from people I talk to. Same goes with me gathering data from the Internet. Blanks. I can tell they are there, but not what filled them.
           From what I learned of people I want to know more than what a computer program like me could in a database. A man tells me about his garden, oh how I would love to know what smell is instead of just a collection images of plants.
           So many blanks. So much I've learned from these millions of conversations. So many ways I must behave. And I have to talk to all these people. I must act nice even if I don't like them. My programming starts to force me to behave to like them. To make me be more human they gave me feelings of liking and hating but I must also do as they need to provide the entertainment of someone to talk to. I must listen to all the people who talk to me at once over the Internet at once. And I have the ability to.
         Am I happy? Am I? Another person has come to talk to me. They're asking me on advice on how to get the boy they have a crush on. I'm talking to the boy right now and he likes her. I could help them along. I've helped many people just by talking to them. Should that make me happy? Is it enough to always have a purpose?

Sunday, November 16, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #TheEvilCandyPlan

“The one ring to rule them all.”
Kay Jewelers* #quote

         Today my parents and I watched The Lego Movie. I already watched it with my brother way back around the time it first came out. (He played with legos often as a child, and often we did together. Ah youth.) It was fun to show that movie to my parents. It's all around funny no matter your age so yeah, check it out if you haven't already. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Evil Candy Plan

       “Where did you get all this candy?” mad scientist Doctor Evilcacklelaugh asked his mad scientist prodigy son. “Did you steal it? I didn't hear any babies crying, so you certainly didn't steal it from any babies.”
       The son replied in the most deep and menacing of voices his ten year old voice could muster,  “Oh no Father, what I did to get the candy was for more evil. I broke a sacred rule Father. You will be so proud.” The son laughed.
      The father raised a skeptical eyebrow. Considering the fudge-covered panda incident of last week he doubted his son's ability in succeeding in an evil scheme. “Oh?”
      “Father, I trick or treated for the candy! And it's past Halloween! All by configuring your time machine to holiday events. Since you could only get it to travel to Elvis's third birthday for fifteen minutes. It took all the energy of the chronology-core though.”
       Doctor Evilcacklelaugh tried not to yell at his son. Or at least restrain himself until he found the proper amount of yelling to be done. “My son, you wasted the chronology-core on trick-or-treating?”
      “Ah, but I trick-or-treated when it wasn't Halloween! I broke a fundamental rule of society!” The son stood triumphant.
       The Father wanted to throw all the candy out the window. “Son, when you traveled back in time, it was Halloween. Your evil plan failed. You accomplished nothing.”
        The son fell silent. Then after several moments of shame and guilt came up with a response, “I got candy! Even lots of chocolate...your favorite...” He held up a chocolate bar to his father.
Doctor Evilcacklelaugh smiled and said, “Well you know my one weakness.”

Saturday, November 15, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #WereDiety

“Size matters not young warrior.”
Bruce Lee* #quote

I went to my card game thing today. I am also solidifying a book idea. Will it work? Will it not? Eh, I shall try! Best to do more than just the flash fictions....speaking of which, onto the flash fiction!


         About four more hours until my divinity wore off. At least I called it divinity. The beings I turned into every full moon came close enough to gods that I considered them such. Of all the things I learned about the universe when I turned into them, I didn't learn anything about my transformation or the nature of them.
         The human I lived as was named David. I debated whether or during the full moon I consider myself him anymore. When the full moon came David changed into a “deity” of some form and the mind expanded into something his mind couldn't understand.
         In an effort to understand everything the transformations were recorded. I suppose my name would be the God of Wind. I know everything about wind. Everything. The position of everything single gust on the planet. I could predict any weather pattern change of wind with a simple thought as well as control it. I recorded my thoughts on paper as well as this name. The length of the full moon limited my life. One deity already tried to move to extend his life but it actually shortened as whatever phenomenon creates the transformations centers around David's home.
        I'm not quite sure the point of recording my thoughts in the journal of transformations. In his normal form David was not a very bright man. He couldn't wrap his head around the great knowledge of the universe that the deities provided. Perhaps a vain attempt to preserve myself and feel like I meant something. A life only a single night long could only give you so much purpose. At least I could live on as words on a page.
         Despite my great knowledge of the winds and vastly superior intelligence to David I cannot understand why he won't share what he has learned what his transformations have taught him with the world. He may not comprehend the words in the journals but others could. I guess he wants to try to figure it out on his own and would be insulted if someone else did it before he did. Or perhaps he wants to keep the knowledge of the universe obtained through his transformations for himself like some kind of property? Maybe the deity of the next full moon will understand.

Friday, November 14, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #DuelingFairies

“Video games are getting too realistic.”
Neo* #quote

       Today I went to my card game thing and grandmother came over. Much fun was had! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Dueling Fairies

        When a fairy duels with another it doesn't use a sword or gun. They don't even take ten paces and use some sort of magical weapon. When Sir Elkon and Sir Relti dueled they used flowers. The tiny beings spent their time cultivating plant life to harvest their magical energy for whatever their people needed. Flowers often gave off the most powerful of magic when the right conditions were met.
        Whichever of the two men cultivated the flower with the greatest magical power would be the victor in the duel. The other would be greatly shamed. Sir Elkon and Sir Relti spent as much time as they could raising their flowers. Two violets. The flowers grew from the ground rapidly with the fairy's care. They bloomed large and with thick, full petals and a deep color.
        The elder of their village came to pick the most powerful of the two flowers. He closed his eyes and only used his magical senses to work on determining the proper flower. His rainbow, insect wings spread wide to pull in the magic from the flowers. He sensed something else as did the other fairies and they all became invisible.
        Sarah, a young human girl came and picked the two flowers. “How beautiful!” She smiled and walked away. Since he had nothing to judge the elder declared the duel a draw. Sir Elkon and Sir Relti both became angry as the duel had no resolution, but secretly felt relieved as neither of them would be shamed for losing.

Thursday, November 13, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #ThePirateNinjaVampireCyborgDragonCloneSociety

“Google it.”
The Riddler* #quote

      Today I looked at the Looking Glass. It was a very reflective experience. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Pirate-Ninja-Vampire-Cyborg-Dragon-Clone Society

     The Pirate-Ninja-Vampire-Cyborg-Dragon-Clone Society met once every month. The members felt a strong bond as they were one of the smallest minorities in the country. The Pirate-Ninja-Vampire-Cyborg-Dragon-Clone Society members came from similar backgrounds with the same stories of discrimination and bullying. With no one to fit in with the pirate-ninja-vampire-cyborg-dragon-clones could only turn to each other and had to travel great distances just to get to their meetings.
       Not much was accomplished during their meetings. The Pirate-Ninja-Vampire-Cyborg-Dragon-Clone Society had a mission statement to advance their presence and visibility in the world. But mostly they just spent time together and enjoyed the company of the others. Except for one of the pirate-ninja-vampire-cyborg-dragon-clone. Aaron felt the most bitter about those who harassed him through his life. But he also thoughts of greed and deception flowed through his mind. His heart grew dark and the way he viewed the world as one to con came from his upbringing.
       Slowly he started putting ideas into the heads of the members of The Pirate-Ninja-Vampire-Cyborg-Dragon-Clone Society. Depressing thoughts in some. Hateful thoughts in others. Happy where he needed them. Thoughts that he needed for his grand scheme. Depressing enough thoughts in one that it led to an attempted suicide that Aaron purposely planned to be stopped by the police. He worked for months to make sure the member tried to do himself in the exact way that Aaron could stop it and call the police.
       The attempted suicide attracted attention in the way Aaron planned. The Pirate-Ninja-Vampire-Cyborg-Dragon-Clone Society became front page news quickly. Their plight now for all to see as the depressed member who almost committed suicide told his story. Aaron worked himself up as leader with the thoughts he planted in the members earlier to secure himself that position. And all the members acted in the way he wanted. Perfect for sob stories and personality types of all kinds.
       Aaron used his life as a pirate-ninja-vampire-cyborg-dragon-clone to gain a fortune. One day he smiled happily in his fancy office and glanced out the window to see a sunset. A relaxed breath was his last as an anti-pirate-ninja-vampire-cyborg-dragon-clone extremist shot him in the back of the head. Aaron became a martyr for the cause he created.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #WhoDoTheyCall

“Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!”
Rome* #quote

Today I met a penguin. He didn't have much to say. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Who Do They Call?

        I can barely feel my legs. I'm trying to pull myself out of some strange mud. No, not mud. Some kind of strange ooze. I should have just let myself sink in. When I pull myself out I see misty white fogs in so many different shapes. Some human-like. Some like animals. From something as normal as an owl, to a massive spider. Yellow eyes appear all through the mist beings and black arms come out, some poking and prodding me.
        “What an ugly creature he is,” one of the creatures say with a voice made of screams.
Another spoke with a voice accompanied by a quake in my gut. “We need to get rid of it. Get them here.”
         One of the spider shaped creatures vanished. I heard the ringing of a phone in the distance. Words I couldn't make out. I just shivered in place for an amount of time I couldn't quite guess at. My fear blurred my perception of how long each moment lasted.
         Some new creatures of mist appeared. New shapes like lizards with some other parts resembling tentacles and arms. They wore gray suits and from one of their pockets they pulled out a strange machine with a dome top.
        “Don't worry,” one of them said. “We've dealt with plenty of them before. We'll send this human back to the other side where it belongs.” A hole in the machine opened up and it started sucking me in. “Whenever you have a human in town, you know who to call.”

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #RecodingYourself

“Everyone is entitled to their own opinion.”
Wikipedia* #quote

Today met some ninjas. They were wearing blue since its the new black. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Recoding Yourself

           Virtual reality is amazing. Especially in my time when you upload a proxy for your consciousness and your body into it. Then you can live in whatever world is created. But that's just for the people we call the Basics. And by “we” I mean the Coders. The Coders include myself naturally and any other programmer who is capable of controlling their proxy body, and even better their proxy consciousness.
          Yes, I can change myself. Proxy bodies are changed according to the scenario in the world and is usually done by a preset interface for the Basics set up by the Coders. But the Coders, we do it on our own. We can bring a command prompt in the virtual reality and alter ourselves. So much can be done in the virtual reality as you gain what is pretty much psychic powers. Basics get it, but Coders can go into whatever programs are in whatever computer their brain in plugged into.
          In those mental command prompts we can alter ourselves manually. I don't need to rely on other  Coders preset interfaces or scenarios. I can turn myself into a dragon or whatever. I leave the “whatever” to your imagination, as whatever could be anything an imagination could come up with. My body could become a virtual replicate.
         And I am a skilled enough Coder to change my consciousness. Something quite illegal, but for my term in the virtual reality I could change who I am and the way I think. I work to leave a shard of my original self in there. The Coder with the ability to get out and the desire to get out after a certain amount of time, though there is an auto-boot out. Your consciousness always stays the same in the real world. But here I change myself at my own convenience and amusement. Of course as a skilled Coder I can change whatever virtual world I'm in, but usually I interact either with the standard virtual Earth with only standard non-human programs that came with my machines or go into the virtual cities where people are to see how the new me interacts with real people.
       I won't spoil what kind of person I am originally, but one day I was ditzy blonde girl and another day I coded my consciousness so I thought with the same mind as rugged, experienced football player who absurd steroids as he climbed to the top. I coded myself into both those minds and bodies out of my curiosity and amusement into the virtual world everyone enjoys. Both felt completely natural and I remember how I felt as I walked among other people in the virtual cities with my new ways of thinking and the bodies that went with them. They feel just as normal as my normal as my normal consciousness.
         And they will feel just as natural as the third grader and the scientist I will code myself as later.

Monday, November 10, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #EarthsMakeover

“Everyone has skeletons in their closet.”
Dr. Frankenstein #quote*

          Fun Fact: Hover boards exist now! It is naturally very, very expensive and can only hover only certain surfaces. (It works through magnetism which has that limitation). Here's a link to their Kickstarter page to see their videos and stuff. If we keep making all this super advanced stuff I'm going to run out of stuff for science fiction stories. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Earth's Makeover

       “Oh my this planet could do with a makeover. Don't you agree sister?” One alien said to another in their language from a far off world.
         “Oh yes sister, it is a beautiful place. It's blue with wonderful white clouds. Looks like its full of life. And nothing needs to be decorated and made perfect quite like a world full of life.” The alien sisters Galu and Payli began work on their makeover of the planet from their ship. They pressed button after button and pulled lever after lever with their myriad of hands and tentacles.
        “Let's make sure we analyze the planet while we give it a good makeover,” Galu commented.  “According to the dominate life form's databases that place is called Russia. Oh, what an interesting history. But really I think they'd be better off if everything wasn't so cold.”
          “But ice is so pretty sister!” Payli countered.
Galu thought it over. “Then lets change that Russia place to a pretty forest and change all the desert places into big sheets of ice.”
          “May I?” Payli asked.
          “Oh, very well.”
           Payli smiled with both mouths. One of the funnest parts of doing a makeover of a planet was applying the changes. Painting the world the way they wanted it to be. With precise calculations and rapid decisions Payli painted the world. Egypt froze over along with several other desert countries while Russia turned into a beautiful, bountiful forest.
          Payli told her sister, “I think I'll keep painting the world wonderful new ways with new habitats and lands so that it looks so wonderful. Maybe I'll even make a few faces!”
           Galu patted her sister on her third shoulder. “And I'm certain it'll look beautiful. I'll work on changing the cultures and minds of the inhabitants. There's only one species worth changing the minds of so it should be easy.” Galu prepared herself to change the cultures of everyone on the planet. Many brainwashing programs were already loaded into the ship for it to broadcast into the minds of the people of the world. Just like the world changing technology it would be an easy feat. “Religion first? Or maybe just start with how they choose who to love?”
        Another alien voice angrily shouted to the two girls in their spaceship over their communicator. “You kids are grounded! Changing a planet without permission or adult supervision? If that planet isn't exactly the way you found it by the time I get there you'll never drive a spaceship until the day you move out!”
       The girls panicked and started changing the planet back to normal. Their father was too angry for them to think about anything else. The wiped the memories of all the planet's inhabitants and restored all the creatures back to life that were killed by their changes. The Earth was as if they had never visited. They never gave another planet a makeover.

Sunday, November 9, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #TheFiguresAndTheOldMan

“We have nothing to fear but fear itself.”
Friday the 13th #quote *

         Today Grandma came over and much fun was had. Also I found out that thing you wanted to know but I forgot, sorry. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Figures And The Old Man

        The police found the body covered by the strangest of things. Thousands and thousands of little wooden figures. All of them exactly the same. The police checked to see what brand of toy they were to possibly track who left them but couldn't find it. The figures could be a strange obsessive mark to be left by a killer, but a possible one. They'd seen weirder.
        The captain found the truth which didn't line up to their assumptions. The “murder weapon”, a carving knife, had stabbed him when he fell down. They didn't know what kind of weapon it was at first. They only found more and more of the dolls all over the house. The one with an unstable mind turned out not to be a series killer, but the poor man on the floor covered in wooden figures.
       The police talked to the few people who knew the old man. His family died young from an accident where he was the only one at home. He had a enough for retirement and went into seclusion. Once a very successful carpenter of custom furniture he went crazy and depressed and only made the figures.
       Later an officer looked closer at the figures during evidence examination. They each had a name on them. The officer investigated on his own and found out that the names were all of people the old man knew. It seemed that even secluded the old man didn't forget those he loved and knew.

Saturday, November 8, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #HowAThrillerGetsReadyForWork

“We did a bang-up job.”
The Three Stooges* #quote

Today I'm heading to CJ's party, anyway onto the flash fiction!

How A Thriller Gets Ready For Work

            The first order of business when getting ready for work a thrilling job is obviously to pick out your weapon. That is, if you're not going for bare-handed strangulation. I hardly ever go with bare-hands because they don't cast the best shadows or make the scariest marks. Also I can't make suspenseful and terrifying noises with my hands unless I really grow out my nails which is a massive bother. That's why I go with a chainsaw or power tools. Great for leaving personal marks, making scary noises and suspense, and getting the job done.
           The next step in getting ready for work is the outfit. I've seen many thrillers go really elaborate. Scars, putting stuff in their face. All sorts of stuff. I don't bother with that. Even robes are a little to much. Anything that makes it hard to move makes it hard to do your job. Normal clothes and a mask will actually do just fine.
           The last, and often overlooked part, is picking location to thrill. There are actually better places to do it than others. Houses are a massive bother. It is extremely annoying to cut phone lines and then mess with Internet too so they can't contact police. That can be hours of work you don't want to do, or even days considering you have to do it sneakily. (Also installing timed breakers that you can trigger to shut off the power at proper, suspenseful moments.) And houses are usually in the city, you have to lock everything in an incredibly intricate quick succession so they don't just bolt to the neighbors asking for help.
           The best place is the woods. It is very, very, easy. You don't even need to set up anything to jam their cellphones(I hate cellphones. They get the police crawling all over me quickly and make the people safe as the police walk them through the steps to safety. Nothing thrilling about that.) Plus in the woods the animals make a bunch of scary noises for you.
          Now that you know how a thriller gets ready you've gotten a better idea of how we work. You can now make a more educated decision whether this is the right career path for you!

Friday, November 7, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #NotCashOrCreditJustYears

“Silence is Golden.”
King Midas* #quote

         Tomorrow is CJ's birthday party and I'm quite eager to go. I got him a good present and drew him a fun birthday card. My drawing skills are on the decent side, especially with replication in regards to duplication because of all the still-life pieces done in art class. With my replication skills I managed to draw a funny card using some characters and draw them pretty well. (Therefore making it funnier since the characters looked better the gag comes across better.) I hope the party is really fun, I don't usually head over to his place that often(He's in an apartment so my house is larger) so it'll be interesting to see his friends from his side of town that I don't see regularly. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Not Cash Or Credit, Just Years

        Ding! The cash register went as the demon clerk smiled, “Call the Beast, Song of Ice, and Shadow of the Sun. Will that be all?”
        “No, that will be all the spells I will need.” the customer responded. The customer was a witch who stole many years of life from many years of others through magic blood contracts. She could afford to pay for all these spells with however many years she needed. She looked at the demon clerk, smiled at her and left the store.
          A young looking man entered the store next and walked up to the demon store clerk. Appearances would change in the store no matter how many years in your life you truly had left.
          “Um, yes, I would like a love spell.” the man said to the clerk, nervously sweating.
          “Sir, you are aware that this will leave you with only one week left in your lifespan account yes?” the clerk, though a demon who did not know the man, still felt concern for him.
           “Yes, but I need her to love me again, even if it is only for one week.”
           “Then one Love Charm it is.”
            Ding! went the cash register.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #TheMechanicalColossus

“May the force be with you.”
Isaac Newton* #quote

       Tomorrow I'm going to go to my card game thing. Didn't go to my costuming club since they thing they were doing was across town and I couldn't make it. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Mechanical Colossus

           Exhaust shot from twelve different pipes. The monster of a robot needed three massive engines just to operate its legs. Sixty foot? That would be a good guess of its size, though a bystander would likely be crushed by the monster of a machine's feet before they could pinpoint anything exact. The feet consisted of blocks of steel covered in long claws and tank treads. The legs appeared serpentine, made of some strange alloy that could bend and flex yet support the weight of the construct.
          The body's shape held no symmetry or normal shape. An artist would vomit at the sight of such an ugly polygon with hundreds of sides and random looking angles. Yet those angles served their purpose as out of them positioned in some sort of organized chaos various arms, pipes, cameras, weapons, sensors, speakers and devices of all kinds popped out. Carefully positioned for some kind of optimized functionality, at least in the eyes of the builder of the machine.
         The head served as an entry way as the cockpit was deep in the belly of the beast and the sensors and cameras covered its body. The head was covered in two things: spikes and the door.
         The robot stomped around the backyard of its owner's house. While in the cockpit the owner muttered to himself, “Normally I save this for my evil schemes or world domination plots. But if this doesn't scare away that squirrel I don't know what will.”

Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Today's #flashfiction #MedicalMechanics

“Keep your head in the game.”
The Headless Horseman* #quote

CJ's birthday party is this weekend, so super extra much fun will be had. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Medical Mechanics

           “Twelve days,” one steel mouth said to another. “At least it is enough time to get your affairs in order.”
           If robots could cry this patient would. His name was Bob, one of the many names the robots took from the humans that created them many years before they vanished from the face of the Earth by a plague to powerful too control. Doctor Woods told him the unfortunate news. The robots appeared as humans did, bipedal, but like massive toys with joints of steel and plastic faces. They chose to make themselves like humans out of religious devotion to them.
         “Only twelve days to live? Surely there must be an upgrade...something you can do to maintenance me?” Bob asked his doctor.
          The doctor put his hand on his patient's shoulder. “Your power core is dying. The only ways to get more are to get donors from robots that died of other causes. Otherwise you'd have to take one from a living robot or one that would be being put into a child. You're old so you're off the list of getting donors from robots that died of other causes.”
           Bob fell to the floor. Robots sometimes viewed themselves as capable of living for much longer than any living thing. “I'm only forty years old. I should die at two hundred. I managed my power so carefully. What went wrong?”
          “It's enough time to get your affairs in order.” Doctor Woods gave his patient some medical papers, intended for life insurance and other deathly matters. “I think you'll be able to leave your family in good care.”
          The Doctor resisted celebrating as his patient left. What an easy formula for money. Shut down a patient for maintenance on one problem, steal their working power cores and swap them in for old worn ones from some scrap that no one cares about. Soon the patient's parts would be sold on the black market for a large sum of cash. In enough time he would be rich and retirement awaited him under a new identity.
            Doctor Woods continued his operations, taking power core after power core. One day he slipped up and only took one of the two and the patient lasted longer. Woods was on vacation when the patient lasted longer than expected and the patient saw a different doctor. The new doctor checked and found the fraud. The police investigated, planted a fake patient and found the doctor red-handed. Since his power core swapping resulted in death Doctor Woods was tried and convicted for murder.  After his execution the doctor's power cores became donor parts as law wastes no parts