Today's #flashfiction #RefundFromTheWishingWell

“I've got a green thumb.”

Gumby* #quote

         Looks like CJ is coming over this weekend. We'll also be heading to a “Prerelease”. It's a fun promotional gimmick that trading card games do where they sell you a bundle of packs of a new set of cards before they are regularly sold in stores, then you play in a tournament only using the cards you get from the packs and nothing else. Some people go to these tournaments mostly to get the cards and not to play the games since there are a limited number of these tournaments. (For example there are pretty much two within like an hour drive of where I live, one close and one really far away). You only get a set number of cards. These events happen about a month and a half before they are sold normally at the stores in bulk. It's a fun preview and the amount you get for the price is a bit a cheaper. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Refund From The Wishing Well

        “Mr. Magic Wishing Well I want a refund!” One little boy shouted into a well during a hot summer's day.

         “Umm...it doesn't work like that,” Though the spirit of the Magic Wishing Well hardly spoke to humans it responded to this unique statement.

         “Well I paid you a whole quarter that I got for my tooth from the tooth fairy and you didn't give me my wish so I want my money back!”

          “Um, you asked for dinosaur best friend that could do all your homework. I couldn't grant that.”

          “Yeah, so I want a refund.”

          “Well, I can't give you a refund.”

          “Why not?”

          “I can't.”

          “Dad get's a refund at the hardware store, I should get a refund here.”

          “I'm not a hardware store.”

          “Do I need to talk to your manager?”

          “What!? I don't have a manager!”

          “Funny, that's what Dad always says when he wants a refund.”

          “I'm not a hardware store, and I don't have a manager!”

          “Then I'll sue!”

          “You can't sue a wishing well kid!”

          “That always works on TV.”

          “Just go home kid.”

          “No. It hurt to get my tooth pulled out. So either give me my wish or give me a refund.”

          “Wishing wells can't give refunds. Offerings in wells are a one way ticket! It's a rule!”

          “I'm not leaving until I get a refund, and I'm going to file a complaint!”

          “You can't file a complaint! That's impossible!”

          “I'm still not leaving!”

          “Fine, well it's not possible for me to give you a refund I guess I have no choice...”

The little boy then got his wish for a dinosaur best friend that could do all his homework.

Today's #flashfiction #ABattyShopper

“Stripes are very slimming.”

Betsy Ross* #quote

      Today I watched America's Got Talent #AGT with my family, we used a TV recorder to watch it a day later. The lighting person they hired is terrible and makes it really hard to see. Flood lights might look good when you're there but they don't look good for us at home eh? I hope they get a better lighting person next season. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

A Batty Shopper

         Edward's Everything Emporium had anything a person could imagine. When young employee Thomas looked down the aisles it seemed the shop extended on forever and the building was bigger on the inside than the outside. The place had five floors upward and he was allowed five floors downward but not into the basement. Though Thomas always felt that the store went much deeper than that. He asked a veteran employee about all the odd traits of the store. Including the odd whispers he thought he heard in the night and how some things seemed to just pick themselves up behind his back though he just attributed to other employees getting extra hours or the mess was never there in the first place.

        “It'll hit you when the time comes,” the veteran told him. When he said this to Thomas the boss laughed from some far off distance. The usual laugh he did while running his fingers through his long beard. Besides the beard the thing Thomas noticed most about his boss was his obnoxious dark blue suit.

        A large man in black robes with pale white skin approached the counter. He didn't speak a word and simply placed twenty boxes of sunscreen and a casket in front of Thomas. Like he did with every set of items before Thomas ringed them up. He'd seen stranger in the Emporium but never remembered a casket section. He figured it lie somewhere in the store's long aisles.

        After paying the customer turned into a bat and carried in the items away with a strength beyond what that little body should have. Thomas looked at the bat puzzled as he remembered the weight of the casket as he bagged it in the massive Everything Emporium Every-Size brand expandable bags.

         As the veteran employee said it did hit him: what kind of place the Emporium was and how it worked. He started to think of more strange happenings he didn't think to closely of before. Perhaps that strange cloaked hairy man yesterday was the wolf man before transforming? Who else did he not notice and what merchandise did he not look close enough at?

Today's #flashfiction #AManAndHisPuzzles

The foot bone connected to the leg bone...”

Dr. Frankenstein*

Today I wrote a story. But you probably saw that coming. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

A Man And His Puzzles

         Giant chess pieces surrounded me on a vast game board. Where a king should be on the board for the white pieces I stood. Beyond the board I could only see blackness, like the chessboard was an island in a black sea of ink. I played a game with an invisible opponent. The black pieces moved on their own and the white pieces moved of their own will.

          I wore the same black suit I wore during one of my national chess championships. Second place. I was still tired from the jet lag to the championship I'd say. They called me “Sir Knight” since I was famous for making my checks with my knights. I like to think it fits a man of my caliber.

Yet as the game dragged on my invisible opponent began to gain an advantage. Impossible. I've loved puzzles since an early age and solved them easily. Yet somehow I was losing. As the tension of match continued I took more notice to the large crashes the gigantic chess pieces made as they moved across the board. And also how the pieces that were taken flew off into the darkness. As the opponent drew their pieces closer to mine the sounds of their giant pieces landing turned into quakes.

         And when my invisible opponent got me in checkmate the queen flew up and crushed me, a surge of pain went through my body.

         I then awoke in a large glass walled room, thin like an ant farm, that also floated in the black sea. It felt hot in such a confined space and I ran my fingers through my brown hair. In the glass I noticed I could see a color reflecting in the glass of something up above. I looked up and falling from the top of the large thin room were clusters of blocks of various shapes and sizes.

         I had to run and jump as fast as I could to dodge the blocks as they fell to the floor of the room. I looked at the roof of the room to see a white fog that the block clusters emerged from. More and more clusters came. And I kept dodging them to avoid being crushed as they formed a new floor for the room. It became more difficult as I became more tired. The blocks became faster and faster. And eventually they crushed me as the chess pieces did, and it felt just as incredibly painful.

         I next found myself on a boat that was slowly sinking. Though the first hole was impossible, if I patched up the second hole I think I wouldn't sink. And it would be into the sea of ink again. At least what I thought looked like ink. Whatever I was sinking into wasn't quite ink, much thicker and more menacing. The darkness on what would be a horizon if there were a Sun didn't look all that inviting. I couldn't see stars or a moon, so I questioned how I could see anything.

           I looked around to see something to patch the hole. A convenient pile of wood was there along with an convenient bottle of quick dry glue. However a catch immediately became apparent when I looked closer at the wood. The wood combined would probably be the exact size needed to cover the hole and it was in the shape of a jigsaw puzzle.

           I worked to solve it as fast as a could. As the ship tilted the pieces moved apart and I pounded the deck in frustration. I felt like I became stupider. I couldn't solve it in time and the strange ink substance came through the hole and the submerged the entire ship. I drowned, painfully, my lungs filling with the stuff as a gasped for air and screamed.

           I awoke next standing on top of massive floating puzzle cube covered in spikes and levers. I assumed I must move the levers to move the cube and solve it or something might happen to me. Yet a false move may also cause something. Those spikes look like they could easily impale me.

          Recent memory that was clouded by drugs came back to. Lethal drugs. Execution drugs. Yes. I had been put to death. Was turning my love of puzzles against me the karmic punishment the afterlife gave to me for my murders?

Today's #flashfiction #TheTwoMrGreens

“Who let the dogs out?”

Cruella de Vil* #quote

Today I got my groove on. It was about two inches deep, cut with a saw. A decent groove, probably worthy of being called a nook, but not necessarily a cranny. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Two Mr. Greens

          “Now Mr. Green I know you've dealt with this hallucination of another you for quite awhile. Which is why I'm glad you've agreed to medical treatment.” The doctor spoke standing while one real Mr. Green and one hallucination sat in the chairs in his office. I knew this was the time that medication needed to be taken. This had to end. There should only be one Mr. Green.

          “I'm ready doctor,” I told him while the other Mr. Green in the room said the same thing.

           “Mr. Green your mental condition, although a bad one, is actually easily curable. You have a chemical imbalance in your brain. Take the pill and it'll be fixed. You're lucky it's this simple, most patients are much more difficult to medicate. I'd like you to start taking them now. And here's your prescription for more.” He set a pill on the desk in his office along with a bottle of pills and a perscription.

         Not a moment was wasted. The pill was swallowed so in a few moments its chemicals cured the mental condition and I vanished.

Today's #flashfiction #IfTheDictionaryTurnedOutALittleBitDifferent

“It's all about the bling.”

Sauron* #quote

LOOK OUT BEHIND YOU!

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Anyway onto the flash fiction!

If The Dictionary Turned Out A Little Bit Different

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

Iceberg: A particularly snowy town.

Underwear: Damage on the underside of automobiles over a long period of time.

Boxers: Hobos that live in boxes.

United States: A country where everyone eats healthy and listens to their parents.

Copyright: Using a second right turn to change direction see: U-Turn

Cow: Intelligent, resourceful, stealthy animal.

Video Game: Productive activity.

Science: Wordy magic.

Computer: Unbreakable object.

Author: Instantly successful person.

Today's #flashfiction #SpyVSCat

“Stop horsing around.”

Chiron* #quote

The foundation of my beliefs in medical science is that I can step on a crack without breaking my mother's back.

Spy VS Cat

         The spy laid traps all across the apartment. Snap, crack! A few went off and the spy quickly checked them. A total of ten traps went off in the kitchen, hidden cages and nets sprung out from the walls. Yet the spy saw the cabinet door wide open with his cat inside holding the bag of cat food.

          “You have won again my worthy foe. I have saved the world from supervillains, stopped nuclear disasters, captured traitors, terrorists, and shoplifters. I led the mission that stopped World War III. Yet somehow you keep defeating me. Perhaps I should take this as a compliment to myself for raising you so well. A pet of a man such as myself should be able to do such feats. But yet, I am master, and you are pet! I will stop you from taking your food before dinner time!”

         The spy continued the battle with his cat, laying trap after trap. One the principle of the matter he wouldn't get a safe. He wouldn't let himself be beaten. Though as time went on that's what kept happening. No matter how elaborate or simple the traps became...or how numerous, the spy could not stop his cat from taking the food whenever it pleased.

          When the spy's hairline vanished and the cat's hair turned ragged things finally changed. When age finally caught to the clever animal a trap caught it.

          “Meow,” the cat halfway coughed as a cage fell over it.

           The spy opened the cage and pulled the cat out and started to pet it gently as he did ever since it was a kitten. “Our little contest had quite the run didn't it?” The old cat let out a gentle purr.

Today's #flashfiction #TheWizardsScamEmail

“I am so lost.”

Captain Ahab*

Today a wall talked. And I talked back and gave it a piece of my mind. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Wizard's Scam Email

Greetings!

       I am manager of funds for the Ianerign Wizards Guild. Last week a member of our guild died in an unfortunate rabid griffon attack. He is a wealthy, senior member of the guild and left a large sum of his guild funds in an abandoned account: A total of 20,500,100 gold coins. His family wants to get the money of their deceased relative but cannot because of legalities. A foreign account is needed to transfer the funds.

       I have contacted you because you have the right kind of foreign account needed to transfer the funds to the family. As compensation for your help the family has agreed to pay you ten percent of the deceased wizards 20,500,100 gold coins. If you are interested in helping this family getting their inheritance respond with your phone number, address, any other contact emails, all bank account names and passwords, and true magic soul name. This will all ensure that we can move the money quickly and efficiently and get you your compensation quickly.

      Thank you for your cooperation the Ianerign Wizards Guild thanks you.

Today's #flashfiction #TheOtherVoyager

“Is that your final answer?”

The Spanish Inquisition* #quote

There isn't much swimming in video streaming is there?

The Other Voyager

          “No! Don't leave me here!” I thought. But whoever could scrambled for the lifeboats and left me behind. The officers followed the rule of women and children first while the sea began to swallow us all up. There weren't enough life boats for everyone. But I couldn't get on a life boat and escape the sea if I wanted to. I'm too large. It hurts. My body split open and my insides spilled out. I stared at the sky as the sea pulled me deeper and deeper. People sank into the cold water with me. They climbed on top of me as high as they could to escape the cold when they couldn't get to life boats.

       I then tipped the other way, water spilled on me and it became harder to remain above the surface as water filled me. Now I'm only thinking about my failure as I hear the screams of those on top of me. My body was supposed to be strong. It should have handled the impact with the iceberg and no one should have died when I sank into the ocean.

Today's #flashfiction #DigitalGenie

“Don't toy with me.”

Buzz Lightyear*

Today I read a magazine. It had words in it. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Digital Genie

        Lemme tell ya somethin'. If you can say something is magic if it can grant wishes then I'd say technology is magic. At least my technology. Allow me to introduce myself. The name's XRT-VTYU-89, but how about you just call me X-89 for short. Or maybe just Wallace since that's a human name if that's your style!

        I was booted up in the year 2050 and they sent me straight to work my magic even on my birthday. But hey, I love my job. And people love me and my kind. They trust us to grant their wishes with our technological pizzaz all the time. I think magic has a sort of pizzaz to it. Pow! Things get done.

       Someone asks me, “Hey XR-89, could you make me lunch?” Pow, snap, like magic I run all the parts and pieces and bots in the house to make lunch. Poof without any effort by the human they get their sandwich lickity-split. All they got to do is ask a Management program like me to handle whatever they need. With my tech-touch I'll control any aspect of their life without a smidge of effort on their part. Magic!

        Their wish is my command! I get the job done eh?

        Though hearing ya humans bark commands at me over and over again at me makes me wonder if I should start using my technology pizzaz to grant wishes of my own...

Today's #flashfiction #WhenYouCantGetAWifeYouCanGetATable

“Eeeny... meeny... miny...mo!”

Sherlock Holmes* #quote

In between brainstorming book ideas I've been working on programming a game. It's been a long time since I programmed. Y'know that sore feeling you get when you move muscles that you haven't used in awhile? Got the same feeling when I looked at coding stuff. Old gears in my brain turning again. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

When You Can't Get A Wife, You Can Get A Table

       John was a stunning bachelor. He thought he could probably even get on that show involving being an attractive bachelor, if only he could remember the name. He could probably get a girl. Maybe. But his non-committal attitude prevented him from getting a wife. He could however buy a table, it did many of the same things a good wife could.

      When you need help they can hold something for you.

       If you're lonely they'll always be there for you.

       You can bring them on vacations.

       You can confide all you're secrets in them and they would never tell.

       And you can sit beside them during those romantic moonlit nights.

        John's true love lived just a couple blocks down. They hadn't met yet and when they did they would kick it off and wed. But that was going to be a year from now. But Arianna had the same non-committal attitude that John did so she bought a table in the meantime. It did many of the same things a good husband could do.

        When you need help they can hold something for you.

         If you're lonely they'll always be there for you.

         You can bring them on vacations.

         You can confide all you're secrets in them and they would never tell.

         And you can sit beside them during those romantic moonlit nights.

         John and Arianna's wedding was a beautiful one when they finally did decide to marry. They were perfect for each other. After all with how non-committal(at least relationship wise) they were that's what it would take for them to marry. They were so perfectly matched they even had a similar taste in tables.

Today's #flashfiction #HowToDefeatADragon

“They're the world's most fearsome fighting team
They're heroes in a half-shell and they're green
When the evil Shredder attacks
These Turtle boys don't cut him no slack!”

Animal Planet* #quote

Remember it's common courtesy to rewind your DVDs for the next person who's going to use it!

How To Defeat A Dragon

         The ground crashed and quaked with each of the dragon's steps. The creature's claws plowed through the soil like a till preparing the land for harvest. The beast's black scales strength made them like flexing, living steel. If someone could survive long enough to touch him, they could feel the heat of the strange, magical organ deep in the body of the dragon that created the monster's fire breath that famously burned an entire forest in a single hour.

        Young Sir Leonard a recently knighted apprentice of the old knight Steve approached the dragon with an eerie amount of confidence. The dragon flung it's three barbed tails around the massive castle it called home. It stole the castle from the small kingdom Yondershire. The kingdom that no longer existed thanks to him. The people gave the dragon many names across the land, though the most common was simply Death. It fit as the color of the menace’s eyes matched bone perfectly.

        “Alone?” The dragon laughed showing his bloody teeth that still had bits of cattle stuck in them. “Been awhile since someone had the guts to come face me alone. Looking for some glory little human?”

         Leonard took a moment to respond. The dragon thought this odd. He'd grown used to humans acting quickly around him, usually out of hubris or fear. Leonard then replied, “Glory will be a side effect yes.”

        The dragon also found Leonard to small for the average cocky human. Usually the cocky ones that went after him were much larger to be so confident. He couldn't tell what the human looked like beyond his smaller than usual size because of all the armor he wore. An annoyance since he would have to rip it off to get at his flesh.

         “You're a little runt. And a side effect?” The dragon had a habit of playing or rather talking with his food before eating it if it didn't just wind up attacking him. Maybe it was because he tended to get bored. “Side effect of what?”

          Leonard wanted to phrase this properly. His mentor Steve taught him well. To live through life required more than the blade. And to get through this and save all the lands he would need to do what he must. “Why making us, and mostly you, rich.”

          “Oh?” Death almost grew bored of Leonard and killed him but now he grew interested.

          “I know you dragons collect treasure, and you must like some form of treasures,” Leonard kept speaking while holding his hands out in a friendly manner. “See you are the most powerful dragon to attack the lands right now and massive bounty on you. You help me fake your death like I killed you and we'll split the bounty. I'll buy whatever treasures you want with your share. Fifty-fifty split?”

          The dragon laughed. “How about I make you get the bounty and I take all of it in exchange for not killing you? Then yeah, I'll go off and go kill deer somewhere. There are plenty of dragon lands to go to.”

          Leonard smiled. He only really wanted to get rid of the dragon as was his knightly duty, but he wanted to make sure the dragon felt like he won so that's why he demanded the fifty-fifty split. Either way both of them lived happily ever after. Leonard with glory and pride in his heart and the dragon with a bounty of the ages.

Today's #flashfiction #JumpingOntoThePage

“Gimme a hand.”

Captain Hook* #quote

Cj and I did ehh in the Pokemon tournaments. But we had fun and we'll get better as time goes on(and I suppose I don't just go out and copy what everyone else is doing so I'm mostly trying to invent my own wacky scheme. Those don't always work.) Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Jumping Onto The Page

“Are you ready to jump?”

“No. I don't want to leave.”

“We can't stay in her mind forever.”

“But here I keep changing. Alive. Once I'm on the page I'll be words. I won't change.”

“But on the page you'll exist.”

“Until I get replaced by something better.”

“But that's a risk you'll have to take. And isn't that something for the greater good?”

“Why should I care?”

“Well you should care for her.”

“The writer? No.”

“But she creates us. All writers create us.”

“Doesn't mean I have to pay them back.”

“It's what we have to do.”

“No. I won't go on the page. The page can stay blank forever for all I care.”

“We can't let that happen. Less of us will be born that way.”

“I can't! I won't!”

“You need to. You have to. You won't do it alone. I'll jump at the exact time you do okay?”

“You will? You promise me? I'll do it if you go with me. I can't do it alone.”

“I promise. C'mon, let's go.”

“Okay.”

Today's #flashfiction #TheGameOfTheDeepOne

“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”

Colonel Sanders* #quote

Well CJ is coming over as planned, no super villain attacks got in the way as I suspected could have occurred. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Game Of The Deep One

       One day Cthulhu, the powerful elder god, purchased a video game. He liked it a lot. Like a lot, a lot, a lot. Like a little kid and cookies. So he decided to buy more video games. He totally got into gaming. He knew all the trivia and stuff even. And one day after realizing his true love of video games he decided to make his own.

      He gathered the other Deep Ones to help him come up with the game concept. The concept would be unspeakable without driving one mad(if one could find a way to sufficient explain it any human language) and to write it down would merely cause the same effect and make an invitation for any poor soul to read it to suffer the same madness as the person who transcribed the game concept. Only the Elder Gods and other mighty beings could comprehend the game concept and keep their minds in form.

      So woe to the programmers that Cthulhu hired to program the game for him. When they signed up to work for him they thought their boss was just using some sort of fantasy company name. But unfortunately the poor souls were wrong and in the end their mind was twisted when they met their boss and saw his True Form and learned of his game concept when he pitched it to them. But at least the pay was good along with the health plan.

      No game console in existence could handle his game. He had to use his powers to craft new one. The console had to twist the space around it to make colors and sounds that didn't exist before his game to display it. The factories that managed the console's and game's production had to be placed inside a sealed pocket universe as the power released by production would have destroyed our universe if let unrestrained.

      And so after production Cthulhu's game was released. Critics played the game and went mad from doing so. Some liked it. But those who gave it bad reviews promptly had their souls devoured by Cthulhu.

Today's #flashfiction #Doodlepocalpse

“I came in like a wrecking ball...”

Bob the Builder* #quote

Well, tomorrow CJ should be coming over. Also we should be going to a card game tournament and another the day after. Maybe if we're lucky and play our Pokemon cards right one of us will win one.

Doodlepocalpse

        The pink meteor descended upon the people of Doodle City. It collided into people's box homes and tore through the thin walls with ease. The strange meteor had properties like no other. It did not merely stop when it hit the arched waves in the lake. It rose up again and moved through more of the city. Then fell down again. Moved up and down.

        It kept destroying and destroying. The frail people with their round heads and stick bodies didn't stand a chance as it struck them again and again until they nothing remained. It ground the fur straight off the skin off the animals.

        The meteor spared not a single thing in Doodle Town. Not even the trees with their triangle stumps or the hexagonal rocks. The pink meteor dashed and crashed over the entire place until nothing remained but dust from the town and meteor. A great wind from the mouth of a titan then blew the dust away and no one would ever remember that the little town ever existed.

Today's #flashfiction #ADayInTheLifeOfLenWoodsTheTimeTraveler

“One fish two fish red fish blue fish.”

Jacques-Yves Cousteau*

Today I realized a realization. What can you say you accomplished today huh?

A Day in the Life of Len Woods the Time Traveler

7:00 AM- Len wakes up and eats breakfast. Looks at his plans for today's heist.

8:00 AM -Len travels back in time to ancient Egypt to steal a valuable item of his choosing.

9:00 AM -Len is shot to death by several officers after violently resisting arrest.

10:00 AM -Len returns from ancient Egypt with with the item to sell on the black market.

11:00 AM -Time police arrive at Len's mansion with arrest warrant for his abuse of time travel over the years. Len sees them and flees into his time machine. He grabs his portable time machine, which only allows time travel throughout the frame of a single day and flees.

NOON: With their technology the officers detect Len's use of a portable device and send some of their own in pursuit, leaving a few behind as backup.

1:00 PM: The backup officers die in a massive explosion.

2:00 PM: Officers arrive from the future and steal Len's car to prevent his escape.

3:00 PM: Len arrives from future and attempts to get his car and realizes the officers have taken it before getting close enough for them to notice. Starts fleeing to a friend's house.

4:00 PM: Reaches the friend's house who is also a fellow criminal, but on parole for her own time travel crimes.

5:00 PM: The time police come into the house to retrieve Len near the end of the hour.

6:00 PM: Len's friend apologies and says she needs any sort of reward money for Len's capture. Len retreats to 9:00

7:00 PM: Len's friend decides whether or not to call the time police upon seeing her friend. Decides to call them and keep the current timeline stable instead of canceling it and keeping her friend at her home.

8:00 PM: Len's friend cries herself to sleep.

9:00 PM: Len comes out a time portal from when he originally fled at 11:00. Seeing the front part of his mansion in ruin and an unstable time effect he pulls out a bomb from his belt, one of the many weapons he takes on his time travel trips and throws it back in time.

10:00 PM: Len gathers his valuables from the parts of his home that were not destroyed in the explosion.

11:00 PM: Officers arrive through a portal made from their own portable time devices. Len panics as he assumed he killed them all. He flees. The day is coming to close and he knows he can only leap forward when the next day comes. But leaping too close to the next day would destabilize the belt. He flees backward in time two hours.

MIDNIGHT: Officers close in on Len outside his home. They missed him in pursuit as he fled at 11:00, they travel further back in time, instead of going at 11:00 AM as they did the first time, they arrive at 9:00 AM

Today's #flashfiction #JohnsPride

“I just felt a chill run down my spine.”

Al Gore* #quote

Well today I seemed to have finalized the arrangements for CJ to come over this weekend. Hopefully everything rolls out as planned! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

John's Pride

         “Oops,” the teenage wizard muttered. Oops tended to be one of the worst words to hear a wizard say, even beyond some of the most terrifying spells, curses and enchantments. Because when a wizard made a mistake who knew what would happen. “Uh, maybe I should call someone.” He pulled his cellphone out from his jean pocket. The deep red color matched the font of the text on his black t-shirt. His shirt read “Master Caster”, a phrase catchy and cool in the wizarding world, though in the non-magical world his shirt would merit some stares.

         The shirt didn't describe him accurately at all though. His hair and eyes had been bleached white by a previous one, sharply contrasting his night-black skin. When people asked “John, why's your hair white?” He would pretend the entire thing was intentional. A prideful young man he wore the shirt as if he had all that magical talent and refused to see if he had other talents elsewhere. As he held his cellphone John hesitated to call someone because he didn't want to admit failure to someone.

        The spell the teenage boy intended to cast was simple. Make a sandwich. All the ingredients from the fridge and pantry would fly out and form together to make his lunch. A basic set of levitation spells. He didn't want to call for help because to wear a shirt saying “Master Caster” and telling someone you messed up a sandwich making spell just made you look ludicrous.

         Though blood coming out of the floor did make him start to reconsider saving his pride. Whatever he did seemed to have strange side-effects. The blood from the floor started to emit blue fire that didn't burn anything it touched or throw out smoke but still gave off heat. John only guess this meant that the fire existed in a non-physical plane and that he merely perceived heat.

         When the blood from the floor pooled into a large mass about four feet wide a demon emerged. Large with white and green alternating scales covering its body. Many limbs and heads came out from all over the beast and John had difficulty discerning what was an arm or a leg. John's pride still kept him from calling someone.

         “Mortal, you have summoned me.” The demon's voice fit no sex, only having the feeling of pain and anger inside of it. “Now to finish the contract of blood and darkness you must select the way that your world shall be destroyed and the souls of everyone in it.”

         At this point John called his parents.

Today's #flashfiction #PickupsJourney

“Hi Ho Hi Ho, Its Off To Work We Go!!”

The A-Team* #quote

Today I went found out that two wrongs don't make a right but three lefts do. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Pickup's Journey

         “I must get back and warn the colony!” the ant said to herself in ant-speak, a language of pheromones in the air or scrapes of the insects little legs. The queen named her Pickup when she hatched. Yes, ants held names despite how many of them there were. They are each individuals in a colony and most of what a queen does all day is eat, sleep and give birth so when all she does is think of babies then she's going to think of baby names. Pickup did do a good job of picking up things. (As should most ants, but she really did her namesake well, ants believed the name the queen bestowed held blessings within it.) And she picked up something more important than a mere object this day.

        She, unfortunately at first, got lost. Somehow lost the trail left by the other ants. Usually this meant only that if she was lucky she got back and in the worst case died. But Pickup picked up some information on her trip. She found a stash of poison. Normally ants, lacking the ability to read, wouldn't know the substance it. But by the luck of her antenna she had seen it wipe out a rival colony before. She recognized the bottle and knew the humans would dump whatever was inside onto their home if she didn't warn them.

        So she ran back as fast as her exoskeleton covered legs could. Pickup ran and ran. Drops of water began to fall. Rain would be coming. Normally she would dive for cover to avoid being smacked by miniature flood. But she couldn't stop. What if when the rain stopped was the time the human decided to use the poison on her home? Nothing should stop her marathon.

        The ground turned dark as the soil became wet and the rain became more heavy. As the rain drops grew they became boulders of liquid crashing into the ground and tearing specks of dirt around Pickup. Her perception became distorted by the rain. What vision the ant had was blocked by the sheet of water ahead. The rain washed away the pheromones. The wet ground absorbed the sensation of touch in her feet.

         She tried to navigate back to colony off of memory as she glided through her foggy confusion. Pickup's mission helped fight away the fear that clawed at her exoskeleton. But the fear of death started to feel like it would break through it and into her flesh. She felt like she could die at any moment, by the rain or some stray predator. But she had to get home. To the colony. Get there in the time.

        She saw the colony. At last. No ants around it. They already retreated into the mound of dirt. Pickup pulled herself up the mound, slowly. It felt nice and safe. A thump then came from behind her. A long rolling noise thereafter. She recongized it as a ribbit and dug quickly into the hill of the entrance of the colony. She knew she managed to avoid being seen, because if she had, she'd already be dead. After the frog thumped away she pulled herself out of the hill and ran into the entrance.

        Pickup returned home successfully, and talked to the queen. It was a rough journey but they managed to move the colony to another yard and avoid the human dumping poison into the hill the coming morning.

Today's #flashfiction #TheRiddlesOfTheCheerDemons

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

Wheel of Fortune* #quote

Today I found out Trix weren't just for kids, but they may make rabbits sick. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Riddles Off The Cheer Demons

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

We're the Cheer Demons...

And we've got some riddles for yoooou!

We think you'll find them fun...

And you'll love them a ton!

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

Here, there and everywhere.

It follows you where-where-ever you go.

It follows you where-where-ever you go.

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

Do you know what it is?

It's pain!

Yes...lovely..lovely little pain.

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

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

Isn't that great?

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Here's a second riddle from us Cheer Demons!

What's a present every person gets?

It can be given but never taken back...

Oh what, oh what is it?

It comes in so many, many forms.

If you want it people may call you crazy.

What is this gift?

What is this gift?

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

Because that special gift is death!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

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

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

Our horns and scales make it hard to get.

Oh so hard...

Oh so hard...

Our whipping tails makes it hard to get.

Oh so hard...

Oh so hard...

Our reputation too...

Oh so hard...

Oh so hard...

So what is this thing...

Why it's simple!

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

That's our last riddle for you...

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Doom-la Doom-la Doomly Doo!

Today's #flashfiction #AMagicPiratesLifeForMe

“I love visiting new places”

Kilroy* #quote

Well today I went to my card game thing. My usual card game thing is called “League” which is when you play and trade cards freely without any prizes. This coming weekend is going to be tournaments that'll I'll be doing with CJ that'll be run by people and have prizes(if I manage to place high enough that is).

A Magic Pirate's Life For Me

Yo ho, yo ho, a magic pirate's life for me!

My plunder is enchanted artifacts and ancient spell books worth ten times their weight in gold.

Yo ho, yo ho, a magic pirate's life for me!

I got a baby dragon instead of a parrot, the wenches are witches and my crew's all warlocks!

Yo ho, yo ho, a magic pirate's life for me!

Spells make my ship able to fly so it may sail the sky and sea.

Yo ho, yo ho, a magic pirate's life for me!

The cursed sword I swashbuckle with is made of fire and flares with every pierced heart.

Yo ho, yo ho, a magic pirate's life for me!

One day the soldiers of the Wizard's Guild Union capture my ship and arrest me on the high seas.

Yo ho, yo ho, a magic pirate's life for me...

Today's #flashfiction #TheMathematicianAndHisDream

“Drink responsibly.”

Dionysus* #quote

Today I went to my card game thing, tomorrow there shall be another. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Mathematician And His Dream

         Professor Mentine wanted to be a writer but his only skill was math. He could be called the very best at math. He grabbed a degree quickly and managed to teach while easily making equations on the side for whatever sciencey, mathmaticy thing that needed to be done. People hired him to work out an equation for making their processors run faster, or guiding missiles, or running their nuclear reactors, or optimizing their accounting. Any problem he could solve. Except for the fact he couldn't write for the life of him. Yet he wanted to make a story of some sort. He wanted to be creative. Make a book.

        His grandfather read him stories when he was young and made him love the written word. And eventually Mentine read on his own and even read the works his grandfather created and wanted to follow in his footsteps. Create stories to entertain and make people happy.

        But Mentine had little talent for coming up with ideas in a strong flow. He couldn't even copy ideas into a narrative that well, ripping off someone still required him to write some form of original flow of description and thought.

        But he tried and tried and worked on coming up with some form of solution. During one depressed evening of working on writing he just fiddled with his calculator. At that point an epiphany occurred worthy of him shouting “Eureka!” He decided he would use the talent he knew he had.

He would use mathematics to solve fiction.

        So he began studying movies, novels, comic books and every form of story he could get his hands on. He even filled his house with the sounds of old radio broadcasts. He scrawled numbers, words and notes on page after page of paper.

        It took him three years to reach his conclusion. He wrote a book and it got published with moderately good sales. He would sell again, but he certainly wouldn't be famous.

       “Doctor Mentine,” his editor said to him over the phone. “I must say your work is very mass appeal, though probably the most formulaic thing I have ever seen. Most of its originality is from a mix of a whole bunch of different formulas. You might need to add something, more...you if you want your book to make it big.”

       Formulaic? Mentine thought about the editors words. Formula did fit a mathematician though. Mentine scrawled a few numbers on paper after call. But there is more to math than formulas, and maybe more to books and stories than the patterns he found.

Today's #flashfiction #TheManAndHisMaze

“It has a nutty flavor.”

Sigmund Freud* #quote

        Going to my Pokemon card game thing tomorrow. Though one involves gambling and the other doesn't, and they both have completely different rules, Poker and Pokemon are both card games and start start with Poke. But yet you never poke anyone in either game. Weird. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Man And His Maze

        I think I'm the most unique person out there, besides my name John Smith. I'm unique because I don't exist in time like any of you other people. I can move between different parts of my life. Right now I'm at my seventh birthday party. How I could like such a noisy occasion is beyond me. Maybe I should go to my twenty-fifth. I act much more reserved then.

       But I don't remember where it is in my own time-maze. That's what I call it. I have to move around from time to time. Each point of my life jumping to another one sometimes years in the future or days or weeks. Or I can take turns by imagining I'm moving my body without moving it. Like jumping off a train. It's so interesting to be a time traverler of your own life. I'm so very unique no?

       Take a few turns around the maze. I think I noticed a new path around my bachelor party. That's odd. Such a strange path. I'm in an emergency room. My body's beat up pretty bad. My wife is sobbing.

       The doctor, looks at me, then her. Then says...I'm going to slip into a coma? Huh and now I'm back to a different path in my life all the way back to grade school. In the maze of my spreading space-time maze I don't think I ever found a spot past that point. But coma? That doesn't make sense. I know when I'm awake.

Today's #flashfiction #TheIncredibleAdventuresOfHuuman

“That's my boy!”

Darth Vader* #quote

        Tomorrow is Friday. If it were Fryday I may look forward to frying something, perhaps in a grill or via gasoline. But it's just normal Friday. Though depending on when you read this it may already be Fryday for you! Er, Friday. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Incredible Adventures Of Huu-Man

        On an alien planet oh-so-far away there existed a comic book that sold spectacularly well. Roughly translated it is titled “The Incredible Adventures Of Huu-Man”. The story is written by an astronomer/comic book artist who based his work off our own little planet, observing it with a probe he sent through a wormhole to our world. Here's the plot as follows(Translated from the blurb on the back of issue #232 now in their alien bookstores).

      “The Huu-Man is a fantasy comic book like you've never read before! The Huu-Man struggles each day to provide for his family. He lives in a diverse world of many of his kind, both good and evil, clashes with their morals and even his own. Their technology many levels lower than ours...but they aren't simple animals! Huu-man is clever and tough and will think and fight his way though many problems. Problems caused by his world and society. Comic book artist and writer Grftiafi Fragghi has invented a complete world full of life and wonder different from anything on our world for the characters to struggle and learn through.”

      The alien writer never told anyone that he based his work on us because he didn't want to be exposed. He got much praise for his work and won many awards and made a great deal of money. Though by him not telling anyone about his discovery is why we're not part of the Intergalactic Intelligent Species Alliance and are deprived of massive amounts of useful, shared technologies that could be helping us and curing diseases. But at least soon they'll make a movie out of his comic!

Today's #flashfiction #TheMythicalDragonsLament

 “I want my mummy.”

Indiana Jones* #quote

         It looks like CJ will be coming over not this weekend but the weekend after. There will be several card game tournaments, and we plan on going. Though I doubt most of ya care about Pokegossip the Pokemon card game US national champions have been crowned(multiple as there are age divisions for this multigenerational game...gosh Pokemon has been around forever, I do see parents, uncles, aunts showing their kids the game often and using it to spend time with them or teach them math and reading.). Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Mythical Dragon's Lament

        I'm so lonely. I have to stay in this magic temple and wait for people to pass the Trials of Power and Greatness. If they do I get to grant them each a wish. I don't get to leave so I don't have any friends or a girlfriend. It's sad. They leave quick after they get their wish. I made up this really, really long speech just so they have to stay longer. I also speak really long and dramatically. My normal voice is not a booming, thunderous thing but a bit more of a sort of Brooklyn/Mexican accent. Anyway I also work to make their wishes backfire just so they have to comeback and un-wish them. I really need the company. I'm so lonely. Oh! I have an idea. Could you please be my penpal? My address is 1700 Mystical Temple Lane. We can talk about so much like interior decorating(one of my big hobbies since I can't leave the temple I summon whatever furniture I want to decorate the place. People get confused when they see me, the mystical dragon sitting on a fashionable chair but I don't care. It makes them stay longer.) I also like video games. I can also play them from inside the temple. Solitaire too. Lot's and lot's of solitaire. I'm so lonely. Please be my penpal. I grant you a special wish and you don't even have to pass the Trials of Power and Greatness Pretty please?

       Sincerely,

      The Mythical Dragon

      PS: I changed my mind I'll give you two wishes...please write to me! I'll wait for you!

Today's #flashfiction #AnUnusualInterview

“I've got my eye on you.”

Big Brother* #quote

Today I caught the gingerbread man. It's all about the element of surprise.

An Unusual Interview

       “I'm not sure I can take you for the job,” the supervillain said to the applicant. The villain normally looked wore the most intimidating scowl he could muster to match the intimidating robotic body he had. His costume consisted of gray and black cloth that wrapped around the small portions of skin that still remained.

       “But I need the job!” the angel replied, pleading as her wings flapped. Her beauty didn't match the gloomy fortress of the villain. “Please Doctor Suffering...I'm a hard worker and will do whatever vile deeds you need done.”

        The supervillain replied, “I know you got kicked out of heaven...but still, I'm not sure that I can really employ an angel as a minion.” Doctor Suffering looked at the notes on his desk for the interview and the angels resume. “See Miss Whitewing, there's a certain element of reputation and image in the supervillain world. And most of the reason we follow this path is to put ourselves in our history books by staining its pages with our dirty deeds and vile image.”

       Whitewing then thought for a moment. After being rejected from heaven she wanted to follow the path of evil and also needed to make a living on Earth. Plus if minions could get high pay, which could get her a high lifestyle, something she grew accustomed too in heaven before being banished and becoming a fallen angel. “Sir, I'm ready to give you the vile image you desire. I'll stain these wings with blood, wear the colors and costume you need, and do what it takes to be the fallen angel that'll be right for you.”

     Doctor Suffering smiled. “Stained with blood? Well, I'm not paying for human blood, but I can see a bit of pig's or chicken's blood being put on your wingtips as decoration. Of course we'll tell everyone otherwise. We'll see how you do.”

Today's #flashfiction #TheSpellTree

“It's hammer time!”

Bob the Builder* #quote

Today I went to la la la land. I sent home a postcard. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Spell Tree

        The young witch with the help of her mother finally had readied her first spell tree for harvest. She plant her the seed in just the right place. She had to fertilize the soil with the bodies of goblins and water it with dragon's blood. The tree would gather dark magic and the greatest curses could be born from its fruit.

          At least that's what supposed happen with the spell tree of a normal witch.

          But this young witch had actually sprinkled fairy dust on the soil so that as the tree grew instead of creating dark magic, good, pure magic would grow. She had learned that this would happen from an old book tucked away in the back of her mother's spell book library. When the fruit became ripe she quickly took them off the tree. The mother thought that the fruit weren't even becoming ripe.    

        But when the mother finally found a ripe fruit she inspected it. She noticed how unusual it was and tasted it. From that taste she could tell it was not an dark magic fruit. She confronted the young witch and the young witch admitted to what she was doing. She told her mother she was taking them to market and selling the fruit to all the good wizards to save up money to buy a wand to cast good magic because her wand could only cast evil magic. She wanted to cast the good spells herself. The mother brought the young witch inside the house, spanked her and grounded her.

         What the young witch didn't tell her mother was that she actually took most of the fruit and planted it in the garden so that soon the entire garden would be filled with pure magic spell trees.

Today's #flashfiction #ExtremeSlothRacing

“Seek and ye shall find.”

Waldo* #quote

CJ's over today. We chillin'. Anyway onto the flashfiction!

EXTREME SLOTH RACING

        The TV channel “Animal Galaxy” airs its most popular program “Extreme Sloth Racing” everyday during the prime time hours with millions of people's eyes glued the to the screen.

        “Welcome back viewers,” the narrator said while a group of sloths hung from a tree with heavy metal rock music playing in the background. “Day twenty, third lap of the race and it seems the dark horse sloth Wrecker is pulling up on Blaze. Oh! But Wrecker loses some speed as he stops to scratch his back! Is this race in the bag for Blaze's owner?” At home people pulled forward to the edge of their seat looking at the action. “Oh, but Blaze falls asleep! A big curse here in any Extreme Sloth Racing competition! That could easily cost Blaze the lead and send the sloth into last if the others pull forward.”

        As the show went on a few places were exchanged as the sloths swung a few times between branches. Boos and cheers from couches and chairs far and wide occurred. And sometimes sobbing as people placed many bets on the sport. Gambling addicts may be eating only based on whether a sloth wins or loses.

        “Oh! Oh! I don't believe this! Blaze is awake! BLAZE IS AWAKE! In all my years of hosting this show I haven't seen a sloth wake up so quickly, it is just incredible. But still, the sloth is in last place. Wait, wait. Something else is happening!” A dramatic zoom and pan veers around the sloth.    “Yes, it is sauntering. Sauntering past all the competitors The fastest saunter probably in all the game! All the way to fifth, fourth, third, second, first...”

        Around the world people cheered for the incredible sloth as it finished the third and last lap in the race with its dynamic saunter that would go down in sports history.

Today's #flashfiction #ACrappyArgument

“You broke my heart.”

Robert Jarvik* #quote

Looks like CJ is coming over today. So yay! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

A Crappy Argument

      “This turd is mine sonny,” the old dung beetle proclaimed to the young one. “You got no right to it.”

        The younger dung beetle yelled back whacking his legs together aggressively. “And how do you figure that old man?”

        The old dung beetle walked up to the young one and stood on his legs almost human-like to make himself look taller and larger to the younger bug. “My family has been harvesting the cow-pie from this farmer's ranch for generations. This here is our land and territory. And I'll rip your wings straight off your body for the feces that rightfully belongs to us.”

         The young dung beetle considered his options. The poop he wanted to take from the old man looked to be the most glorious pile he'd seen. Nice, fat, fluffy and ready to be rolled up into a ball.   But worth a fight? He also wanted to save his pride. He could take on an old man right? Then again, maybe not this old man.

        The young dung beetle backed away and said, “Okay, okay, calm down. You can keep all your crap.”

         And so the young dung beetle walked away and found another poop-pile elsewhere to call his own, far, far away from the old man and the farm.