Thursday, April 30, 2015

Today's #flashfiction The Officer And The Being

“Use the Force, Luke.”
Sir Isaac Newton* #quote

        Today I went to my costuming club. Last meeting for awhile though, but hey, had some fun, and next year I hope the convention we'll hold will also be rad. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Officer And The Being

        Three hours. That's how long the military needed to dispatch proper aid. The Beings appeared in many places all over the world, but whenever they arrived somewhere new the military required time to create a new base of operations and bring all the necessary equipment to eliminate them. So my meager squad of ten officers, including myself, were stuck defending our little town tucked away in the middle of nowhere.
        One Being arrived at our town. It perched on the top of City Hall using five twisting appendages similar to spines ripped straight from the body covered in some form of clear slime. Hips covered in skin that resembled bloody bedsheets connected to these limbs. The skin of the hips led into a spherical body covered by thick armor made of strange, sparkling otherworldly metallic alloys. Symbols of a language unknown to humanity covered the armor. From the spherical body ten arms appeared in various places all of various sizes. The arms appeared to be made out of miniature storm clouds, condensed and flattened until they made the meat and muscle of a limb. I couldn't see a head on the thing. On all the Beings that ever appeared in their various forms no one ever had. This made it all the more terrifying. I couldn't tell if it was looking at me, or any of my fellow officers. Should I protect them or myself? I've seen them on the news, but in person they are go from being a terror to a nightmare.
        “Chief Smithson, do you even think we'll last long enough for the military to get here?” Officer Garfield was right. We may not last the three hours before the military arrived. Our town's population made us such a small speck that we only needed ten police officers. I used to live in a bigger city, dealt with problems like gangs. Headed out to this little place and became Chief hoping to just run the place till I retired. And now I left the gangs to have the luck to run across something that could vaporize me instead of shooting me.
       I set it up so all my officers took cover behind our squad cars. I talked to the military over the cellphone to at least get some guidance as to what to do. Nothing to stop the thing unfortunately. I wanted to pull out the last of all my gray hairs when they kept insisting to evacuate, and the only other option was to hide. The only road out of town lie beyond City Hall where the Being perched, making evacuation impossible.
      I whispered to my fellow officers. “Don't fire until it becomes aggressive. We're waiting it out.” A S.W.A.T. team might have something to fight this thing. However the only thing our town afforded our officers were a gun, taser, and pair of handcuffs apiece.
      “Yes Chief,” they all responded. Did I make the right choice? From all accounts bullets couldn't kill Beings. The military used a special kind of laser to do it. But my options involved slowing the thing down.
       We all watched the thing closely. It moved its arms and legs slightly. I tried to discern some intention. With an animal like a wolf you can look into their eyes and anticipate their actions that way. But with a Being and their strange bodies with unknown means of perception and lack of faces, I couldn't find a way to predict them. No eyes to stare into to find out what it thought. If it thought at all. People assumed the Beings had some form of intelligence because of how well they behaved in groups, but with how it stood there with its cloudy arms moving in the air like tree branches I didn't know how much of a mind it had.
       Waiting for it to move made time turn into an agonizing crawl. But I never ceased to keep alert, paranoid at its every movement. In the big city where I used to work, especially when I was young and my body wasn't this wrinkly beat-up peach color I'd spent hours and hours on stake outs.
So when the Being moved its arm in a way different than it had in quite some time I caught on. I noticed the creature begin to adjust its limbs out of place to control momentum and spring itself forward. My mouth opened and its spine-like legs pushed off the building at the same time.
      “Fire!” I yelled. Most of our bullets hit the creature in mid-flight. It crashed into the squad car two of my officers and myself were using as cover. The impact blew me back. I couldn't see a single bit of damage on it. At least physical. When I looked at the Being its stood differently on the rubble of the squad car. When it perched on the squad car, completely surrounded, it appeared neutral with no form of definitively expression. I've never seen a being show anything but that still neutral stance or the movement of attack. Here though its arms moved pulled away from me, along with all its legs pulling slightly backward. All like someone carefully backing up against a wall when faced with a wild animal.
          I didn't harm it, but did I scare it? When I thought of the past few moments, I could think of only one thing, I predicted the thing. Shot as it moved. The beast stood tranquil only to surprise and I reacted fast enough. Faster than I even did in youth. I did feel an obligation to the people in this town and the officers I looked over as Chief. But also I will admit my own self-preservation must have played a role.

          More time passed, a lot more time. I soon heard the loud sound of choppers. The military? They'd come to kill the Being. How long did it stand on the squad car? How long did it stand in fear, and my officers keep looking at it in fear after their first barrage of bullets did nothing? I will never know the specifics, but I know it's long enough to tell me that any intelligent living thing, no matter how powerful, feels fear.

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

Today's #flashfiction He Finally Took Over The World

“One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish.”
Long John Silver* #quote

Tomorrow I'll be heading to my costuming club, it'll be the final meeting, but hey, most of us will be wearin' costumes. (We don't always, as well, that'd be a little silly and difficult to wear costumes to ever meeting.) Anyway onto the flash fiction!

He Finally Took Over The World

            “I did it! I finally did it!” Dr. Evilplan said with the biggest evil laugh ever made in villain history. “I took over the world!” All the world's superheroes had been defeated by him and lay comatose at the entrance of his lair. He had used his super-power-taker-raygun to take all of their superpowers without taking any of their weaknesses. He then used the stolen super speed from The Quickster to steal all the nuclear arms and held the world hostage. His face had a smug smile adorned TV screens all over the world as the made this announcement, everyone was cowering in fear. “Who would he bomb first?” they asked themselves. Fearing a nuclear strike all the countries around the world surrendered.
           “So now what Sir?” his robot minion Stevetron asked after the announcement had finished, the heroes still comatose in his lair.
           “What?” Dr. Evilplan looked at his robot minion confused.
            “Now that you've taken over the world what are you going to do?” the robot repeated in his synthetic voice.
            “I-I” Dr. Evilplan stuttered, he had gotten accustomed to the superheroes foiling his plans. “Um, first we should have a party to celebrate taking over the world!”
            “With who? You're a loner mad scientist, you have no friends.” Stevetron responded.
            “I could kidnap some people and make them be at my party!” Dr. Evilplan yelled.
             “I don't think that would work out.” Stevetron responded.
              “Fine, well, I go make other people do my bidding! Just to show off my power!” Dr. Evilplan laughed.
              “And what bidding would you have them do?” Stevetron asked.
            “I could have them clean my lair!” Dr. Evilplan yelled.
            “But I do that already. I did that today. After lunch. You even complimented me on a job well done.” Stevetron bragged.
            “I could have people statues of me!” Dr. Evilplan proclaimed.
             “But you hate even having people see pictures of you, why would you want someone to look at a full scale monument of you?” Stevetron asked. Dr. Evilplan just paused instead of answering the question,
             “I could oppress people to show them how incredibly evil and powerful I am!” Dr. Evilplan then cackled.
           “But sir, you wouldn't oppress anyone, you've never used any weaponry beyond a stun gun and the superheroes you stole powers from will wake up in twenty minutes otherwise completely unharmed. Sure you did steal all the nuclear weapons but you would never use them. Thank goodness none of the nations called your bluff. You wouldn't kick a dog.”
          “W-whatever! I just like leaving hostages.” Dr. Evilplan then frowned, “Fine. No use lying to you.”
            “Sir, if you don't mind me asking, why did you want to take over the world in the first place?” Stevetron asked.
            “Um, well. I guess I was bullied in school a lot then I decided that by taking over the world I would show I was much more powerful, cooler and better than them.” Dr. Evilplan rubbed his legs together, almost like a cricket. It was an odd habit he had since he was a child that he did whenever he felt incredibly awkward.
             “I'm sorry to be so blunt Sir, but I don't think you thought this through. You could have shown up all the bullies by becoming powerful through absurd amounts of wealth. Your a super genius and you've invented hundreds of spectacular technologies. Take me for example, I'm a sentient robot. Couldn't you have patented my schematics then used me to make billions? You could have done that. Your name isn't even really Dr. Evilplan, its Dr. Smith.” Stevetron said to his master.
An awkward silence followed unlike any awkward silence that has ever existed or will exist. Then after a few moments Dr. Evilplan snapped his fingers.
           “I know what we can do Stevetron!” Dr. Evilplan smiled.
           “What's that?” Stevetron, if he could, would have smiled himself. Based on the expression on his master's face it looked like his master had an epiphany. Stevetron was looking forward to the end of all this nonsense.
             “We will take over the UNIVERSE!” Dr. Evilplan yelled with an evil laugh that echoed throughout his lair. “We will first head out to the planet XRF-9 I heard it was the home base of the Awesome Alliance of Interglatic Mega Superheroes! Yes, soon the universe will be ours! After all, if I can take these superheroes's powers I can certainly take theirs, its the perfect evil plan! Muawhahahaha! Quickly, ready the spaceship!”

              “Yes, of course... Sir” Stevetron groaned in his synthetic voice. 

Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Hands On Learning

“Build a better mousetrap, and the world will beat a path to your door.”
The Pied Piper* #quote

        Today I spent a great deal of time trying to negotiate a lift on the tariff for mined Moon cheese. However it seems that the government won't budge so we'll have to keep dealing with these high prices for it.

Hands On Learning

         Little Barry teetered between the age of a baby and a toddler. His father, an architect, bought him more building blocks than any other toy. So many building blocks they filled half the child's room. The architect felt his son must learn the craft of building.
And so, with the blocks scattered in front of him little Barry built. After making some errors and learning how the ins-and-outs of stacking, he mastered the craft. A chip of the old block created a gargantuan city of block structures that formed enough towers to make a city and a large tower in the center that dominated it all.
        Then with a simple accident he knocked over one of his structures. This felt different than an error in learning how to build. The tower tumbling down created an epic spectacle for Barry. A crash loud and wondrous. Soon he emulated and knocked every tower in his city to the floor, savoring every block's rattle, shake, bash, and rumble.

        His father succeeded in teaching little Barry to create...but also to destroy

Monday, April 27, 2015

Today's #flashfiction A Feathered Real Estate Dispute

“Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes.”
Poseidon* #quote

          Yesterday when hanging out with Jessica I played one of her Japanese games(since she's a Japanese college major she gets Japanese video games). The game was Hey You Pikachu(There was an English version made). Anyway in it you talk to Pikachu with a microphone, but it was the Japanese version so you had to talk to the Pikachu in Japanese. For the sake of shenanigans I was the one playing it despite the fact I know pretty much no Japanese with Jessica helping me with what to say into the microphone attached to the game. Sometimes when it didn't listen I yelled at the Pikachu in English and for some reason a few times that managed to be successful. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

A Feathered Real Estate Dispute

           Two doves landed on a bird house at the same time. They ruffled their tooth-white feathers at each other and jabbed their heads forward. They clawed the roof of the bird house. Their heights and weights matched so closely that the most experienced bird watcher couldn't tell which bird was older. The specific age didn't matter as both doves reached maturity and wanted their nests. And both knew a birdhouse could be the best nest. Weather proof, with humans even giving them free food and additional protection. The dove on the western side of the house inherited her mother's name of Gentle Breeze while the dove on the eastern side was named Long Spring because she was born in an exceptionally long season. The names are sound better and come off great for mating songs in the dove language.
         “This nest is mine!” Gentle Breeze shouted in dove. The shriek would sound beautiful to a human ear and certainly would be classified as a gentle tweet.
          “No, it is mine! Find your own!” Long Spring yelled back another beautiful tweet.
           This argument didn't become any more complicated than the two birds tweeting back and forth at each other. The old married couple that lived at the house came out and sat on the porch in front of the house. They couldn't tell the gender of the birds so they assumed it was two birds in a mating song falling in love. For hours the old couple talked while the birds “sang” and enjoyed the wonderful sounds. Eventually Long Spring and Gentle Breeze started pecking at each other while the old couple began to think that they saw the first dove kisses.

           The beautiful "song" between Gentle Breeze and Long Spring ended when a massive dove came down onto the bird house. The two arguing birds bolted as this third resident, named Gargantuan Egg because of how large her egg was, asserted that she owned the bird house now. She built her nest and lived happily ever after.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

Today's #flashfiction If Everything Had A Fantasy/Sci-Fi Spin-Off

“I'm just singing in the rain.”
Noah* #quote

       Today I'll be headin' to my friend Jessica's place for some hanging of the out. Before all that the family is headin' to the movies for the watchin' of the movies to celebrate the birthday of my Mom. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

If Everything Had A Fantasy/Sci-Fi Spin-Off

Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale,
A tale of a fateful trip
That started from this intergalatic port
Aboard this tiny spaceship.

The mate was a mighty sailing man,
The skipper brave and sure.
Five passengers warped out that day
For a three hour tour, a three hour tour.

The wormholes started getting rough,
The tiny ship was tossed,
If not for the courage of the fearless crew
The spaceminnow would be lost, the spaceminnow would be lost.

The ship set ground on the shore of this uncharted desert planet
With Xilligan
The Skipper too,
The millionaire and his genetically-engineered wife,
The alien movie star
The mad scientist and Mary Ann the Cyborg,
Here on Xilligan's Planet.

So this is the tale of the castaways,
They're here for a long, long time,
They'll have to make the best of things,
It's an uphill climb.

The first mate and the Skipper too,
Will do their very best,
To make the others comfortable,
In the tropic planet nest.

No phone, no lights no teleporters,
Not a single luxury,
Like Robinson Crusoe,
It's primitive as can be.

So join us here each week my friends,
You're sure to get a smile,
From seven stranded castways,
Here on "Xilligan's Planet."

Saturday, April 25, 2015

Today's #flashfiction The Wizard's Morning Paper

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

Today I conquered my card game thing, tomorrow the world card game thing! Wait, something about that doesn't sound right. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Wizard's Morning Paper

         Danar the Wise opened up his newspaper. He was a wizard known for both his incredible magical powers. But also he was a wizard known for his incredibly poor eyesight so he had to wear massive glasses that pressed against cheeks. He read the paper the same he read his magic scrolls, carefully and slowly, with a sort of precision that fit surgery. He always skipped the front page article and went directly to the tiny little article tucked right under it. He couldn't remember where he picked up that habit. It had been ingrained in his dusty old brain for too long.

World Record: 14 Dragons Born in one Litter

        The wizard read the title of the article, and became quite shocked at first. But as he read on his shock grew into anger. His fingers tightened around the newspaper and started to crush it.
        “Those idiots!” he roared, “They didn't do their research. The world record is fifteen.” he remembered Xanna the Red Witch, just twenty years ago her dragon had fifteen dragons. He stood up and stormed around while waving the paper in the air. He was furious at the sloppy research of this paper, not believing that a professional paper would goof up. He decided he would write them a letter scolding them. Then he thought of going there himself and saying it straight to their faces. He then decided that he would cast a curse on their editor, though Danar couldn't decide what kind of curse was justified for such a mistake.

       Then Danar remembered that Xanna's dragon didn't have fifteen dragons, it had thirteen dragons. They were right, fourteen was a world record. He laughed, sat down and continued reading.

Friday, April 24, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Evil Never Pays

Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid.”
Rambo* #quote

Tomorrow I'll be heading to one of my collectible card game things. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Evil Never Pays

         “I'm here to defeat you Doctor Terrors!” run-of-the-mill super hero Empowered Man yelled. Empowered Man had a few super powers along with his super strength and durability, but he didn't have years of experience either. But neither did Doctor Terrors.
          “How'd you get here so quickly!?” Doctor Terrors didn't expect anyone to be able to get through his fortress so soon.
           Empowered Man shrugged and replied, “Your henchmen told me how to get past your traps. None of them stopped me either. One was even kind enough to give me directions to the drinking fountain too. I suppose it'd make sense since they all told me their paychecks bounced.”
          Doctor Terrors pulled out his cellphone and dialed up his accountant and with a professional, but annoyed tone(some villains try to give out a collected vibe to remain intimidating). “A hero here is telling me that all my henchmen have their checks bounced...” Doctor Terrors grew angrier, he fidgeted with the pens in the pocket of his black labcoat. “What do you mean I'm out of money? Yes, you told me I was low on funds, but not that low. The money I robbed from the banks should cover that. What do you mean that isn't nearly enough to cover my henchmen, lair and my evil plan? I blew everything on my device?”
          The lights began to flicker and went out, and next Doctor Terrors's phone died.

          Empowered Man laughed. “Looks like you couldn't pay the power bill either.” He then struck a heroic pose that Doctor Terrors couldn't witness even if he wanted to. “And fortunately for the powers of justice, my powers allow me to see in total darkness.”

Thursday, April 23, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Jerry's Spell

“On the road again...”
Frogger* #quote

Going to my costuming club today. So much fun will be had I suppose! Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Jerry's Spell

         A young wizard named Jerry and a young knight named Ron fancied themselves for adventure. A common past time for knights and wizards of their age who felt particularly reckless. While setting up the tent for camp Ron watched Jerry prepare a spell.
        “So now that I've gathered the ten varieties of berries from the woods I can mix them together in this cup.” Jerry mumbled magic words as he mixed the berries for thirty minutes. “I will use this concoction to write the core of the spell on this blank scroll.” The writing took about twenty minutes.           Ron finished setting up the tent long ago and now already took off the heavier pieces of his armor that wouldn't allow him to move well around camp. Jerry continued narrating himself, Ron wondered if this was to help him keep track of what he was doing or if he just wanted to show off all the things he did as a wizard. “Then I rub candle wax on the scroll right before placing a few other items like spider's web on it.” The application of the rest of the spell components took another thirty minutes. “Then with a flick of the wrist...”
         The scroll turned into a ball of fire that flew straight for the wood they'd gathered for the campfire.
Jerry smiled. “And now our campfire is lit! Amazing isn't it?”

         Ron groaned, “Yes, yes, so amazing. But how about next time we light the campfire the normal way?” He wanted to start cooking dinner about forty five minutes ago. 

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Revolting Zombies

“It's not easy being green.”
Bruce Banner* #quote

Today I marched with the penguins. They are really, really slow. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Revolting Zombies

          I've been a necromancer for many, many years. Hundreds in fact. It's a privilege you gain when sacrificing souls to extend your own lifespan. So I haven't died yet and with flesh magic I've managed to make myself still as attractive as I was when I was twenty. My magic never did stand on the legal side of the thing so I was forced to adjust my face as well. It forced law enforcement to update the wanted posters, I've managed to maintain a collection of various “WANTED: Necromancer Fillian Daniels” posters. It crossed my mind several times to change my name but there's a charm to have a legacy.
           I combed my black hair and rubbed the smooth black skin of one of my new faces when a voice addressed me quite angrily, but also with a hint of nervousness.
         “We demand better maintained bodies as well as compensation for our services,” the voice said. I planned to next change from my casual black wizarding robes that I wore around the home to a suit because I had a date with a more mortal person this evening, but apparently someone chose to ruin my day. I turned to see one of my many zombies as the source of the voice. And behind him stood more zombies. Right now I hid out in an old abandoned temple on the west side of a mountain. Most of them were supposed to be out farming or doing other tasks, none of them were supposed to be inside the temple. But I couldn't even see into the next room through the zombies. Had they all abandoned their duties?
          “You've got to be joking.” I raised these people from the dead. Pulled their souls back into their bodies. Well, actually not necessarily their souls. Really to make a zombie you can just get enough parts and attach any soul you can get from the afterlife. If I didn't have enough power and spell components to get a human soul sometimes I got an animal soul. I knew I at least made a few out of cat and dog souls I think one with a squirrel.
         The zombie continued, “We are not joking. When one of use got a hold of your magic books we realized you cannot unbind our souls from our bodies and most all the things you claim you can do to torture us. If you made us mindless zombies then yes. But no, you made us advanced zombies. The only thing we have to fear is society shunning us and body decay.”
        Another zombie spoke up, this time a woman. She seemed more confident. Perhaps one of the leading ones that possessed enough charisma and courage to lead the zombies to this ridiculous notion they can fight against me. “So you're asking for body repairs, but what about the money?”
         A third one began to speak, “Money works for us,” I hope that too many don't speak, if there isn't central leadership focused on one or two of the zombies that means that taking them all down could be a problem. The third one continued with a toothless smile, “because some people don't care where money comes from.”
         I laughed. Hard. I forgot about previous notions of the difficulty of taking any form a leadership down. Spending money? They must have been thinking of this for quite awhile to even come across the notion of buying things as zombies. I wondered now if they thought I'd give in and they'd get to just have all they wanted handed to them. I'd repair their bodies and they'd get paid. I bet they imagined buying pretty little houses on hills for all the zombie families to live and buying pretty zombie clothes and getting all sorts of zombie things by being some sort of employees.
        “No,” I replied, “You're just standing corpses. Why would I listen to you?” I then looked at the zombies when my tears of laughter subsided. I saw anger in the zombie faces, even the ones who had very little in their faces left to express anger with. They showed their anger in the way they stood too, all of them, but especially the ones who didn't have faces to show me their fury normally. They way they stood resembled a tense animal before pounce mixed with a tense form like clenched fist but through the whole body.

           One of the shorter zombies among them walked out, he looked extremely calm and collected despite the other's anger. “It seems that you don't understand Mr. Daniels. Necromancers have difficulty making zombies so it is a large job market. We can find another to meet our demands. For now, we'll just turn you in for your ransom.” The rest of my zombies leaped at me. I assumed they'd stumble at me with a slow walking pace, but they moved faster than I anticipated. It didn't take long before they disarmed me of all my magical items, I couldn't reach for anything in time. I never expected zombies to have the strength of will to band against me, the only person more surprised than me that day was the royal guard who the zombies presented me to while demanding their bounty for my arrest.

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Cat Court

“Think outside the box.”
Erno Rubik* #quote

I consider myself a man of many tastes. One of them being salty. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Cat Court

           Judge Halton worked hard to keep his professional demeanor. He considered enforcing the law his most sacred duty. He spent many years devoted to it, making sure that any and all decisions fit everything perfectly. He dealt with many people who exploited loopholes, and despite his mental protests he felt he didn't exist to be someone to just bend the law as it fit him. But what the defense argued mocked the law.
           “And so it is Mr. Huggles that owes the plaintiffs the ten million, not any of my clients.” The defense lawyer wore a fancy smile and suit. He cut his brown hair in a simple, serious way that didn't match his ludicrous argument. However when Judge Halton looked into the lawyer's eye's he could tell that the lawyer must have been aware of the whole Huggles scheme for the entire time it'd been laid out. The defense attorney had no problem presenting his premise.
           Mr. Huggles slept in the courtroom, like most cats would. The jury even began to accept the twisted logic of the longer they stared at the cat. Jared Ronald showed years of documentation about his client's corporation. Or at least what people thought was their corporation. For years it actually belonged to the cat and all the people worked for the cat. Since it had been established in law that people could give possessions to pets, even trusts, the people who created the corporation first set it up how they wanted it operated, set themselves up as employees, then gave all ownership to the cat.             Their plan paid off since years later they managed to dirty their hands and ran into a class action lawsuit for ten million, but all the money and debt fell onto the corporation and the cat. The cat can't even properly file a settlement check, though they set it all up so that the employees could keep running the corporation.
         The prosecutor responded, attempting to keep his professionalism as much as Judge Halton, “You can't expect us to just accept the fact that everyone should collect the compensation for all the injuries from a cat?”
          Ronald replied, “That's what you'll have to do. My clients are just innocent employees. Mr. Huggles owns the corporation.” The defendants added another devious layer to their scheme by making sure that technically no one owned the cat either.
         Judge Halton clawed into the deep recesses of his mind. He wanted to see if something blew this straight out of the water. This insult to the law. He glanced at the prosecution and could see they were doing the same. Normally as a judge he would purely be neutral, but this whole thing became personal to him. A slap to the face. But no matter how asinine years of paperwork showed the cat being owner. These abusers of the law worked for years to set up this loophole and they tightened Mr. Huggles as their ultimate fall guy. So many people hurt by what they did and they hid behind a little animal. “Come on Thorton.” He muttered the name of prosecution under his breath. Find something. Make sure the jury doesn't convinced by something so stupid.
The prosecution began to reveal a stupidly happy grin, but then stowed it away for a more serious face. James Thorton figured he should keep professional when presenting his next counter-argument.         “The prosecution does not accept your premise. Mr. Huggles cannot be owner of the corporation, your clients still are.”
         “What!?” The defense quickly grew angry. Years of preparing and maintaining the loophole made any challenge to it something that he couldn't accept.
          Thorton continued, “The corporation never changed hands since Mr. Huggles cannot legally own a corporation. None of the defendants own him, they label him as a stray. Therefore we cannot prove that Mr. Huggles is a legal citizen. Now if you want to argue against that reason for being unable to own a business I can find another. However this means that all the money your clients have been taking out of the corporation as payment should have been staying in since Mr. Huggles couldn't have automatically paid them like it was written in the original corporation documents.” The defendants set up the corporation to operate without the owner, allowing them to get paid without the cat technically doing anything. “One thing is for sure, my clients are owed a settlement from the corporation, which had no funds itself. You admitted they were owed a settlement, just that the cat had to pay it. But now it has become apparent your clients own the corporation and need to pay the dues.”

          The jury nodded in agreement. The prosecutor smiled along with the judge. The defense attorney clenched his fist. Mr. Huggles meowed.

Monday, April 20, 2015

Today's #flashfiction The Bandit Wizard

“You can't teach an old dog new tricks”
Ivan Pavlov* #quote

Today I figured I'd read a reed that was red and read before. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Bandit Wizard

           The wanted wizard's beard didn't have the white color stereotypical of most spell crafting men. They only managed to grow the long, white beards after many years of training and old age. I chased a man with a only the modest, black beard of a middle-aged man. Though despite the fact he didn't reach the age of an elder caster my target managed to stir up a great deal of trouble. The Unified Wizard's Guild placed a huge bounty on bringing him in, and one I intended to take.
           The papers named him “The Bandit Wizard”. Thousands of criminal wizards stole all across the world, but “The Bandit Wizard”, true name Keith Garreth, managed to create a quick, able-bodied force of bandits. He struck in many places in many lands and avoided staying in one place long. Keith hit targets of opportunity, even if a large target passed, if it had too many guards he didn't strike it. He hid deep in the wilderness where a coordinated search with large parties to find him would be very difficult to organize and maintain. Even with all my years of experience it took me an incredibly long time to find him.
          When I looked at him I could tell though, despite all the strategy and hiding he was an arrogant man who thought he was smarter than everyone else. A truly cautious and humble man wouldn't dress like a wizard, so along with the beard I saw him in expensive, blue, silk robes while waving around a golden wand. His loot must have given him the ability to decorate himself thoroughly, as he also wore expensive, gaudy rings. Keith Garreth announced himself to anyone that could get near enough. Like he challenged the world and expected no one to best him.
          I next took a look at all his troops. Twenty in all. I noticed they wore expensive items too. Seems he spread the wealth quite well to keep a loyal set of minions, though I really doubt that he actually cared for them. Did any of them catch on? Two men with enchantments to increase their ability to see and perceive appeared to be scanning the wilderness. If I possessed lesser magic then I would have been spotted. All of them carried swords with mild durability enchantments attached to them. From this I gathered “The Bandit Wizard” might have very weak magic, but to underestimate my foe could lead to danger.
          “Keith Garreth and his accomplices in all criminal activities! The Unified Wizard's Guild has placed a warrant for your arrest. I, Ranel Teth, have been legally empowered by The Unified Wizard's Guild to bring you in. I have also been legally empowered by The Unified Wizard's Guild to use force to bring you if necessary!” I yelled loudly from my cover. I hated how I had to say that to every criminal. My job would by a lot easier if I didn't have to say that before even touching anyone.
           The Bandit Wizard yelled in response, “Men, ready your weapons and look everywhere! Find the bounty hunters then kill them all!” He made quite the mistake, I operated alone. No one worked with me. I couldn't work with someone if I tried. I decided to show them this with my first attack.
          I jumped at four men who searched the bushes nearby for me and slammed them with my barbed tail. Because my demon species are meant to torture humans our poison doesn't kill, but it does hurt and temporarily paralyze and these poor saps didn't wear armor. Sixteen bandits and one “Bandit Wizard” left. I pulled some smoke bombs from my yellow dragon-skin jacket and threw them in the middle of their camp. Since I moved so quickly all my concealment enchantments wore off.
          “What's going on?” one of the bandits asked in a loud, confused yelp.
          “Is it night already?” another added, more casual and oblivious. He must have been the dumb one in the group.
           The remaining sixteen bandit thugs swung widly at the smoke around them. I heard a yell. One grazed another with their sword. Not lethal damage, but enough to make the whole group paranoid. I quickly hit another four with my tail.
           Wind cut through the whole camp. The harsh gust blew away all my smoke with perfect precision. Garreth held his wand up high in one hand and a spell book in another.
            I first saw a proud face on the man. He enjoyed finding a solution to his smoke problem. But when he looked at me it turned to one of shock, “A demon? You're the bounty hunter?” One of the many reactions I get, I'm used to it. And it's impossible to hide. Along with my barbed tail, my red skin, four horns and multicolor eyes tend to give it away.
           I nodded. “Yes, and I've been legally empowered by The Unified Wizard's Guild to take you in. I've already taken out eight of your men. Please come along peacefully.”
            The Bandit Wizard laughed a smug laugh, like when an adult laughs at a child. “Lucky you. I don't know why a demon is hunting bounties, but you're easy enough to take care of. I'll send you right back to where you came from. Men, stall him, I need to find the right spell, stall him.”
            The remaining bandits rushed me. Their leader must have put some confidence for them to throw themselves at me after I already took out eight of them. I carried no weapons on me. My tail was my greatest weapon and by not having manufactured weapons like swords or daggers I could pass by checkpoints in lands much quicker. I threw another smoke bomb. I swung my tail freely while the bandits hesitated to attack. No wind came to blow away the smoke. I realized my fears. The Bandit Wizard was focusing on finding something in his book to take care of me permanently at the cost of his men being damaged. I fought hard and quickly and managed to take care of all the subordinates of Garreth.
               The Bandit Wizard smiled when I dashed at him. He had his wand on some spell in his book. Whatever he wanted to find in the tome he did. “This is where you leave this world forever! By the names of Xan and Xon I bind thee demon of four horns to the realm where you were born, never to travel to another plane of existence!”
             His wand shot a blast of lighting at me, or at least strange magic in the form of lighting, but nothing happened. It didn't hurt, and I didn't go anywhere. I then charged at him and hit him with my tail.
             The Bandit Wizard yelled, “No! You should be gone! Back to the dark, horrible, place where you were born!”
               I laughed then said to him, “Ah, I understand now. You poor criminal. A demon doesn't have to be born in Hell you know. I'm a mortal plane native, that's why I live a life of catching criminals instead of torture or soul stealing.”

              Soon I bound all the criminals with the magic chains I carried and contacted the Unified Wizard's Guild. I wondered what thugs I'd bring in next. I'd always wanted to be more official police, but they're pretty discriminatory against demons.  

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Roy's Singing

"I've got all the time in the world."
Big Ben* #quote

Seizures were down today so that's good news. Also no alien invasions on my side of the block so that;s good news as well. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Roy's Singing

        Roy Scottson had become the number one singer in America, no, the world. His talent was awe inspiring. But it wasn't the talent that sold the CDs and tickets. People enjoyed his performances because of his passion. That passion that all those music critics, snobby or casual, ask for in their stars, he had more than any star before him. He filled every single one of his performances with real passion.
          Thing is he actually hated singing.
           The passion in his performances didn't come from singing, dancing or playing guitar but it came from the crowd. But not the crowd themselves. When they cheered it brought back the memory of the night that he met his wife. He met her at karaoke night where his friends dared him to perform because he hated getting in front of crowds. While he was singing and finding out he actually had talent their eyes met in a lovey-dovey romance movie fashion. After he performed she walked up to him and they hit it right off. Too perfect to be true but it was. Despite his talent he didn't sing for years afterward, he didn't like it, it felt awkward and harsh to him on his throat.
          But after his wife died he went to a restaurant with his friend. But before he ordered his friend said to him. “Hey this place has karaoke! Didn't you meet your wife because I dared you to do it? His friend convinced him to do it in memory of his wife despite his reluctance. When he performed and it brought back the old memory in such wonderful vividness he loved it and ever since whenever he performed in front of crowd the memory returned. He became addicted to the memory. Stalking karaoke joints and sometimes skipping meals. When he got a contract from a company he never stopped going on tour. Singing itself still felt awkward and harsh on his throat, and it wasn't something any cough drops could fix, it was how his vocal cords were set up, but he always wanted to re-experience that memory. Though he had to perform in front of a crowd to bring back the memory, simply singing in the shower wouldn't do. He performed to bring that memory to him until the day he died in accident that headlined every newspaper.

         Then there was Amanda. One of the few people in the world who didn't like Roy Scottson's singing, at times she even hated some of the melodies. But for many years after Roy's death she kept his albums and listened to his songs. This was because they brought back memories of her dead father, a massive Roy Scottson fan.  

Saturday, April 18, 2015

Today's #flashfiction So You Think You Can Be A Space Captain?

“Ding dong the witch is dead!”
Hansel* #quote

Today was father's birthday and we had ice cream cake of the mint chocolate chip variety. I recommend it as it is delicious and gives you immunity to mind control.

So You Think You Can Be A Space Captain?

         “Welcome back dear audience for the LIVE season finale of So You Think You Can Be A Space Captain?” a man in a purple, sparkling suit said while stood next to three other people in green space cadet uniforms sitting on a large blue couch. The cadet uniforms were full of unnecessary folds and highly impractical. They weren't actual cadet uniforms, as this was just a reality show, for just, well, show. The real space cadets at home were probably laughing their back space thrusters off looking at them. “Over the season you've seen the contestants battle for these slots in the final four.You've seen them voting each other off. You've seen them competing in simulations to becoming Captain of the week. You've seen them live the life on quarters of the spaceship we've brought down here to Earth for them. You've seen them eat foods from other planets. You've experienced the galactic experience along with them and tonight one of them will win our 100 million galactic credit prize and a tour of our own solar system's Captain's Academy! And that winner will be determined after this commercial break we'll be right back, LIVE!” As soon as the commercial came the host pulled out a bottle of water from his pocket and chugged it. “By space, live is easily my least favorite word in the dictionary. This suit is an oven.” The host pulled off the suit to reveal a shirt soaked it sweat. He practically collapsed when he sat down.
            “So, if you win, what are you going to spend the prize money on?” Tom, the contestant on the left side of the couch, asked Samantha, the contestant on the right side of the couch.
             “I'm going to give it all to charity duh.” Samantha responded with a smile.
              “Liar.” Jerry, the contestant in the middle interjected.
             “Fine. New wardrobe, then charity.” Samantha groaned. Tom then laughed his trademark laugh. Throughout the competition he always laughed and it made him quite the character. The producers always made sure they had a camera set right on him. They made him out to be the “quirky guy”.
           “We all know we're all going to blow the money. We're all human after all. The real question is on what. I hope we have sense to not quit our jobs when we get it, after all I bet its going to go to our heads. Y'know. I wonder, maybe the person who gets the money may actually turn out to be the loser!” Tom laughed again. Tom's laugh could be endearing or annoying, sometimes both at the same time.
        “Well what do you think we're going to get?” Jerry asked Tom.
         “Hmm...Samantha's going to get a massive mansion with a beach side view, with a room dedicated solely to her clothes and closet full of shoes she will never wear as she will have only two pairs of heels she'll actually like enough wear as the rest are just ones she bought out of impulse because she thought they were cute. Oh, and jewelry, lots and lots of jewelry. Me, I dunno, I probably spend it on something much more impractical and stupid like maybe, I dunno, a tank collection? Well that, plus the usual luxuries like a fancy house, cars and such. Jerry, I'm guessing you'd buy season tickets to every single sports game for the next fifty years. I also figure you'll build your own football stadium with one of those fancy retractable domes. Say, can I put my tanks in it when your not using it?” Tom laughed. He was sad there could only be one winner. He was glad that there was no bad blood between them right now and he hoped that once the winner was announced that they wouldn't hold any grudges over who won.
        “Unfortunately there can only be one winner Tom, you know that.” Samantha said.
        “I know,” Tom sighed, “I was just joking about the tank in the stadium part. Let's try not to have any grudges no matter who wins okay?” Tom pleaded.
         “Sure, and you're probably right, whoever wins will blow the money we're only human after all, though I hope they keep their job.” Samantha responded.
          “I have an idea,” said Jerry, “how about we do a sort of 'investment vow' whoever wins doesn't spend any of it, immediately investing it and then taking the interest then investing that until they have enough money to give the rest of us the original prize money but the others do the same thing then we live off the interest or further invest it become those invest it rich people never ever blowing it. There won't be any bad blood between us and we all end up rich. It'll take a long time though.” Jerry had a very serious tone of voice.
          “Do you realize how ridiculous you sound? Do you honestly believe what what you just said? We've been together on this show for months. I know you guys. All three of us are not that smart, or savvy. I'm surprised we're the finalists really. None of us could do your 'investment vow'.” Tom stared at Jerry shocked that he could come up with such a wild idea.
        “I agree.” Samantha looked at Jerry blankly as her brain couldn't come up with much of a facial expression to respond to him with.
         “I disagree. Isn't the reason we're all here because we never broke the the alliance we had while the other contestants went crazy with backstabbing and doing elaborate voting schemes? We beat that alliance of seven because we beat them in that battle simulation where we didn't argue who took control of the ship. By the way excellent job with the blasters back there Samantha.” Jerry looked at them with a smile on his face. “The only reason we're against each other now is because there's no one else to go against.” Tom laughed. But not his usual annoying or endearing laugh, but a much deeper laugh, something joyful and playful but not silly.
       “Guess your right, alright, I'll take your 'investment vow' but I'm warning you, I'm only human.” Tom smiled.
         “Me too, I'm in.” When Samantha thought about it, she remembered that Jerry was right.
         “And I'm in.” Jerry said with a look of satisfaction on his face.
          “Welcome back to our LIVE broadcast!” the host yelled, now back in his purple sparkling suit. “And now for the moment you've been waiting for. The announcement of the winner. We've tallied the votes from you, the viewers at home. Who you decided has the potential to be a Space Captain. Is it Tom, Samantha, Jerry? But before I announce the winner I have to ask, what will you spend the money on?” Every season on So You Think You Can Be A Space Captain? the host asks the contestants what they would spend the money on. And this season the host was too busy fanning his sweating face to pay attention to the conversation the contestants had during the commercial break. “Samantha, how about you? What would spend the money on?”
           “I would invest the money and spread the wealth with the remaining contestants.” Samantha replied plainly.
           “W-what?” the host had never gotten an answer like that most contestants gave joke answers or said charity. “Jerry, does this sudden charity to you shock you?”
            “Not at all, I would do the same.”
              “A-and you Tom?” the host turned to the last contestant.
              “Me too. Since we've been in an alliance from the beginning we reached an agreement ahead of time. Over this show we've become friends.” Tom smiled as he remembered the events of the show.
              “You mean that it doesn't matter who wins?” the host said while his face grew red. “By space you mean I wore this stupid, dorky purple beast of a suit for nothing!?” he yelled. He ripped the suit off and threw it on the floor. “I sweat buckets in this thing and you tell me it doesn't matter? They don't pay me enough for this! I'm going home, LIVE!” he started to march offstage. He then turned back and pulled an envelop from the suit and tore it open, pulling out a sheet of paper. “Oh, and according to this sheet of paper, the viewers have voted Tom the winner, though it doesn't matter now does it?” the host tossed the paper on the ground and finished his march offstage.
          On the tenth anniversary of them winning the show they took a picture of themselves standing in front of Tom's tank collection inside of Jerry's football stadium. Samantha was wearing her favorite heels and her most beautiful and expensive jewelry. But also standing next to them was the host in the same purple suit smiling very wide. The incident had also been very profitable for him. After the incident he had made a massive career of being the “short-tempered TV host that has to wear bad suits” as his “character”. So You Think You Can Be A Space Captain? lasted many more seasons, but was eventually beaten out by rival reality show, Real Alien Housewives of Mars.   

Friday, April 17, 2015

Today's #flashfiction It Was A Bright And Stormy Day

“These are not the droids you're looking for.”
Steve Jobs* #quote

Today Jessica will be coming over. Also she may or may not be helping me with peace talks with the Moon People. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

It Was A Bright And Stormy Day

        It was a bright and stormy day. The Sun shone brighter than it ever seemed to have before. Roasting even. Clouds drifted through the sky that should have blocked the Sun but instead of being normal white clouds, they lacked normal coloring and just distorted the sky with a strange transparency that magnified sunlight. Lightning came from this storm and as it traveled across the nation people couldn't quite understand what phenomenon comprised it. After it left several states in a massive swelter heat and nearly roasted several forests scientists managed to get enough data from various devices to get some idea of what made the clouds.
        Glass mixed with some other strange compounds created the clouds so that it would be lighter than air and have the other properties of a cloud. Immediately people theorized what created such a thing. Conspiracies arose instantly. The government, who was blamed in some of the theories, treated it as an attack from someone. More and more of the glass clouds started appearing and roasting the world and their presence interfered with normal weather patterns. The United States started as the first location of the clouds but they began popping up throughout the Americas then seemingly randomly throughout the world.
        Once the confusion passed people went from panic to distress and depression. Natural disasters pop up on the news somewhere and go away. The glass clouds damage places and you always knew that one would drift over you. The governments worked on trying to do something about it, but they all argued on which solution was the best. Usually whichever solution they argued for benefited them the most politically.
          After months of his own research into purchases of various chemicals and glass, an old detective and his chemist son found a paper trail leading to someone who purchased the necessary materials for the glass clouds in obscure ways. With the panic and devastation caused by the glass clouds there was enough to get a warrant on his house.
           The old detective found a broken man who hated the world for a long list of sins against him over a life even longer than the detective.
           “Officer Sterling, I'm not going to help you stop the clouds.”

            Sterling had many years experience with criminals. He knew this man wouldn't be kind enough to just give him a solution to the problem. and replied, “Well, you look pale, you haven't been outside much have you? We police can't let you get ill by confining you. I heard it's a bright and stormy day. I'll keep you outside with the lovely weather and maybe you'll change your mind.”

Thursday, April 16, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Boxed In Bot

“I'm rubber and you're glue. Whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you!”
The Michelin Man* #quote

Tomorrow Jessica should be coming over, she might bring one of her Japanese games for us to play and that could be fun. She's a Japanese major in college so she has Japanese versions of video game consoles and Japanese video games. It'll be neat to see some Japanese games sometime, maybe even some that were only made in Japanese, and if not this time maybe some other time she comes in the future. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Boxed In Bot

          Repairs. I'd love some repairs. If my line of work involved cleaning floors or fixing cars I'd get repairs when one of my arms flew off. But no. The whole purpose of my job focused on body parts flying off me or my coworkers. Or simply going limp. At least the arm that flew off was one of six.
        At first the idea couldn't come to fruition from the cost. Before only little robots fought. Now robots like me, ones with strong artificial intelligences fought. When something becomes cheap enough it happens. I heard computers used to fill whole rooms. I wished I filled a whole room so I didn't have to fight. I wished that it went back to the old days where only humans fought in rings. Now human boxers, martial arts and whatever kinds of other fighters work with programmers coaching me. Usually retired ones after they'd had their time in the ring. They are the closest things I have to friends as I fight and they view me as a means to profit. When I'm bought and sold between them some of them view me as a pet.
      I only get repaired between matches. But if I break too much my story becomes over. Tradition in the ring was that if a robot became too damage they were destroyed permanently. To the humans it added tension.
       My arms and their drills slam into my opponents body armor digging deeper with each strike. I don't know how, but for some reason I get a feeling of fear from him. Even though he doesn't have a face to express it. Perhaps it came from the stance he took with his legs. Or something else. I just know that we shared the life in the ring. He followed all the same rules. I had to take him out, he needed to break me, I needed to break him. But if I broke him he would suffer the fate I feared.

       After a few rounds of fighting I destroyed another robot and defended my world champion title.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Magic, Songs And Teamwork

"With enough ketchup you can eat anything."
Galactus* #quote

Today I rocked so hard that even diamonds were impressed. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Magic, Songs And Teamwork

           In the lands of Zeeyu magic was controlled by song. Though even more accurately it was controlled by the relationships of three kinds of people. The composers, singers, and the synchronizists. All together these people made magic possible.
           The composers would make the spells. They would research and create the magic words for the songs. They were famous for spending days in old library looking up old spells and figuring out the words in them. They would learn how to read dead languages just to learn some of the songs in the books and decode the magic words hidden within. (You couldn't just say a magic word for it to work. A careful eye and knowledge of the magical arts was needed to spot one, or just dumb trial and error in the field after you found some new words in an old book could work.)
Singers would sing the words the composer would research. A composer could be the singer as well.               Someone could perform all the roles in the “magical band” feasibly but they wouldn't have the time to hone their skills in singing and be able to research all the words at the same time so people specialized. The singer did not learn the words, but the syllables. They learned how to make them be said to whatever rhythm was needed for whatever spell so no matter whatever the composer threw at them they could say it even if they didn't know what it meant. The best singers could sing magic from a language they only learned about a week ago.
             Synchronizists were masters of rhythm and synchronizing. In order for a spell to select a target it used whatever rhythm the synchronizist was playing. Targeting a human and targeting a dragon required different rhythms, this factors in distance too. The singer must pronounce the words of the spell correctly as well making it go well with the rhythm of the synchronizist otherwise the spell will be unstable. A good composer will pick magic words that will make this as easy as possible for them. This is possible because many language have magical synonyms. Two different languages can have magical words for the same kind of magic so the composer has multiple choices for the same thing so the composer should pick the easiest option.
             The best composers are the ones that can do all that when “improvising” a spell, making one off the top of their head. Synchronizists can get in this kind of situation too. They can use various instruments to establish rhythms like drums. Many have favorites. Many pick whatever is easiest for the spell and for the singers and composers to adapt to. One famous incident had a skilled synchronizist stuck without an instrument. Many would clap at that point, but since he thought that wouldn't match the spell they needed, he decided to click-clack and smack two small rocks that he found nearby together over and over to the rhythm he needed.
            In this land magic was music honed in the perfect relationship of people.
            “Waffles!?” the singer screamed with a deep voice unfitting to his teenage age, “We turned the tree into waffles?”
             “I researched the words for hours!” yelled the composer her face turning red as a forest fire,                “How could you screw them up? I picked the simplest ones!” The composer then glared at the synchronizist. “And what we weren't even aiming for the tree. We were aiming for the lead we set in the field! Thank goodness we were practicing in a field for safety! We could have hurt someone! Can't believe you missed a hunk of lead!”
             The synchronizist yelled back, “I wouldn't have had any problem with the rhythm if you two hadn't botched the song! Turning lead into gold is the final exam project. If we screw this up my grades will plummet for sure.” Her grades were so high that it would actually only turn her grade to a B in that class but it was still horror to her. Out of horror for the possibility of the outcome she was about to cry under her thick sunglasses. The way synchronizist was raised was that she was calm and collected about everything but her grades.
            “Each mistake can be a reward in of itself.” said a voice from behind.
              The composer then said, “Another 'wise saying' it must be Mr. Smith.”
              Mr. Smith then smiled, “Yes, it is I Mr. Smith, inter-dimensional traveler teacher from Earth!”
               The singer then groaned, “I'm sorry but nobody cares that your from that dumb, magicless world. Even if you've told everyone, staff and students included, a thousand times.”
               The synchronizist then asked, “So you said, 'Each mistake can be a reward in of itself' so what can we learn from this one?”
                 Mr. Smith then laughed. “No,no, no. I didn't say you could learn from every mistake. What I said is that every mistake can be 'rewarding'. Look!” The teacher said while pointing at their mistake. “You got free waffles!” He smiled. “Instead of arguing about the fact you messed up you should enjoy your waffles then start from scratch. No use arguing right?”
                  “Actually I think we did learn something...” said the composer.
                  “Oh? What's that?” asked Mr. Smith.
                  The composer smiled. “We learned the world's first waffle spell!”
                  The singer then said, “If we can replicate it we could keep turning even more trees into waffles, it would be hilarious! And isn't there an alternate assignment for the final exam where you invent a spell?”
                  The synchronizist then awoke the inner businesswoman in herself. “If I can make it target any plant we want we can get rid of weeds and other unwanted plants in people's yards by turning them into waffles that we could just scoop up instead of having to uproot entire trees! Or better yet we could also make...waffle farms.”

                Mr. Smith sighed. There were some times he missed the mundane world of Earth.  

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Fantastical Property Values

“WD-40, the can that can.”
King Arthur* #quote

It's been arranged that Jessica will be coming over this Friday. I don't think we'll be frying anything on Friday.

Fantastical Property Values

        King Galayon wanted to buy a vacation castle far away from his normal home. A place to go to where the scenery can change, and where he can still run his kingdom, but it'd be out of the way enough that it'd be difficult for the other kings and queens to get the time to travel that distance and visit. He found a castle in a beautiful, scenic area that was also strategically surrounded by mountains. A natural defense that looked good as well. A clean river flowed in front of the location.
         “What a quaint, little castle your selling Mr. Falei.” The King smiled while talking to the wizard who put up the place for sale. King Galayon dealt extensively with wizards in his life, many served as consultants for him and parts of his royal guard. Twelve traveled with him alongside twenty knights.             This wizard did confuse him though. Most wizards loved showmanship. They devoted their entire life to their craft so they wore robes that represented their school of magic and all sorts of charms, emblems, rings, jewelry. Anyone with a passing knowledge of wizards could identify a wizard's discipline by looking at them. Except for this man. He wore practical farmer clothes, held a pitchfork, and only thing that identified him as a wizard was the golden necklace around his neck with a magical jewel of extreme rarity. Galayon knew this man was a powerful wizard from the item he wore, but he couldn't tell what kind, since the artifact didn't belong to any specific school of magic.
           “Oh, but the farmland is great if you want your workers to make you food without having to order in supplies, and the castle is very roomy on the inside.” Falei pointed to the fields next to the castle. He'd been cultivating them for a long time and hoped to use them as a primary bragging point.
            King Galayon's found the fact that such a wizard leaving a castle would be odd. The second thing that confused him was that the price for the castle fell into the smoking-amazing-bargain range despite its location and all its properties. He only called it quaint to insult it and begin negotiations.                 “Mr. Falei do I need to remind you that you need to tell me everything that could affect the value of this property?”
              The wizard frowned. He snapped his fingers and a ring of fire appeared around the castle like a moat. “Well, magic traps laid by the original owner I took it from are everywhere. I have to regularly cast a spell to check for their reactivation periods.”
              The wizards among the King's guard felt instantly ashamed that they could not detect the traps. The King remained calm and asked, “Anything else?”
             Falei gave up on concealing information. Everyone checked the castle before they bought it anyway so he may as well tell them upfront. “It's haunted. There's a dragon living there with a princess he originally took hostage but now befriended so you'll have to make living arrangements with them. A fracture from another dimension intersects the castle so the geometry and hallways of the buildings rearrange every day based on the position of the stars. Also in the mountains there are noisy goblin neighbors who play loud music.”

            The King stared at the wizard, then the castle, then back to the wizard, moving his eyes between the two. He then said, “Explains why the place is dirt cheap, I'll take it.”

Monday, April 13, 2015

Today's #flashfiction The Guardian Angel's Jigsaw

“To escape, I must follow the golden thread!”
Pac-Man* #quote

Today I found out that the Freemason’s moody neighbors are the masterminds behind the penguin conspiracy. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Guardian Angel's Jigsaw

           Sarah the Guardian Angel looked over the pieces again. Today had been a very rough day for Ray, one of the people she watched over. So the puzzle proved to be difficult. A Guardian Angel's job held many duties, and often they do it for many individuals, taking on more and more people as they become more skillful. They protected them from the supernatural of the world, inject their minds with inspiration and will at pivotal moments, and as one massive duty, put the pieces of the soul together between each day.
            The body and brain go hand in hand. Over time the brain rearranges its neurons to compensate for new memories obtained along with other input, molding sections as skills are learned and developed. Souls bound themselves to the body through the brain, yet they do not have the ability to rearrange themselves.
            Sarah, and every Guardian Angel like her, must fulfill the duty of taking the pieces of the soul and moving them around to match the physical mind. They usually do it nightly, because if anyone left a soul too long then the puzzle could become a nightmare to solve. When only a few things have changed then a few flicks of the magical wrist can pull the various parts of the soul into alignment.
           Sarah did not have an easy case. Though she didn't let a long time pass since she last fixed up Ray, the poor man went through a massive string of emotional events. A great booming high of happiness with a promotion at work then coming home to find his wife have an affair in his own bed. The wife left the house in shame hiding it in a fake anger pretending he was at fault while he sunk into his bed.
            Sarah, at this moment, could only help the man by using her magic to inject some strong will into him and pick up the pieces of his soul and align them to reality. The soul gave the brain purpose, like the watcher of a monitor on a computer. Without a soul the brain would operate and executing its program, but no internal being would observe the images on the monitor and they fade into meaninglessness. A brain would never know if it didn't have a soul, but the universe would.
           In the Angelic Plane Sarah worked on Ray's soul from her Guardian Observatory. Each element and fragment of Ray's soul floated in the massive room as a sparkle, as if someone tore down the night sky and shot it in the room as confetti. Each element resided on a piece of glass like substance, with edges carved in like a jigsaw puzzle piece. These pieces weren't always flat, and could bend and turn.She spent her time working hard on putting them together. She needed to fix the soul back together. Golden text twinkled from time to time describing each piece. She used these hints of what each piece was to place its relation properly.
          “Afternoon's Anguish” one flashed in gold text. She read the text further and realized the piece reflected the anguish that Ray felt discovering the affair. Sarah knew that if she threw away this piece and never connected it back that the true being behind the brain would not feel the pain. So really the pain would not exist. The brain functioned as a computer, the soul as the true feeling being. Snap the piece. Easy and done.

        Sarah placed the piece in its proper place. She'd been in this business of guarding people for two hundred years. She knew that every part of a person completes them and that no piece should be thrown away.

Sunday, April 12, 2015

Today's #flashfiction Experiencing Love

“Slow and steady wins the race.”
Speedy Gonzales* #quote

I'll be totes hangin' with my 2 bffs today brahs. Anyway onto the flash fiction!

Experiencing Love

         A woman who lost all hope for love in her life sat in a park bench with a depressed look in her eyes. As she sat in the bench contemplating her lack of smarts, unlikeable personality and ugly looks a man approached her. The man wore pure white from head to toe. He told her that he knew of her plight and wanted to help. He told her that he could help her feel love. She didn't even think for a moment about why this strange man from nowhere knew about her. She didn't care. She asked how he could do such a thing. He told it her it was simple. The man then handed her a golden bracelet and instructed her to put it on. He explained to her that all she had to do was hold it near someone experiencing love then she would gain that love. He then told her that if she were to ever take off the bracelet that she would lose that love forever and it would go back to where it came. The man vanished when the woman blinked leaving the bracelet behind.
        She put it on eagerly and looked around in park. She saw a couple holding hands on a nearby bench. She passed by the bench with the bracelet. The couple then pulled apart and the woman felt a surge go through her from the bracelet. She felt like she was someone dying of thirst drinking water when she felt the love. But it was only a drop. Though when she looked at the couple she noticed them pulling away from each other then looking at each other with cold looks. She realized that she had taken it. But she didn't care. She went around the park finding more couples and taking their love. She felt so alive. These moments became dreams while the rest of her loveless life started to appear like a lonely nightmare.
        She then passed by a brother and sister and the bracelet and it took their love too. This made her realize that it would take any kind of love, not just the love of couples. She passed by friends too. She toured the park taking the love from every person she could find.
She ended up at an old married couple sitting together holding their wrinkled hands. When she stole their love it was the most intense of all. But not in the passionate rush that young love was. This love had been refined over decades.

        This love overwhelmed the woman and made her think of all the other love in her body which still welled up inside her. When she looked around the park she saw the depressed look she had only moments ago before she wore bracelet on all the faces of the people she stole the love from. She didn't want all of them to become her. But the love made her feel so great. She gathered all all her strength and pulled off the bracelet. The bracelet vanished and all the love returned to its original owners. She lost it all, every little bit was pulled from her heart with a powerful force, though she kept the strength she gained from being able to pull off that bracelet. Using this strength she sought out her own love and put it in her heart without any help.

Saturday, April 11, 2015

Today's #flashfiction April Trues

Schoolhouse Rock* #quote

Today CJ will be coming over, and Jessica tommorrow, and since CJ is staying the weekend on Sunday we'll all be together to hatch an evil scheme, though we probably won't. I say probably won't to maintain plausible deniability.

April Trues

         Parallel universes have various quirks here and there. One thirty-six and a half degrees divided by zero on the quantum reality scale from ours has a particular quirk in April. Ten days after April Fools they have April Trues. This tradition often terrifies people, however anyone whoever speaks against it was looked at as an extremely dishonest person. In this reality April Trues came long before April Fools and went under many names over many cultures and created April Fools as a sort of contrasting day before. And the reason April Fools contrasted April Trues was that on April Trues everyone must tell the truth. This was also why it terrified everyone.
        A near-ancient tradition that permeated through various cultures April Trues became so ingrained that people followed it religiously. People hid, and the biggest way to get out of it was to refuse to speak. The most high profile trials were held on April Trues and so were many treaty signings. On our Earth treaties were signed with various dates. In this reality most were dated April 11th, the day of April Trues.
        Congressman Hughes was one of the many politicians who liked to take advantage of April Trues. By using carefully worded speeches he could manage to give statements without breaking the rule of not lying. Even a politician found difficulty lying on April Trues, it'd be like breaking a most Sacred Commandment. Some did, but the worst part was that when someone lied on April Trues, you could always see it in their face. Very few ever mastered the “April Bluff”, including professional liars.
        He gave his speech smiling that'd he'd used the day to look even more honest with his carefully crafted words. Never technically lying he managed to paint his opposition in the worst light. He managed to enter his car quickly enough to avoid anyone asking any compromising questions. Hughes smiled as started driving his car home. He didn't even trust to have a driver in the vehicle.
          His wife sat next to him in the passenger seat turned to him and asked, “Are you having an affair?” He almost froze, but at least driving instincts prevented them from crashing. People didn't ask those kinds of questions on April Trues. After all, if you asked your husband or wife that it showed a complete lack of trust that you thought you even needed April Trues to get the answer out of them.

      “Yes,” Hughes replied. However his wife was right. And the only reason the politician brought her along in the car during the dangerous day of April Trues was that he thought he had her fooled. When the politician and his wife filed for divorce in March the media naturally put two and two together and magazines speculated on what kind of truth was revealed on April Trues.

Friday, April 10, 2015

Today's #flashfiction The Uortz

“The number you have dialed is no longer in service.”
Ghostbusters* #quote

Tonight Grandma will be coming over and bringing some of her delicious food. (As Grandma's around the world are famous for). Anyway onto the flash fiction!

The Uortz

         The many species across the galaxies tried to reason or plead with the conquering race Uortz. But the Uortz didn't bother learning another species language until they were enslaved and their civilization in shambles. Empathy never had a chance to build.
         Humanity almost shared the same fate. However an Uortz scout walking in his invisible suit ran across something the other races didn't have that managed to reach him without language. At least the words in language. On the television in some mall a singing reality feature showed one of their best contestants. Her voice engaged the Uortz scout's alien ears and the mind behind them. He recorded the song with his scouting equipment and went back to headquarters. He wanted to know the language behind the song. The scout also wanted to show his fellow beings the sounds of this planet's race.

        The conquering race soon learning off music and all forms of song and eventually other facets of culture. They waged no war, and the idea went further and further away from their mind as they learned more. When he listened to various human concerts while human paintings hung on his walls he felt very glad that his species bothered to stop and learn about another kind.