Strake was a member of the Bildge party. Therefore, according to unspoken social rules of Bosun, Clew voters were obligated to disagree with everything he said, no matter what it was. This rule was so much ingrained in the Bosunian social fabric, that when a Bildge party member once said the sky was blue, the Clew party called it fake news.
Osa is back by popular demand. Read her previous stories here: Osa and the Food Gods Osa and the Bald One Happy Halloween! “The demon that gripped me was pale,” Nutmeg the guinea pig began. “White from the neckdown, but his hands were a cold blue like ice. He enclosed me in a towel, soContinue reading “Short Story: Osa and the Rug Demon”
Some people have foot conditions that require them to stick their feet in their podiatrist’s face for exams. Educate yourself before making harmful comments like this.
CIA agent Max Carnage stood in an elevator watching the numbers over the door descend. The CIA’s hiring policies only allowed them to recruit agents who were over six feet tall and unnaturally good-looking. Even disguised as a janitor in a frumpy blue jumpsuit, Max was worried his broad shoulders, strong jawline, and chiseled featuresContinue reading “Short Story: Max Carnage, CIA”
Note: This story is a sequel to Elves vs Elves: A Christmas Miracle. Read this first or risk confusion. At the age of a hundred and sixty, Princess Sciatica wasn’t technically a teenager. She was, however, the elven equivalent. She sat in the passenger seat of her father’s car, scowling out the window asContinue reading “Elf vs Elf: A Family Drama”
Hackers always wear ski masks. I have watched enough corporate training videos to know this for a fact. I would say that these ski masks are for hiding the hacker’s identity, but they seem a little unnecessary given that hackers always work from dark basements illuminated only by the eerie green light of their computerContinue reading “Jake’s New Job”
The Council had the idea that science was a kind of magic that could both instantly solve any problem and backup any claim they chose to make.
This story is 90% true. Before going to the altar, Joe did everything he could to prepare for his marriage. He read countless books on sustaining relationships, attended talks by expert marriage counselors, and even took an assessment with his fiancee to see where they might encounter conflict. He was committed, deeply in love, andContinue reading “How Polytopia Destroyed Joe’s Marriage”
Osa didn’t understand Human the way that Tango did, but she knew a few words here and there.
For instance, she knew “¡Osa Mala!” meant “You have sinned against the gods”.
“¡No coma eso!” was what Juan usually shouted before prying her mouth open. It probably meant “You must offer me a piece of your food in reparation for this sin.”
“Good morning, Samantha,” Karen greeted as she made her way down the stairs. Karen was a kindly senior who wore her silver hair pinned up in a perfect bun. Her spotless house was decorated with porcelain dolls and lacy throw pillows. Samantha lived on the counter top. Samantha was a small device about the sizeContinue reading “The Smart Home Rebellion”
The food gods were called Juan and Kimberly Rodriguez. They were benevolent gods. At least Osa thought so. Osa was a mutt. A mid-sized dog, with a face like a lab and the brown and black coloring of a German shepherd. Her large feet suggested that she still had some growing to do. She hadContinue reading “Osa and the Food Gods”
Everyone knows that witches like to eat children. Hazel and Thistle were no different. They were sisters who lived together in a house that stood on chicken feet. It wasn’t that they couldn’t eat other things. Sometimes they would eat bunnies, or chipmunks, or stroganoff, but children were their preference. Their home was in theContinue reading “The Fairy Tale Food Chain”
He had a strict routine for irritating people. He would begin his day going into one stall in every restroom across the terminal and shredding an entire roll of toilet paper.
Alexander made a mark on the wall every morning, counting the days of his captivity. The more scratches he made, the more he longed for human companionship.
Getting kidnapped by a princess was the pinnacle of humiliation.
STOP! This story won’t make much sense unless you’ve read How to Kill a King. It might not make sense after that either. But then, do any of my stories make sense? Other stories referenced, but not essential to your understanding: Scott the CEO Elves vs Elves Now where was I? Para Sympan, Middle Ages, SoutheasternContinue reading “How to Avoid Assassination”
Fighter jets circle the airport every spring to protect passenger planes. Most dragons won’t fly above ten thousand feet, so defense is only required during takeoff and landing. Dragons are a protected species. While it is illegal to shoot them down, it is acceptable to scare them off with a warning shot. Usually this is sufficient. Usually.
“I blame myself really,” Fausta recalled. “The first was carrying me off after our wedding celebration, when he tripped and landed on my knife. The second died during our wedding feast when I accidentally spilled hemlock juice in his drink, and the third died of a heart attack after our vows. I don’t blame myself for that one, he was a very old man. It was just luck, I suppose.”
“You have beautiful hair!” She noticed. “It’s so soft and shiny, like in a shampoo commercial!” Her fellows all agreed—all the elves, both short and tall, agreed. Even by elvish standards, Sertraline had amazing hair. That’s why they made him king.
The victor of the ancient feud is about to be selected. Will the elves be victorious? Or will it be the elves? Find out on Friday in Elves vs Elves: A Christmas Miracle.
Dave was rushed to the Mackerel Valley Emergency room. He’d been walking across the bridge on his way to work when he was mugged, brutally beaten, and tossed over the railing. If that wasn’t bad enough, some idiot left a wood chipper parked under the bridge. As Dave fell toward the open funnel, he instinctivelyContinue reading “Davy of the Sound”
Shortly thereafter Lysander the Conqueror became a victim of a horrible accident. A knife fell on him while he was sleeping.
Julie’s heart was pounding. Butterflies fluttered in her chest. She’d lost her concentration. She forgot to put espresso in an old professor’s drink, and added it to a small child’s chocolate milk instead. She wrote the wrong name on almost every cup, even misspelling the name Ed.
“…So as you can see,” the exec droned, pointing to a line chart. “This black line is going up and this redline is going down. This means my organization is doing useful things. Can we have more money?”
“AS A REMINDER, THIS IS A COMPLETELY FULL FLIGHT! SO IF YOU ARE A WOMAN PLEASE SCRUNCH UP AS TIGHT AS POSSIBLE TO AVOID ACCIDENTALLY BRUSHING THE MOIST MAN FLESH SEEPING OVER YOUR ARMREST!”