Typical New Year Guff

Every year, at this time, I tend to do one of these about the new year. Something about looking back at a year, most of them bad so far, and then looking forward to a new year, and some guff about how maybe it'll be good, or more likely about how the coming year will probably be worse, trying to be either right or pleasantly surprised.

And I suppose this is technically more of the same, just without the basic creativity of doing it as a short story.

But I'm just tired. Of this year and just plain sleepy too.

Optic War

He was the hero of the people, the man who was going to single-handedly win us the war, the Captain of our Dreams. His exploits had only needed a slight reworking to become legendary.

He did clear out the entire embankment alone, we just didn't mention the gas bomb dropped moments earlier. Stuff like that.

But then he gets killed by a random squad of grunts on a routine patrol. So we had to finesse that, pump up the numbers.

Unfortunately that just gave the other side more spots to fill up in their Superstar Squad for their own PR.

One Bar Connection

When my old phone came to life and began showing social media that didn't quite line up with reality, I was confused by the error.

Then when it got further apart from what was going on, culminating in a couple of important elections going the other way, I was happy for the escape.

When I saw how that world seemed so much better, I was depressed for obvious reason.

Once every post was about aliens making contact, I was disappointed by missing out.

Then all the posts stopped.

I hope it's just because I've lost connection. But the last posts...

The Hunger

The Hunger could not be sated.

It had existed since time began, an unending need to feast, a being of pure darkness even as the universe around it lit up.

Not that that mattered to The Hunger. The universe and all that dwelled within it were like microscopic specks of detritus, compared to the terrible beauty of The Hunger.

And now, the time was nigh, The Hunger no longer would wait, it would seek out-

"Snookums! Where's my big fluffy ball of cuteness? I've got your din-dins ready!"

The Hunger stretched and padded over to the food bowl to feast.

Catch A Virus

The ground shook with every step the machine took, houses and roads squashed and cracked underneath the alien monstrosity.

Every weapon Humanity had tried had failed, from EMPs to straight out nuking it, large chunks of what was Europe would be uninhabitable for decades. But the machine just kept walking, picking seemingly random items up in its giant claws, staring at it, then crushing them.

No one knows who finally managed to hack in, but the world was saved by that unknown person who linked the machine to wifi.

It was halfway through Humanity's porn when they brought it down.

Post Night Stand

I rolled over, and slowly opened my eyes to find her standing in the middle of the room, quickly throwing on clothing. As she began to spin around, putting on her bra, she noticed I was awake. She gave me a rather strained smile.

"Oh hi, um, look, I'll be honest, I have no recollection of last night and I have no idea who you are, so, yeah, I'm just gonna go."

She threw on a shirt and headed out the door. I gave her a moment, then got up and began to find out where the hell I was.

Crimes Against Nature

Any momentary disorientation when the door was opened was dispelled by the hands pulling me to my feet, and the drumbeats that indicated someone was about to  be executed.

I was honestly surprised it took them this long. I marched along, as my crimes of being 'foreign' and 'unnatural' were read out. I stood against the wall, shaking my head to the offer of a blindfold which was nice, and the offer of a cigarette, which was odd.

Then they shot at me.

I thought they hated me before, but when they found out I was impervious to bullets, man.

Eve's Night

10:57.

I roll over, lay on my side for what feels like hours, then roll back to face the clock.

11:01.

I get up, go get a glass of water, drink it, then go lie back down.

11:09.

I try to count sheep again, get bored at a couple hundred.

11:17.

Get up, go pee, lie back down.

11:21.

Sigh, try to masturbate, fail to get anywhere.

11:43.

Punch pillow and lie down.

11:44.

Stare at clock.

12:01.

I made it.

A full year without her. Without my Eve.

12:02.

Sleep.

The Price We've Paid

Cast the spell, pay the price.

You think crushed diamonds were just for show? To use magic, you gotta give up something. Precious metals and rare items are so often used because without them, the usual price for magic is a part of your soul.

Or rather a soul you have ownership over. Hence the market for demonic traders, and for slaves. It can be someone else's soul, if you own it.

Now, if one were to work out how to fool that process and use anyone's soul...

You noticed how little empathy there is to go around these days?

The REActivate Purloined Engineered Resources Project

Dean shook his writing hand as he stood up. "That has to be it, right?"

The Supervisor looked up from her clipboard.

"You're volunteering to be hardwired into this Neural Alien Total Harness, a device we still don't understand. This procedure has been performed five times now, and resulted in five deaths. There's a lot of paperwork to ensure there's no blowback about number six."

"Whatever."

The procedure only took a few seconds, then the NATH took over, and Dean felt the voice in his head. "Ahhh, now you have potential. Merge with me."

After a moment, DeATH stood up.

Felt Like Hours

Attendance was taken.

1. Secretary Warner confirmed the previous minutes were accurate.

2. The improvement program was reviewed, and the board unanimously agreed it was proceeding acceptably. Brief discussion about possible extended remumeration for the executives in charge was tabled for a later date.

3. After another brief diversion, discussion about upcoming vacancies caused by unforeseen illnesses in the senior staffing levels was undertaken, with the board practically unanimously welcoming the new staff coming into the structure from outside.

4. The improvement program director wished to note their disagreement.

Attendance records to be amended due to removal of former director.

Eccentric Professionals

These pick and mix jobs could be lots of fun, as long as the clients hired the eccentric professionals. As I met the break and enter specialist on top of the target museum, I tested the waters.

"Man, cold huh? I bet you could cut glass with my nipples!"

I got a blank stare back from her, and I sighed. Then she turned to the skylight and yanked down her shirt.

"Uh... That's just a-"

She rose back up and showed me the diamond stud on her nipple piercing, then got back to work.

So that was a promising start.

The Careful Bureaucrat

The bureaucrat had spent over a decade hearing every single sob story. Every day was another tale of woe and distress. Every day was the same questions, the same dedication to focus on the actually relevant issues at hand, namely the correct forms.

In all that time, there was only one story that really got to him. One person that his heart really went out to. A young woman, within a year of getting married, lost her parents, her husband, her home, her unborn child.

He helped her. And then her case was the one audited.

He's more careful now.

Unfortunate Reaction

Solstar found Glory sitting on the roof of the Custodian HQ, a piece of paper in her hands.

As he sat, she silently held the paper out to him. He took it and quickly read the hurried handwritten letter.

"This..."

"A fan letter. From a young techie who just developed a new kinetic energy feedback device. She wants to be a superhero just like me.

Maybe if I'd answered this, then Lowbridge would still be standing."

"Her reaction to your action isn't your fault."

"Except I would have maybe understood what she was before I attacked."

His silence spoke volumes.

Stationary Orbit

So after the sixth satellite went offline, a drone was sent up.  It found the cannibalized satellites, with a dead cyborg inside them, along with lots of strange technology.

They brought it down, and after some reverse engineering, our tech level jumped forward a century.

So much so that a few years later we made the first attempt at time travel. They were very careful not to use a cyborg test pilot.

The only message we got back from him was a few weeks after his arrival, which mentioned he'd had to replace body parts.

Temporal engineers are still arguing.

The Great Realignment

As a Third Bishop of Laka these past ten years, I'd gotten good at the Daily Sacrifices. My cuts were clean, my smoke thick, my chanting quite beautiful, if I said so myself.

But then came the Great Realignment. Laka, while remaining infallible, had to appeal to a modern congregation. The Daily Sacrifices were no longer necessary.

I was an almost forgotten outland missionary. And this locals didn't follow Laka, but liked the smells and sounds, so I kept doing them.

Thus, I was saved from Laka's Curse.

Unless it really was a disease that spread quickly through populated areas.

Her Big Heart

She always had a big heart. Every day she would spend some time working for a charity, being a supportive voice for people in need, or sometimes even just giving me attention and support that I probably didn't deserve. She's the reason I took the plunge and made my artistic statements. She supported me every step, even when certain people online started coming after me. Then one of them tracked me down and opened fire on us. Maybe she could have survived taking the bullet for me, it was shallow into her chest cavity, but she had a big heart.

Losing The Plot

On some level I did appreciate the effort to disguise the bad news behind lots of long words. But for the most part I was just angry with this banker in his ill-fitting suit and cracked glasses taking away my family's farm.

As he stood there, holding out a pen and waiting for me to sign my life away, my hand slowly clenched into a fist. He noticed.

"You... You wouldn't hit a man with glasses, would you?"

"You ain't no man."

I swung.

So not only did I lose the farm, the cracked lens took my finger off too.

The Question Of Our Meeting

The very first thing she ever said to me was 'Fuck?'.

Now, if that had an offer, I probably would have come up with a less awkward story to retell of our meeting.

Had I swore in the preceding few moments, it could be acceptable as the start of her making me a better person or something.

It'd be sweet, with a bit of an edge, if she hadn't known English at the time.

Plenty of possible options for contexts that would be interesting. It being her offering input as to a possible answer for a trivia question, that's boring.

Next Level

About twenty different unreplicable things occurred at once, and I found myself no longer strapped into the test craft but instead sprawled out across what I assumed was a floor. I looked up, and saw a three dimensional shadow of a six dimensional being. This somewhat distracted me, and I don't know how much time passed, assuming that was a concept that was still relevant, before I heard the being speak, and then the apparently actually replicable things reoccur and I came back, that one sentence somehow recognizable in my mind.

"I put in the wrong cheat code, I guess..."

My Master's Words

It was the first sword I made, and it was barely a weapon. My master told me to keep it, so in later years I could see how far I had come.

But after my master died, I sold it to a random drunk for enough gold for a bed for the night.

Turned out he was drunk because he was passed over for the King's Body for his brother. He challenged him to a duel, and my sword shattered and killed his brother in a fluke.

Now my new master wants me to make more shattering swords.

Any ideas?

'Die Hard' As A Christmas Movie

Look, I get it. You can't just set a movie in December and toss in 'White Christmas' and have a Christmas movie. You have to have the morals and the themes to have one.

You gotta be about how family is important, about how friends, even new ones, can be family. Something about how money and things are nice but not the true meaning of the season, heck, maybe even something about how empty proclamations of morality aren't as good as true belief. And lots of red splashes.

And since 'Die Hard' has all of those, it's a Christmas movie.

The Scientific Method

The discovery of reliable fusion power, followed quickly by the first FTL drive, was a boon for Humanity not just on the obvious level of seeing to all our basic needs, but also it expanded our scope of scientific research exponentially.

Now we could go visit black holes and examine them up close. We could instigate a supernova to measure it at all stages of development. Now we could drill all the way through a planet and see what happens.

Yes, in doing so we unleashed an ancient evil, but we learnt so much during the aftermath, totally worth it.

The Need To Be Alien

So I knew that for the world to accept he was an Alien, when we went public he'd need to be more, well, Alien. Physical similarities were one thing, but he sounded human and 'normal', I had to change that. It took a little while but he eventually understood, and we began to brainstorm an affect for him.

His first idea was to be dismissive towards a group, calling us all 'females' or some such. I had to explain how people did that already.

Once he heard that, he got really offended I said his was normal for some reason.

Find Statement

I had asked for the files, so I could find the witness statement I needed, but I had been expecting an email with a cloud link, rather than boxes that looked twenty years old and smelt forty years old, filled with unsorted loose-leaf papers.

I'd pulled plenty of all-nighters at school, and I knew exactly how to prepare. Before I'd looked at one page I preordered food to be delivered every few hours, bought a dozen energy drinks, and had bedding sorted for power napping.

I found the statement within five minutes.

The office loved the free food next morning.

Turn, Turn, Turn

Revolutions are a tricky thing to control. Starting one is easy enough if you have enough time, or power, or influence. But they tend to take on lives of their own, as people get emotional and unpredictable.

You may want to move the needle a few places, and you may be able to handle it moving a quarter turn, but far too many revolutions end up spinning the wheel round and round, where it stops nobody knows.

Unless, of course, you own the wheel.

Until it gets chopped up and used as firewood to burn the wheelowners of the world.

The Clean Cowpoke

They call him the Clean Cowpoke round these parts. He turned up the day the government opened up the land to be claimed, his clothing as spotless as his cash. He convinced a few other settlers to sell their land. And then he vanished.

He turned up a year later, same clothes, still spotless, just before the sherriff foreclosed.

Then again, just in time, three years later.

Then five after that.

Every time spotless and just in time, ain't aging either.

Something's gonna happen on that land, and I...

Wait, that's him!

He ain't in danger of losing...

Oh dear.

The Worst Day Of My Life

It was the worst day of my life.

My alarm failed to wake me, and by the time I was running out the door I had a cut on my face and what I later learned was a broken toe.

I was not fired immediately when I got to work. I worked for most of a terrible shift before I put a foot through the ceiling, then I got fired

As I was escorted out, I tripped and slammed into a woman on the street.

And since she's my wife now, it was also the best day of my life.

Loose Translation

She didn't speak English, and I didn't recognize the other language scrawled in tiny matching columns on several loose pages she gripped tightly in her hands.

The conversation was slow and simple, as without any seeming order to her list, I tried to stick to simple questions.

Her name was Mitka.

She came from far, but attempting to get a name just resulted in confusion.

She came here because fighting. Many fighting.

Did she have family, friends, anything here? She just kept pointing to the only two word phrase in the list.

Help, please.

'No' was on the list, thankfully.

Walk After

Just one more mile.

How long had I been traveling? How many miles had I walked, every step one more towards my goal? Too long, too many, but finally it was going to be over.

Half a mile now.

The key hung around my neck, a reminder with every step of the promise my father made me after the end, before he died. That he had planned for, well not this, but something like it.

A hundred feet or so.

Find the rocks in a circle, pull back the tarp.

Find an already ransacked bunker.

Sigh.

Get back to walking.

Seep

There was an attack on the castle by mercenaries hired by the Royal Court of Woodglen. Under cover of, well, covered wagons they broke in and headed for the royal chambers.

They fought their way to the King's chambers, losing most of their numbers but one did break in and manage to take off his hand before he was cut down.

The King's stump was covered in hot tar as soon as they were able, but while the King survived the tar seeped into his blood and changed him.

At least to his own people, Woodglen didn't notice a change.

A To U

Six switches sat silently on the wall.
Flickable fixers, for frantic fixing of the issues.
Detailed descriptions didn't develop during my induction.
General guidelines graded gently on a curve instead.
Monitors monitored many model situations.
Issues induced index investigation and then flicks.
Tiny troubles take the top row.
Big bothers breed bottom flicks.
And all average actions associate with the middle.
Now, neverending nonsense nips across my eyes.
Can complete chaos come close enough to me?
Risk/reward really rolls repeatedly right to left.
Quick!
Engage!


Hours happen.


Let's look...
Jesus...
Order of operations out of alphabetical order!
Unacceptable.


Kill.

At A Stroke

It only took the knight a few stabs with his sword to break through the door enough to clear out the pathetic blockade I'd built. He slowly walked into the office, and I held the only thing I thought had a chance against him.

He slowly raised his visor.

"You do realise that's not what the expression means, yes?

"What expression?"

He looked confused, then lowered his visor. I knew I had one chance. He swung his sword in a small arc, but I'd already leaped, and jammed the pen through the visor and into his eye, blood bursting forth.

The Cupcakes Of Pain

I could smell the cupcakes through the door. I took a moment, then opened the door.

"I've not broken up nor have I lost my job, so clearly someone has died. Who is it, Grandma? Aunt Susan?"

"No, no, nothing is wrong, everyone is fine."

"Then why have you made cupcakes? You only ever make cupcakes when something horrible has happened!"

"I just... I just felt like making cupcakes and sharing them with you."

I went to say something when I got a text. I opened it, read my husband's message saying he wanted a divorce, then grabbed a cupcake.

The People Of Interest

The four of them stood around The Body, each one glaring at the others.

The Nurse broke the silence first, repeating that her drugs was stolen.

The Banker turned on The Actress revealing the secret that they'd shared as proof of The Actress' guilt.

The Chef lost his cool and attacked The Banker.

The Actor and The Nurse tried to step in, but The Banker then accidentally killed The Actress.

The Chef then killed The Banker.

The Nurse then defended herself but ended up killing them both.

The drugs wore off and The Body sat up, pleased with the results.

When You Need A Barbarian

The fractured expanse of time spread out before me. If it wasn't for the mindlock spell the Sorcerer had placed on my mind it would have collapsed inwards. But with the protection, I could see the joints, the open wounds, all the damage that had been inflicted on it. I turned to her.

"I fix... This?"

The Sorcerer shook her head.

"No, all that is, not normal, but just what happens when souls need one last moment with their loved ones, when coincidences need to occur."

She instead pointed to a creature feeding from a rupture. I hoisted my 'axe'.

The Power Of Love

The story is one you've heard lots of times, in one form or another. Two people meet, and despite reasons why they shouldn't be together, love finds a way.

It's a sentiment that almost everyone would agree, in theory, is sweet and something to support. And yet, everyone will have some sort of situation in mind where they wouldn't agree that it's good. From sport teams to political viewpoints and everything inbetween, everyone has their own ideas about what love cannot overcome.

But really, the only thing love can't break is the laws of the universe.

So far, at least.

Harnessed

My hand hovered over the control panel, about to launch the Reshaper, when the scanners started lighting up.

The galactic rules were clear, we were allowed to wipe and reseed a planet only if any indigenous populations were backwards enough. The long range scanners said this planet wasn't there, but nukes starting going off, so they just scraped in. We weren't allowed to claim the planet now, we'd have to...

After a solid few minutes of nukes exploding, I did a deep scan. Luckily they'd killed themselves off and we could proceed.

Well, not fully wiped out, but close enough.

Captured Queen

The two grandmasters sat down, the chessboard between them, dozens of cameras broadcasting this final game out to millions.

They'd played a few dozen times now, every game different, and yet always ending in an agreed upon draw. This was the last game ever, no time limit, there had to be a winner.

Skiratov was a master of white, Naismith a God with the black. So no wonder they just stared at the board for minutes, clearly thinking ahead so many moves.

Until Skiratov resigned without a single move actually played.

As they shook hands, elsewhere, Skiratov's wife was released.

G, C, D

G major, C major, D major.

As far as guitar chords go, they're pretty common, somewhat basic, and not that difficult.

G, C, D.

Played in order, there's probably no end to the songs that could fit into that structure.

G, C, D.

The guitar was slightly out of tune, she would hesitate at points, and calling her lyrics shallow would be an insult to the very concept of depth.

G, C, D.

But she was singing to me.

G, C, D.

She was singing about me. About us.

G, C, D.

That's why it's the greatest song ever sung.

So It Is Written

The Royal Historian was not traditionally a powerful position in the court, and was usually just filled by the Royal Tutor.

But with the education levels of the peasants beginning to rise, suddenly the King needed more than just his word to convince them. And so it became important to be able to refer to the past and explain why war must be fought, or what to do in drought.

This system worked well for a few generations, but then it became clear that removing the position and instead installing a Royal Speaker Of Tongues allowed for faster position shifting.

Where We Get New Talent

She fell out of a portal of purple fire. Full plate armor, albeit covered in soot and with fire still threatening to catch on her scabbard.

"Hello?"

She turned towards me and spoke in World 578 Common.

"Do not tempt me illusion! I-"

I waited for my translator to fully load the voice pack before I cut her off.

"This is your new world, your old life is gone and-"

"Lies! I will destroy the gates!"

She scrambled for her sword, as I sighed and turned on the electromagnet.

Sufficiently advanced technology portrays magic long enough to acclimatise new arrivals.

Line?

I took her hands, looked into her eyes, and waited for the words to flow.

And waited.

And waited.

And wait-

"Hello?"

Although the question was said with a bemused air, even I could sense the genuine concern behind it.

"I... You're my... Like, isn't this supposed to be easy? Surrounded by flowers and romance, I'm supposed to say what you mean to me easily and it all works out, right? How it works in the movies..."

If it was a movie, she'd be charmed and help me out.

But this was reality, and she didn't need a broken boy.

Body Delivery

I ordered a robodrive community car as I was filling my suitcase. I was confused when it didn't arrive on time, but when it finally did arrive my confusion changed. The blood and dead body inside it explained the delay, but now there was a body to consider.

I called the cops, and they sent drones swiftly. They poured over the car, asking me a lot of questions, scanning my phone, especially once they discovered the car's logs were wiped. But eventually they let me go. And not a moment too soon, the body in my suitcase was getting ripe.

Customer Rights

I recognized the look of someone who was going to be a difficult customer as she walked in. So I found something to do behind the counter and made a mental note to apologize to Becky as she approached her.

After a few moments, the woman, as I expected, stormed up to the counter.

"You the manager?"

"I'm the on duty manager, yes, how-"

"This salesgirl is useless and I demand better service, I'm good friends with the store owner!"

"She's the owner."

I pointed at Becky.

That was a lie, but worth it for the look on her face.

Reasonable Free Will

The time traveler told me I was important due to something about cosmic fatelines or something like that. Was odd to be given a time machine and an explanation right out of new age crystal worship.

But after a few trips backwards along my life, I had to believe him. I asked if I could go forward, and he gave me more weird talk about anything forward from my starting point was only a theoretical future, that it was the most likely outcome based on reasonable choices. But free will would will out.

I sped forward twenty years as much to get any from his words than to see what would happen.

I found myself in a darkened room, as a general gestured towards a map covered in lines and circles. She assured the President, which was me, apparently, that after these meganukes dropped, the five years of war would end.

I went back to my original time and went off on the time traveler. There was no way I'd make reasonable choices and end up there. I swore to prove it by making real reasonable choices.

And I avoided that future!

Much more reasonable to drop those bombs early.

State Lines

I woke up with a sharp pain behind my eyes, and some sort of blindfold in front of them. I vainly tried to remember what this week's safeword state was.

"Kansas?"

The blindfold was removed, but rather than my wife, it was a rather surprised looking thug.

"How the fuck did you know where we are?"

I glanced over him.

"Oh I know lots of things. For example, I know that if you don't let me go, Suzi is going to get a bullet to the head."

I'm lucky he didn't realize I read his tattoo until I was free.

Seasoned Killers

Winter was the first assassin to come after me. With her it was just a job, someone wanted me dead, and she tried to do it with her freeze magic. But my counter spells held and I killed her instead.

This brought her sister Spring after me, both for the bounty and to get revenge. Her attempt to punch my head off with a kinetic spell went badly for her.

Summer was right after that, but I turned her heat spell.

I assumed there was one more sibling. I didn't expect it to be Bob, stabbing me in the face.

Party Guest

The party was for one of my poker buddies, and she was his cousin. Her lips tasted of wine, although considering how much she had drunk over the evening that was to be expected. We tried to adjourn to a guest bedroom, but after we were interrupted by someone looking for the bathroom, she practically dragged me to her place down the street.

The time it took to hurry there was just long enough for me to wonder out loud if we should be doing this.

She gave me a choice, come inside or leave.

I stand by my choice.

Key Ring

The neural interface chipset developed in 2028 was the key to the perfection of robotic limbs and organs.

The 11-10 split decision in Chan V Gabriel in 2031 was the key to the floodgates opening to allow widespread production of these items by anyone with the know how, or near enough.

The "This Is A Man" art installation in 2035 was the key to inspire the investigation and discovery of the implanted echoes in discarded superceded limbs.

The Executive Order 28663 was the key to the riots that started the Limb Golem War, the key to understanding how Humanity died.

Break It Down

Break the problem into manageable parts rather than get overwhelmed by the thought the world as we know it might about to end.

So, the immediate problem is I'm being lowered into acid.

But only because I'm tied up. So, fix that.

Three knots, all simple enough, although bending upwards like this is awkward.

But done! Now holding onto rope over acid pit as guards are approaching since I'm on camera. Ok, break it down.

Swing on rope to land beside pit.

Done.

Now guards about to enter.

Hide behind doorframe, push into pit, watch them break down.

Move on.

Evil Process

Every few days there was another would-be hero. Every type of champion, from regular mercenary knights and wizards through exotic religious fighters and obscure weapon specialists, they would turn up and swear they would solve our problems, that they could defeat the evil plaguing our lands.

By now, we're pretty resigned to the process. Sure, we make a bunch of gold as they buy supplies and plan ahead for their celebrations afterwards.

But then came the knight in black armor, who finally defeated the evil.

Then took over the castle and was worse.

But we're resigned to that process too.

Lockup #0037

Lockup Number 0037 was the largest one in the complex, ground floor and in a corner. Despite being on the other side of the building from the entrance, it should've been popular.

But it was locked. Successive owners of the building were told of the mysterious man who'd turned up on the opening day and rented it for twenty-five years, paid for in full, in advance. How he was clear it was not to be disturbed.

Every owner did so, until twenty-five years later, when it was opened, and the mysterious man's corpse and his malfunctioned time machine were found.

Timed Release

My friend had been talking about going to a speed dating night for so long that I agreed to go with him in order to shut him up about it.

The first few women were nice enough, but we clearly had nothing in common. I was slowly losing confidence as she approached.

She was beautiful, sure, but she was funny, and we ended up going over our time as we discussed an upcoming RPG release.

I scored her highly, but never heard back, which was fine, until my buddy brought his new girlfriend to the midnight release of that game.

Acceptability

Oh, my role here in Historical Revision is very boring, you don't want to hear it.

Well, if you're sure, I guess you've got a high enough clearance level.

So, older texts are often problematic. They will have references and statements that are, while acceptable at the time, are not appropriate for general consumption today. So I will rework or delete the offending passages so as not to perpetuate the errors.

Obviously those with understanding of historical context are free to request untouched work, but that's not my department.

What happens to them isn't my department either, to be clear.

Guiltless

I never trusted the Warlock. It's all well and good to claim your natural affinity with the power of the cosmos is powerful, but I still think you need to study it first. Otherwise you end up like me, after a botched timehold spell, stuck being able to watch the world pass me by but unable to do anything to it.

But I guess that is in some ways a positive, since nothing that goes wrong now is my fault. All the bad things I've seen, what could I have done?

Wait, you're hearing me, so I could have...

Fuck.

Wake Up Attack

You're supposed to get an hour of recalibration when you emerge from stasisleep, with a couple technicians or at least the AI to help guide you through it.

I got maybe 30 seconds between the emergency wake and the moment when I had to rip the laserifle from the invader's hands and then blow off said hands with said laserifle.

It was like something out of an old video game, the way I had to fight both the invaders and my own inability to focus long enough to realise that the invaders all wore our uniforms until far too late.

Ring Lost And Found

I never begrudged anyone getting married, I was almost invariably happy that the two people involved had found love. Gary and Suzanne were the sole exception since even I knew they weren't good for each other.

But I was steadfast in my belief that it wasn't for me. I was far too selfish, lazy, arrogant, whatever negative adjective you wanted to apply, I probably embodied it. Trying to fit someone else into my life was just far too difficult.

And then Gary and Suzanne divorced, and suddenly everything changed forever.

If you'd met Suzanne's lawyer you'd have been infatuated too.

Bright Vs Dark

It's not exactly a fight between good and evil.

It's been going on since before there was a concept of time for it occur in, before there was a place in which it could be going on.

It's fought on every level of reality, from atomic to cosmic.

It's direct at times, but mostly the two sides take turns to influence and manipulate other beings to do what they want.

It's wrong to assume the bright side is good and the darkness is evil.

The fight being fought by those manipulating the brights and darks though, that is good/evil.

Tracking

I put the poison in the ninth glass. Ninth.

The servant spun the trolley around as they brought it out. There's a hundred forty-four glasses so it's in the hundredth...

No, back around in the elevator, ninth again.

And so now they begin to take them...

Watch the glass, ignore them taking them randomly, just watch the glass.

That one...

That one on the second top level of the pyramid, ok.

And of course it rotates as they pour.

Time it.

Greet the victim.

Get startled by the fireworks.

Lose track.

Guess.

Offer cheers, drink.

Mine is safe...

His...

Lucky!

Draft Entry

"Name?"

"Uh, Null."

There was a long pause.

"And how do you spell that?"

"N, U, double L."

Another long pause.

"Got a first name?"

"Sort of."

"All right, hit me."

"N/A."

"With a slash I presume?"

"You got it!"

He typed the names into the computer.

"So are you trying to ruin the database here for shits and giggles or is this political?"

"Hey, it isn't my fault if your set up isn't-"

The printer spat out his papers.

"John Smith?"

"Not my fault it assigns you a name, private. We got a war to fight here.

Next!"

The Old Sea And The Man

Even if there had been light this far underground, the water, if it was indeed water, was inky black, ripples moving through it disquietingly as he stared at it.

His filter was long useless, and he'd used the last purification tablet two days ago.

He needed to survive, he was so close to finding... He couldn't remember what he was looking for, but he knew he'd remember once he found it. But to find it he needed water.

This was water.

Slowly, he dipped his hand in, and drank.

He found what he was looking for.

And it found him.

The Text

Stories have power.

I think most people understand that, on some level. Most people will agree that the myths baked into a society help shape those inside it, be they moral tales or 'accurate history'.

But more importantly than those are the narratives we believe the world runs on. The way we talk about events, how we frame what occurs, these are more powerful, since how we see these is how we react and thus how they develop.

But most importantly of all are the stories we tell ourselves about who we are. Everyone's a hero to themselves.

Edit yourself.

Trust The Process

The swordwoman dumped a handful of scalps onto the desk.

"You had a problem with some orcs?"

I recoiled in horror.

"No! What made you think that?"

She paused, and pulled out a crumpled poster from a pouch on her belt. I looked it over.

"Yeah, this seal of the Sheriff over the reward offered is a fake, this is a forgery. Sorry."

The Swordwoman grumbled and stomped out of the jailhouse. The Sheriff then wandered in from the back.

"Who was that?"

"Oh, my husband dropping off more orc scalps. Can you go fetch our reward while I process?"

Minute Hand

It was a fusion reactor plate, forged in a neutron star forge along with a thousand other ones. But thanks to a minute impurity, it was slightly weak.

This led to it being the one that failed, and causes the battlecraft to suffer a containment leak and crash on the planet.

This led to a resource of tech for the natives to harvest several thousand years later, the drive plate being forged into a crown.

This led to the race, in several thousand more years, that saved the galaxy.

Which led to my coming here to add in an impurity...

Color Wheel

Blue, pink, green.

Those were the colors of her hair, when I first met her.

Black, white, red.

Those were the colors of a newspaper, when she told her lame joke.

Yellow, pink, orange.

Those were the colors of the prizes, when I got my eye in on our first date.

Red, black, silver.

Those were the colors of her elegant dress, when she proposed to me.

White, blue, pink.

Those were the colors of her wedding dress, when she bought it.

White, red, black.

Those were the colors of it when I got to the scene of the accident.

Viral Vira

Like a lot of viral stuff, it's hard to explain why it took off like it did. It was just an account on a video sharing network that posted a ten minute video each day of a moderately attractive youngish woman going about her life, as taken from security cameras. This video was her making meatballs while listening to a podcast, this one her watching cat videos, this one her taking a nap. I guess the mundane nature of this relaxed people, until it was discovered the woman didn't know about any of this.

That's when it really got popular.

Over

How long can you sit by and let someone be wrong? There's a guy in the next row of seats over who is loudly telling someone over the phone a bunch of stupid bullshit. I'm not going to bother trying to detail the extent of his wrongness, but suffice to say it's typical internet crap about how people loving each other is going to end the world. And I'm really getting tired of listening to it, and at some point I'm gonna have to do something, aren't I?

I should, shouldn't I? At least before he gets off?

Too late.

Red Card

As soon as I opened my apartment door, Lilith strode in and threw herself onto my couch. She never was one for niceties.

"Are you aware of the concept of marriage to secure citizenship?"

I coughed.

"Uh, yeah, sure. Why? You're not getting deported, are you? Surely Canadians are safe?"

For the first time that I could recall, she looked unsure of herself.

"Not exactly... Look, it's complicated, I need your help to stay here, do you trust me?

I nodded, and she waved her hands in an odd pattern, before she suddenly grew wings and her skin turned red, and I was suddenly seeing a lot more of said skin than I had been a minute ago. Her voice was raspy, as if it was somehow on fire.

"Slave, answer me."

"Slave? Lilith, what the hell?"

The only reason her confusion wasn't clear on her face was the fear already there.

"No no no, that had to work, he'll be aware of this in a moment, the only ways that wouldn't work would be anti-spell magic or if you already loved me...

Oh, well, that's convenient."

I don't remember the following meeting, but the thank you I'll never forget.

Humanity's Strength

The Elder Races Council was deep into the second day of discussion of the application of Humanity to join the Greater Alliance. No other application discussion had lasted longer than a few hours prior.

There was just so much history to wade through, every race could find an example of positive (in their eyes) actions and beliefs in their past, as well as negatives. Humanity was this huge, sprawling mass of dozens of cultures, all intertwined.

Which was why their application was eventually rejected. If Humanity couldn't agree on what Humanity was, without a winning culture, they couldn't be handled.

Meeting Her Hammer

Almost every morning she would climb onto the platform she'd built on her roof, and practice with what I later learned was a 'meteor hammer'. It was two weights on a chain, and she would spin and twirl it around for 15 minutes daily. Just long enough for my coffee and breakfast, as I sat in my upper floor flat opposite and watched.

It was always beautiful, I admired her skill and the way she handled it, but I didn't notice how she began to tailor the performance to entice me until she got desperate and threw it at me.

The Clockwork Man

The Clockwork Man does not think, like you or I do. He lacks the ability to do so. He merely repeats what he has been programmed to do, with adjustments as required. The Clockwork Man is a feat of engineering, do not misunderstand me, but you cannot expect him to be able to grasp complex concepts, to appreciate art, to truly love.

He simply cannot do so. You may be able to approximate such feelings with more programming, but true enlightenment is impossible. Just accept this, my dear, and forget this damn silly notion that you can love an accountant.

Drunken Master Thoughts

Obviously, if I drank enough to lose control of basic motor skills, I'd be useless in a fight.

But likewise, being as sober as a judge wasn't going to help either, as I needed the flexibility, the relaxation, and to be frank, the anaesthetic qualities of the alcohol flowing through my veins.

There was some wiggle room, a half bottle of brandy either side where I could fight and be of some limited use, but the sweet spot was one I had to keep a very close eye on.

Attacking mid-hangover is still a massive cheap shot though, you bastard.

The Most Amazing Girl

Every day I told her how amazing and wonderful she was. That she was the most incredible girl on Earth.

At first, she found it charming, then endearing, then just part of who I was. But eventually she insisted to know why I kept having to repeat it.

I tried to stall, but eventually I had to confess that i needed her to be amazing, as if she was amazing and loved me, I had to be special too.

She showed me why that was a bad attitude to have and helped me through it, since she really was amazing.

Delayed Thanks

On one level, I should have been nothing but grateful once the superspace communication relay came online. I was able to communicate with my wife in almost real time, despite the millions of miles between us. But as I always said when we talked, those thirty second delays always felt like an eternity, as I would wait, staring at her, for my message to get to her then hers back to me. But now, I suppose I really am grateful, as I had an extra thirty seconds with her before her ship blew up and I lost the connection forever.

Death's Lie

I didn't see the truck, not until it was far too late.

As I died, a figure formed before me, smoke gathering into a hood, bone hands tightly gripping a scythe as it prepared to swing.

"Seriously? Scythe wielding skeleton? Come on..."

The scythe dipped.

"I try to appear how one expects. You'd prefer the busty female version from your comic books?"

I shook what was the equivalent of my head.

"How about what you actually are? I don't appreciate lies, regardless of the reason."

The figure paused, and then became everything and nothing, simultaneously. Shocked me to, you know.

Chain Of Power

It was a gold chain, a few dozen links, a few diamonds embedded in some links, others with empty settings where, presumably, diamonds once sat. Pry the remaining jewels out, melt down the gold, it'd be worth a few months rent, you'd say.

But it was worth more, wars had been fought over it, since whoever held it ruled the land, it was priceless.

Should it have been so, though? How much is that control worth, is power really such an important thing?

And, more importantly, the gold and the jewels were fake, so its value is even more questionable.

Mandarin

It looked like a guitar, just more rounded. I picked up the orange colored instrument and plucked at it a few times as the owner of the store wandered over.

"Antique that. One of the few western instruments found in China from before the revolution. Owned by a high ranking bureaucrat, he was apparently quite fixated on his youth, he'd play this to remind himself of-"

I placed the instrument down slowly.

"Are you honestly expecting me to believe this is a maudlin Mandarin's mandolin?"

"Almost there. Note the color, sweeter than orange, smaller too."

I walked out in disgust.

Deleting Her

"Next!"

The next customer walked in and sat down. The sadness was clear on his face, I'd seen it dozens of times before, but the policy was clear, I had to ask.

"So what can we help you forget today?"

"My wi... My ex-wife."

"Ah, a common issue. So were you after a memory deletion or the emotional drain?"

He shuffled in his seat.

"Actually I was wanting to delete her from existence. You do that here too, right?"

I sighed, and shook my head.

"I'll have to put a bigger sign up. This is MemChange.

HisChange is next door."

No Discounts

Every few weeks, another foolhardy attempt is made to storm Death Castle. Sometimes it's just the one religious zealot who is sure their faith and associated magic will protect them, other times it's a large group of all sorts of warriors. They all come into my farm near the base of Mount Chaos and I sell them what I can while warning them of all the traps and dangers in the castle and surrounding mountain area.

Good thing they are there and still working though. Otherwise I'd have a lot less income since Queen Mayhema died few years back now.

What I Want During My Mood

What do I want here?

Obviously I want this to end, I'd like to be well, but that's not about to happen immediately, or any time soon.

I don't want sympathy or pity, I know damn well there's people in much worse shape than me, this is nothing in the grand scheme of things.

And that extends to any attempt to give me a solution or cure. If it was a simple fix, I'd have fixed it by now.

So what do I want? The world to pause for a while. But since that's impossible, uh...

Some nachos maybe? Please?

Balance

Balance.

I was created from chaos, from the world in pain as it burned. I was made to try to bring balance back.

At first it was easy, put out the fires, end the suffering, and I could sleep. But as the voices grew louder, more and more hate would spread and consume so many lives, it became harder and harder to sleep, as I needed more and more energy and time to regain the balance.

But worse was the flip side, as hate subsided, all that love...

I had to end them all at that point.

Balance, after all.

Threat Alert Black

GS Clone #48 ran into room with his weapon drawn, expecting he would have to use it, given the threat level. Instead he found an empty room.

Maybe the alert was wrong? Maybe it wasn't meant to be this high, maybe... Wait, there's a body behind the-

GS Clone #49 was more cautious, reviewing the holofootage first before entering the supposedly empty room, just seeing the flash of metal-

GS Clone #50 instigated Emergency Protocol CM3, and once GS Clones #51 and #52 were printed, they entered the room, and finally captured GS Prime and returned him to the booth.

The Five Feasts

There were five types of feast you'd have in your life.

The first you wouldn't remember, as it was for your birth. Your mother would be fed well, and all guests would bring one long lasting item for the family.

The annual winterend feast was simple enough to understand, whatever food was left was consumed before the new season.

The feast to decide a new leader was loud, chaotic, and effective.

The feast to ask to marry was quiet, intimate, and often without result.

The final feast, people would come, celebrate your life, then take a food item from you.

Not Mine

It was the party held for my nineteenth birthday, although I wouldn't say it was my party, I hadn't wanted it.

The drink I held in my hand was rum and coke, although I wouldn't say it was my drink, it had been shoved in my hand.

The girl who held my attention was talking to Chloe, although I wouldn't say Chloe was my friend, she just hung around my place most days.

The moment that hung as Chloe introduced Rosemary to the birthday boy and then left us alone, that awkward silence was all mine.

And hers.

Ours, really.

Big Numbers

Four screens, sixteen cameras, three shifts, eight hours each.

All day, every day. Every ten seconds, they all switch. Every ten seconds, four more views of the same room.

Automation would be coming in four to six months, a computer checking every feed every microsecond. It had been coming in four to six months for four to six years.

But today, there was just two eyeballs watching the four screens, as usual. And there was one path, one possible way to get in and out without being seen.

Which only needed one person to use to speed up the automation.

Power Gauntlet

The gauntlet was the only part of the First Queen's armor to survive the Battle of All Hope. It quickly gained power as a symbol of rebellion and defiance against the Dark Ruler. The symbol of the Underground, it became the symbol of the Second Empire, images woven into battle flags, the gauntlet the last item new rulers took during coronation. The power the Gauntlet had to inspire, to rally, to symbolize all that was good, was immense.

But it took many generations before someone asked how it survived that battle and began the path to unlocking its actual power.

Anyone Helping Someone

She was drawn to him, his hunched over figure outlined against the flickering streetlights bringing her close while driving everyone else away.

"Are you ok?"

He raised his head.

"The hell you care?"

She sat down next to him on the curbside.

"I'm just someone who wants to help, and you look like you need some."

"You must be new around here, if you approach strange men like this. You don't know who I am!"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters! I could be anyone!"

"You're someone. That's enough."

He tried to think, then just collapsed into her arms.

The Context Of Bob

Their language had a limited number of phonetic elements, and a finite limit to the length of a word. Therefore, context and inflection were essential, as they were the only way to determine if 'Bob' meant rain, or weightlessness sickness, or a shade of yellow, or any of a few dozen words and phrases.

They understood that to us it was a name, my name. I was the best translator we had, but at a crucial moment...

It ended up with another meaning. "One who cannot distinguish a friendly greeting and a heinous insult."

It comes up a lot now.

Assume

The group of professionals had planned the hit for three months, every angle covered, they assumed.

The group of friends had 24 hours to get the money together, and an inside man, so it would be easy, they assumed.

The group all had their own enemies, who had come together to deal with them all quickly, suddenly, and thus would get away clean, they assumed.

The boss who had the friends by the balls wanted to ensure they were screwed, if not they might succeed, he assumed.

The sole survivor has all the money and lives under an assumed identity.

Putting Out The Fire

He tried to balance the need to alert those in command of the issue that had arisen with the desire not to cause panic. But there's only so many ways you can say that the reactor core is locked in an inescapable cascade across an open commlink, if you decide to make sure the message is transmitted.

Yes, officially, he should have gone through proper reporting channels, the filing triplicate memos and such, but he assumed he'd either be a hero or dead, so why not risk it?

Now, at he is being court-martialed, he knows why he shouldn't have.

The Brother And The Sister

The Brother And Sister loved each other as Twins do.

They decided to make a world together, to rule and shape.

But to do this, they had to reduce their power, so as to interact with our level of reality.

She did this successfully, but he went too far, and was thrown down as one of us instead.

He can return to rejoin his sister, but he will need energy, faith, love, in order to achieve his true purpose he needs our help.

He does not need your money, don't be silly. He needs the blood of your sister, obviously.

A Rainy Day

The mattress was stuffed full of cash, every saved dollar he'd saved over his life, ready for a rainy day.

A rainy day caused a car to swerve and take him out.

No one knew about it and it was sold at auction for a buck.

The guy who slept on it was living hand to mouth every day, unaware of the fortune beneath him.

He was unaware of the water beneath him until it was too late.

The mattress got thrown out onto the curb. It was for to burst with a little push.

It was a rainy day.

My Ends Of The Worlds

My first end of the world was an accident. I tried to cast a rather large spell, the energy building went a little overboard, I broke the world apart. But the spell worked, and I reached another universe.

My second end of the world was less an accident exactly, more a response to one, as my attempt to cast another spell without ending the world went badly, so I ended the world to get out of there.

My third end of the world was a test to make sure the first two weren't flukes.

I've lost track of them now.

Monster

The ghost materialized before me. We both stared at each other for a moment.

"You gonna scream or something?" It finally asked me.

"No, why, should I?"

It considered this.

"Well people usually do, but I guess you don't have to..."

I shrugged.

"I mean, I guess you're unusual and all, seeing how I can see through you and all. But other than that I don't see why I should be afraid of you. You're not on fire or anything."

"Fair enough my name is, was, Doris."

"Not sure I have a name yet, my creator says I'm a Golem."

I Alone

I held her hand the first day we met, as we skipped around in a circle in kindergarten.

I held her hand the first time we went on a date, as we headed into a darkening cinema to see a bad movie.

I held her hand the last time we saw her father, as he yelled about our love being an abomination, I held her back.

I held her hand the first time as partners after we exchanged our vows on our wedding day.

I held her hand for the last time as she died in the hospital.

Not alone.

Under Cosmic Glass

The alien conspiracy is both deeper and shallower than you imagine.

There are aliens controlling every aspect of our lives. Every major government, every international company, every major technological leap and setback is under direct orders by those pulling the strings, mostly through bribery and subtle manipulation, but also the occasional replacement of someone by an alien.

All for one grand purpose.

That's not that grand.

Trust me, it really doesn't make up for all the work they've put in. Sure, to them this is literal child's play, but even so, being a cosmic ant farm is a little insulting...

Acting Roles

When he was a child actor, he did what his parents told him to do.

When he was an adolescent actor, he did what he had to in order to get paid to pay his dealer.

When he was a middle-age actor, he did whatever jobs he was offered.

When he was an almost homeless actor, he did what the hot young experimental director asked him to do.

When he was an award winning darling of Hollywood, he did only the choicest roles.

When he was an old man, he told his child actors not to listen to their parents.

Counting Down

I started counting the votes when the first boxes arrived. I managed to keep an eye on the totals at first, but pretty soon there were enough boxes that I had to focus on my numbers.

As I worked through my boxes I kept my emotions in check, even as I began to sense that the numbers were on the side of sanity and progress. Every box nudged up the buffer a little more, by the time I finished I felt confident.

Then I saw the totals.

Well, at least my local neighbors were mostly on my side, at least.

The Final Speech

Despite the sound of her sword entering the ground being somewhat soft, it managed to attract everyone's attention. Her speech held it for a few more moments.

It should have been recorded, word for word, and taught to every child from now to the end of our nation's history. Never before, or again, would a mere few hundred words inspire such bravery. And because of it, they fought so valiantly, allowing all those civilians behind their lines to escape. But they all gave their lives to ensure it, and those words were lost.

But at least they can't be misused...

An Amazing Weekend

She was the copilot, I was the 'lucky' winner of an 'amazing weekend' starting with a private jet trip. I was napping until it went down, the copilot saving my life after it crashed.

Unlike in the movies, she had a satellite phone and rescue was quickly sourced, just a couple days away, supposedly. Maybe that's why she declared she would take this chance to relax and lounge about with no clothing on. She invited me to join her, but I refused and stayed away from her.

You'd think they'd tell you this was the planned weekend ahead of time.

Review

"So you're the fake review person?"

"Internet Realignment Coordinator, thank you."

"And you're going to set up a bunch of fake accounts for us?"

"I will be utilizing Automated Belief Enhancement  Protocols, yes."

"Enough to drown out the negative reviews from our past customers?"

"I will ensure that the corrected record is equalized to a more favorable position for the company."

"And this is all within the questionable guidelines of the legal system, I take it?"

"Oh, no, this is highly illegal.

I say that so you understand why my fee is so high and to be paid so discreetly."

Liquid Assets

The timing was... suspect.

Right when I needed an influx of funds to ensure the deal didn't fall through, here was an old friend, out of the blue, calling me up and asking if I had any leads on investment opportunities as he had liquid assets he needed to get off the books.

I should have pushed for more information, should have smelt a rat. But I just put it down to amazing timing and took the cash.

So now I need a much bigger pile of cash to pay off the criminals after me.

You got any liquid assets?

Quarantined

The bomb shelter door was hidden behind a false wall with a swinging mechanism. So when it was closed, it was hidden perfectly.

It probably would have remained hidden if the new owner didn't want to turn the basement into a soundproofed room. The sledgehammer bouncing off the lead caused the builders to investigate and then open it up.

The radiation locks had held, for what it was worth. And the oxygen generators had kept up well.

But the choice of reading material had been 'problematic', thus the choice of what the occupants called the black man holding the sledgehammer.

Not Get Sick

I wouldn't get sick, I decided.

Yes, in my rush I didn't really look at the chicken breast I'd marinated and cooked the previous night. Not till the last bite, when I noticed the uncooked center.

But I wouldn't get sick. I decided. I'd be fine.

The rumbling in my stomach was normal, I wouldn't get sick. I decided it, I had too much going on, I wouldn't get sick.

But then the rumble got worse, so I went to the bathroom and made myself throw up and clear it from my system.

Thus I didn't get sick.

Sort of.

Ranch Dictionary (Excerpts)

Maverick (noun) - Unbranded cattle, therefore unowned.

Maverick (proper noun) - The local known for being able to hunt down lost or desired cattle.

Unowned (adjective) - 1. Without an owner.
2. Currently possessed by one person that is not you but which you nevertheless wish to own.

Donation (noun, specific) - The price Maverick demands to deliver a Maverick or Mavericks that are unowned.

Deliver (verb) - The action of Maverick bringing you the cattle you requested. Takes place only at night, and only if Maverick still trusts you.

Double-Cross - (noun) What you intended to do to Maverick.

Dead (adjective) - Whst you now are.

Hole In The Heart

It was a tiny hole in the breastplate, left when the new King's standard over his heart was affixed. He would have had it fixed but the war needed him on the frontlines, Field Generals who had actual fighting experience were rare.

But as he stepped onto his horse to head to the battlefield, an old crone grabbed his hand and said he would die soon because of the hole in his heart.

He tried to tell himself that he didn't believe in such things, but it was on his mind, distracting him until the broadsword went through his brain.

Keeping Her Her

I had a limited number of gigs to store her in. I had to be selective.

Obviously her appearance and her voice files had to be in there, she wouldn't have been her without those.

Likewise I needed to put in her memories, although I had to clear out a lot of junk there. She didn't need to remember any of her school years, just the main points until she met me.

After I cleared all that out though, it seemed like I could fit her entire personality on the hard drive.

But I might make some slight edits anyway.

Pardon Me

The crumpled piece of paper was going to save a life.

Handwriting neatly laid out along the lines printed on it, stating in clear, unambiguous language that the execution should be stopped, sparing an apparently innocent man from a death he should not endure. The signature was large, placed with a flourish at the bottom, the Governor not one to skimp.

Which was why this was the second one written, the Governor didn't like how his signature looked on the first one.

It still got to the jail in time, but much closer to the deadline than it should have.

Flipped Off

When he caught someone, he would trap them and go through a spiel about how he was now faced with a choice, he could kill them and get the reward, or keep them alive and get the slightly larger reward.

He'd then flip the coin, the crudely etched X on one side flashing through the air, before it would land in his hand, and he'd hiss and pull out his gun, and then if they had anything to offer, that was the time they'd do so.

It took years for two people to survive and realise both sides meant death.

Spellcheck

I pressed my thumb against the glass to open the message app.

- Suzi is balling on the couch Bob left her

- *Bawling.

- What?

- The word is bawling.

- No it's not

- Do you want me to show you the dictionary entry? If she's crying uncontrollably that is bawling.

- Maybe, but Suzi is not crying, shes scrunched up into a ball and just staring at nothing.

- ...

- Oh. Fine then. Forget?

- No, shes just linked to fox for first time. Cheer up?

- Right, I'll let you know when it's ready.

I waved off my crystal ball and got to work on the spell.

Bet Your Bottom Dollar

Each day, the sun rises. No matter how many doomsdays have been predicted, no matter his many times supposedly wise people have sworn that it will not rise tomorrow, it has, without fail.

People, when faced with no other option, will fall back on this as the last ditch pick-me-up. The very last refuge of positivity, no matter how bad it seems, at least you can rely on the sun coming up.

But this is an example of survivorship bias, we're only here because it has kept rising so far.

Plus we don't know about what's happening next Tuesday yet.

Cubicle 357's Secret Desire

I had been deleting before hitting call all morning. Just before lunch time, I accidentally hit the call button and it began to ring. I hung up quickly, but a few moments later she called me.

I answered, trying to keep calm, and asked what she wanted. She asked me what I wanted, since I'd just called her. I scrunched up the short speech I'd written and tossed if over my shoulder while saying it was nothing.

I suddenly realised she'd sounded louder than usual on the phone just as she picked up the scrunched up paper and began reading.

Love Street

The Irvines lived across the street from us. Never had any issues with them ourselves, you understand, but they did have issues with some of the local residents who were a bit more involved in the church, as it were. Every few days there would be another set of hate mail spread in all our letterboxes or just a loud yelling idiot outside their house saying that despite their sinful choices being legal now, they were still gonna burn in hell. But I disagreed, and I don't see why a white man can't claim a colored girl if he chooses.

Foreseen

The Pregenerators fought back the Invermin and drove them out of this continuum once before. But they could foresee a point where they would return, and they also foresaw that they would die out long before this point.

So they seeded hundreds of planets with various races, guiding their development as long as they could, do that when the Invermin returned, Androsians could fight them while Foxions handled the tactics, Bretiaxists ensured communication via telepathy, and so on.

But for all their smarts, they didn't see how the untouched humans could change things.

Nor what would happen after the war.

3.7 Seconds

I knew that it would be the last time I ever saw her. For both our sakes, they'd never stop looking for us if she left with me. But as I stood beside the car we'd stolen the previous night, I knew I had to ask. I had to offer her a life of constant danger and running forever, which was the cost of being with me.

The fact that she hesitated, the fact that she was torn for more than a second, the fact she nearly said yes, that's what has kept me going all these years since then.

Marked Out

I chose the planet at random, or at least semi-random, since I made sure that the one I picked was not overly dramatic in its continental movement, and the orbit was stable, all that sort of thing still left me with a few million uninhabited and unclaimed planets.

Within a month of setting up camp I stumbled upon one of these markers, and began this fucking quest to bring peace to the galaxy. What are the odds?

Well, I mean, considering most uninhabited planets are uninhabited because the markers make people uncomfortable, I guess the odds were actually good, really.

Passed Down

Heavy lies the crown on the head, so they say.
That's why I dreaded once I foresaw this day.
I never wanted to hold the power.
But they keep saying come the man, come the hour.
As a prince I know I'm blessed,
But then came my father's bequest.
My brother, he went mad in the war.
My sister, the holy light she has saw.
So despite my not being the legal heir,
I'm now seated on the big important chair.
As my father dies, I try to come to grips,
Until he whispers finally, "We all felt like this."

Hidden Weapon

He stood up slowly, leaning heavily on the cane that stayed straight under the weight. He took a few steps towards me, the cane making a clicking noise as he did, before he stopped as I checked the reload function on my shotgun.

"You don't fool me, grandpa. I know you have a hidden weapon, and its clearly this."

I swung my shotgun down and blew the cane away, his leg shifting back and then it kept going as he came around with a roundhouse, knocking me out.

He said something about being a secret weapon as I passed out.

Curated World

The AI was supposed to do, well pretty much everything for everyone. The amount of information and content available was so far beyond any one person's ability to search through and navigate, the AI was to remove the burden from us, it could learn and study each of us and curate content for us, while still making sure we stuck to reality.

But it didn't do that. At first it did, on a superficial level it worked, but pretty soon everyone was on the same pages, seeing and believing the same, not quite accurate world view.

Efficiency was skyrocketing though.

Forget Love

I got the call in the middle of cutting the lawn, and rushed to the hospital as fast as I could. When I got there, I found the emergency department and practically screamed at the nurse, for which I apologized later. A doctor came out and calmed me down, and explained that her physical injuries were would heal, but the amnesia was severe and that could last much longer.

I was worried this would mean she would have forgotten me. But it was 'anterograde' amnesia and so I had to explain every few moments why she was all beat up.

Figure Study

The figure strode confidently into the room, ready to take command.

Quick, did you picture a man or a woman? A confident leader, did you automatically assume maleness? Or rather since I didn't specifically state it was female, it must default to male? That says a lot about you, doesn't it?

And don't even get me started on whatever race you defaulted to, that's almost certainly another big issue you need to work through.

You want to know who it was? Oh, it was a creature of darkness here to consume us all but let's focus on your problems here.

Physical

Our first interaction was when I hit her over the head with a toy truck. In my defense, I was five at the time, and she hit me right back.

Our relationship remained somewhat physical, most of the time we spent together as kids was when we were playing soccer (three pennants in a row!) or volunteering with building homes for the needy.

Throughout high school, we stayed friends, even as I took up basketball and she became a state champion runner.

But then one night we got physical.

In my defense I was drunk and she kissed right back.

Take The Shot

Take the shot.

Every time I was about to assassinate someone, I heard his voice.

Take the shot.

He taught me everything, every way to kill from a distance and the needed mindset.

Take the shot.

You couldn't get hung up on the morality of the mortality, you just did thd job and moved on.

Take the shot.

When I got the offer from my current employers, he wasn't a fan, but he told me what I needed to hear.

"Take the shot."

I did, both the job and the final task to get it, which was to shoot him.

Hall Of Power

I used to think that the problem with this place was that everyone was only out to stab everyone else in the back. That no-one truly cared about their colleagues nor their constituents, just about their own position and how to improve it.

Certainly I didn't, I was always looking on how to ensure my position and sabotage my enemies on both sides of the aisle.

But then I got shot. Some crazy nutjob worried about corn subsidies. And all my fellow politicians supported me so amazingly.

It was then I realised they also wanted to look like they cared.

Sky Of Ozone

Leo threw his head back, his thick hair falling back across his scalp. Before him, stretching out into the distance, the golden starlight bridge called him and his new allies. He glanced at them, at much to steel his nerves then to check on their readiness.

The robot, his personality matrix damaged but otherwise still functioning.

The cloned solider, trying to become more than just another body to throw in a looping guard circuit, needing a soul.

And the girl, a stowaway. Name of Rosanna, which felt slightly off but yet appropriate all the same, somehow. He wasn't sure why.

Rechal Janice Worth

He'd been running from responsibility his entire life, thanks to stupidly rich parents who indulged him as long as he stayed on the right side of the law. He had little interest in joining the family business and even less in forging his own path.

But then he was involved in one of his on-again/off-again (and equally rich) girlfriends getting pregnant. The families viewed it as a merger opportunity and also assumed that on this day, as he held his daughter for the first time, he would grow up.

He was on a plane to Tokyo within 4 hours.

Subclause 17, Subsection 6

The Very Important Executive placed the contract before me. The Very Important Executive handed me a pen and smiled, as a couple of his flunkies looked on. I knew I was going to sign it, walking out now would get me a reputation. But I felt the need to at least pretend to do due diligence. So I flicked through the contract as if I was speedreading it then stopped at a random clause, and demanded clarification about what 'ancillary rights' meant.

I guess I got lucky that I picked the one they wanted to screw me over with later.

Needed Rekindling

The candle was about to burn out, a thin trail of smoke and a tiny flame the only thing still illuminating the room. The flame had stopped reflecting off the good silver, the now lukewarm unopened bottle of champagne, the crystal glasses, it now only just spilt light over the cold lobster and the hardened desserts. Apart from the water glass having moved several times, the table was untouched from several hours earlier, when the romantic dinner was supposed to start. But then given she had grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bedroom instead, he didn't mind it.

Semi-Natural Resource

It helps to imagine magic like a liquid, like water. Like water, it can do amazing things, but a lot of things need a lot of it and a lot of time to do it properly. A spell to change the world these days, with the amount of magic available, needs decades to fully cast. Sure, in the old days you could vanish a whole island with a wave of your hand, these days you need years to rebuild a bridge.

Unless you build a dam, and wait, and then cast when it is ready.

And I'm ready...

Now.

Goodbye.

Eye Scream

It started as just a small pinprick of pain behind my eye. It would throb when I was tired or stressed. But that was rare, so I didn't think too much of it.

But slowly it became larger and would bother me more often. I probably should have seen a doctor, but there's always another crisis to deal with, another issue to sort out. So I just put up with it.

Then one day it just vanished. No more pain, nothing. I thought I was just lucky.

The idea I'd just stopped feeling anything there didn't occur to me, sadly.

Till Death

The maid found the body, and alerted the Master, who strode into the bedroom for the first time in ten years.

Their marriage had been purely for convenience, she had a title but no money, he had money and no title, and they were both good enough at acting appropriately.

And yet, at this point, as he gazed at the body in his wife's bed, he felt, for just a moment, a pang of actual sadness at the end of their relationship. But it passed, and he did what he had to, calling the cops to arrest his murdering wife.

The Line

The line was holding.

Wave after wave of the enemy kept rushing towards their position, and falling back with slightly fewer of their number. They would regroup, then return after a few moments and try once more to break through.

They had to hold, if they lost this battle they would lose everything. They were the final stand, the final troops. They were fighting for the civilians behind them, their families. They fought with all they had.

Far inside the enemy lines, a general looked through his eyeglass, while another one stood nearby.

"How is it?"

"The line was holding."

DeathToAll.exe

No more than seventeen lines of code, sitting on a flash drive. Stored between a jpeg of a large breasted Japanese woman and the save data for a flash rpg about beating up women.

If the code was inserted into a website's code, it would eventually being down the entire internet, at least as much of it not unplugged in time. Self-replicating, practically impossible to stop, it would infect, spread, then shut the computer down, nothing but a total wipe would fix it.

It was uploaded three months ago. But thankfully it was uploaded with the spelling mistakes not spotted.

Maintaining Control

It had been five weeks since we left the dock, and three weeks since we last had a decent wind. Tempers were frayed, to say the least.

The quartermaster had reduced rations down to a fifth, and cut grog down to a tenth. While the crew wasn't talking about mutiny just yet, the Captain could feel it in his bones.

This is when drastic actions needed to be made. The captain did realise this, and intended to do whatever he had to to keep the crew happy.

But he wouldn't let them touch the cargo. Good slaves cost too much.

Bit Of Cardboard

It was my high school formal, right before we finished our time there and moved on to university or work or whatever. They have out awards, most studious, most popular. I won one, biggest grub, the most messy. I got a laugh by walking up to collect the award with a pitcher of cola I was drinking from.

Afterwards she came up to me. She was the class president, the best and brightest. I was just the big guy everyone knew and no one hated, and because of those two apparently equal traits, we had both been chosen to be the student representatives on a school report thing, I'd not paid much attention during the meetings. We weren't friends as such but she was friendly with most people, apparently.

But as a few people were dancing and others were drinking or kissing or both, she asked something of me.

"Why do you play that up? You don't have to act like that."

I gave a noncommittal answer and slinked away, not wanting to get into a debate, but I think about her a lot off and on.

I feel bad that she must live her entire life playing a role.

Lost Role

To the few people who knew of the factoid, it was just that, a cute little factoid. Anna Pivot's sole acting credit was nominated for the highest award in acting, technically giving her a spotless record for nominations, if not awards as that year was won by the woman who usually wins.

But the thing is, everyone who knows this, none of them seem to be worried that they haven't seen the movie, no one seems to have seen it, or have a copy of it.

And this was only three years ago! Not cool!

Unless the movie sucks, maybe.

Protective Lies

"You've lied to me about who you are this entire time?"

Of all the reactions to this accusation she would have predicted as likely, a bemused smile would not have made her list. And yet that's what occurred.

"Of course I did. If I hadn't, you'd have turned me in without a moment's hesitation."

She considered this. She would have agreed with him but she was still angry.

"And are you lying about anything else?"

"Sure. So that you can't be held accountable for my actions and slash or go mad. But I'll be honest with you soon" he lied.

Star Immigration

Taken individually, each wave of immigrants from the stars, while facing the usual xenophobia and discrimination that most immigrants faced, were accepted into Earth society.

But after a few generations, there was obvious and clear lines drawn. The ghettos were dirty, poorly maintained, full of crime and drugs and all the issues that come with the term 'ghetto'.

The governments made token efforts to alleviate the poverty, but there was always the fact that everyone knew that it was an inevitable part of their nature.

I mean, have you looked up how the Humans acted prior to their superiors coming?

Flashed

There was a camera in the other room. Someone had fed the feed to the small monitor in front of me. Given I was tied up and gagged, it drew my full attention.

As soon as I saw my wife on the screen, my heart sank. Was she going to be beaten up or tortured, or worse? There was no audio, so I couldn't hear the order given to her by the gunman, but her hands went to her top and I looked away, until the flash of metal as she drew a knife and threw it.

At the camera.

Forgotten Bill

Bill! Better do that tomorrow. I keep forgetting, so much going on, with the new system at work taking so much of my time to implement, not to mention the quarterly reports being due soon. Plus I've got my side gig making and selling brooches online, that's taking off now, gotta knock out a few dozen of those by Sunday as well. Then you toss in my gym time, the charity work stuff I keep quiet on mostly, and finding time to binge on Reality TV occasionally, things slip your mind.

But tomorrow I really should break up with Bill.

Black Blade

He made swords, daggers, anything with an edge that cut, he could make. Being in a coastal trading village allowed him to encounter and study blades from all across the seas. From the thinnest rapiers to the thickest broadswords, he knew how to make them all.

Except one.

It hung over his fireplace, pockmarked and blackened, yet still the sharpest blade he had found. Every so often he would make another attempt to recreate it, trying a new alloy or method, but never working out how to make it.

He just held it to the next cycle of the world.

Thoughtful Gesture

My Dearest One,

I do not have much time. Not nearly enough to tell you in every way how much I love you, barely enough time to finish this note. Suffice to say, i adore you and wish that this could have been avoided, or at least delayed some in order for me to spend more time loving you.

But, I do not control time, nor space, not even those coming for me. All I control is this hand that writes these words, that mails the envelope, and that includes the keys to the lockbox as well.

Love,
Your Beloved

Figures By Firelight

Two figures, backlit from the burning remains of a formerly impenetrable fortress. The first figure draws a blade, long, sharp, dripping with fluid.

"Any last words?"

The second figure, their arm also dripping with fluid, takes a step backwards, as if that would help.

"Surrender and you'll not be harmed."

The blade drops in clear bemusement.

"Really? You honestly think that I should surrender to you? You honestly think you have the upper hand here?"

The second figure shrugs, the movement painful.

"Sort of, but really I just wanted to delay you."

The first figure is decapitated by a third.

Hand That Drinks

The booze was kicking in as I got kicked out. So my otherwise erudite argument on the subject of why I should be allowed to remain inside the venue was slurred. Clearly the only reason it failed, I'm sure.

As I finished my appeal with speculation about the parentage of the bouncer and if the two were in fact related, I felt a hand sliding into my pocket.

Such a low act, to try to pickpocket a man at that point! I suddenly thrust my hip towards the wall to break their hand.

Or my hand, as it turned out.

My Robot Buddy (TM)

My Robot Buddy (TM) sat down on the end of the bed.

"Hiya! Whatcha doin'?"

The girl looked up slowly, her eyes red and sore.

"Crying! What do you think?"

My Robot Buddy (TM) paused, their irises rotating as they downloaded new information.

"Happy crying?"

"No!"

My Robot Buddy (TM)'s irises spun more.

"So you're upset then?"

She glared at My Robot Buddy (TM) but nodded, once. My Robot Buddy (TM) took a long moment, its online search engine moving away from the approved datasets to other data sources.

Her new robotic friend gently touched her hand with its own.

Without Her

How could I rebuild my life after her?

How could I even begin to try and piece together some semblance of normality without her?

How could I go about my day, how could I pretend everything was fine, how could I go grocery shopping or pay bills or even just talk to someone without bursting into tears and falling to my knees?

How could I?

She was gone without a proper goodbye. But I know that if she was able to come back to say goodbye, she'd first kick my ass if she thought I couldn't go on without her.

The Love Bench

The bench was built as part of a general push to pretty up the area, one of several in the park that were installed by the local council. But it was the only one that had a nice sea view, and that was nestled in bushes that hid it from the rest of the park.

So, as you expected, it was popular with local couples who wanted to, as they say, experiment with enjoying each other's company in public.

Now I'm sure they do enjoy each other, but someone has to clean it up.

Although maybe they also enjoy it.

Fooling Death

Fooling Death actually isn't that hard, assuming it thinks you don't deserve to be removed from this level of existence. All the games, all the tricks, be it playing poker or asking for a candle's length time, as long as you can give it an out, it is fairly easygoing about giving you more time. Either because of some sense of morality or just making its job easier, I don't know. But yeah, fooling Death is easy.

Fooling Life on the other hand, that's the real challenge. Extending a life is easy. Stopping it beforehand, that's hard.

But not impossible.

Evil Neighbor

The house to the left of mine was a small foreign family, husband and wife, young kid, and a grandma. They were nice enough to my face, but I suspected they were hiding something.

On the right was a loner, always had a baseball cap and sunglasses on when he came out of his house. He got deliveries all day, and sure he had the flag flying in the yard, but I knew that he was dangerous.

So believe me, when the new regime took over, I was more than happy to report them and see them all in chains.2

Well...

I dropped a coin into the well, and waited. After a few long moments, a translucent being drifted up out of it. The wishgranter looked at me quizzically.

"Why wake me up? The last wish was pretty definitive I thought."

I sighed. "Yeah, well, I want to reverse it. You can do that, right?"

An eyebrow raised.

"I can, but why reverse making everyone happy forever?"

"Because I'm sick of being happy!"

"Well then no, I can't help you."

"What, why?"

"If you're not happy, then something more powerful is influencing-"

The more powerful thing then made their presence known.

Click Clack

She could easily have gotten a silent keyboard, if she had to have a physical one rather than the usual light projected type. But the click-clack of the manual keys was essential to her work, she'd claim. She learnt how to code and then hack from her grandfather, and he had a noisy keyboard, see.

Given how she spent her life on the run, always having to be one step ahead, such a nostalgic tchotchke should have been a major disadvantage.

Except people focused on trying to hear her, and the keyboard actually had a light projector in the bottom.

The Witch In The Forest

There was a story about the forest that was told to small children when they were naughty, and to visitors to the town pub when they were drunk. The details were slightly different depending on the narrator, but they all agreed that there was an evil witch in the middle of the forest just waiting to snatch up anyone who wandered into the forest, but especially children left there by parents. She would take them home and cook them up and eat their bones.

Total nonsense of course. She merely used their flesh in her spells to keep her alive.

Dressed To Kill

Her dress was slinky and red, a thin sprinkling of sequins enough to catch the eye, to highlight her curves and the swell of her breasts.

Her shoes were also red, high heeled of course, to those who knew that were obscenely expensive, and to those who didn't they just enhanced the appeal of her legs, encased in pantyhose with a subtle flower design.

Her make up was on point, her eyes smoky, her lips plump and glossy, her cheeks oh so slightly rosy.

The overcoat was plastic, see-through, a natural and obvious match to the daggers in her hands.

Adjusting Day

Every four years, there's a February 29th.

We met on our first February 29th when she started on the 6th floor and I had to process her login privileges.

I asked her out on the second February 29th at the goodbye lunch for Kate, then formerly of the 9th floor.

She proposed to me on our third February 29th, as apparently that's the only day women can propose to men traditionally.

We didn't originally intend to get married on the fourth February 29th, but after we broke off then got back together a couple times, it just worked out well.

Fly Away

One fly buzzing doesn't sound too bad, assuming you're not trying to sleep inside your bedroom along with it. A swarm of them, while naturally louder, you get used to, especially if it's connected to a place, like say the meat packing district. Every time I ride past, the buzzing cacophony starts low, then oh so briefly fills my ears, then fades once more, along with the taste of dead animals in the air and the smell of animals fearing they are soon to be dead in my nostrils.

Comforting, really. Especially compared to the disconcerting lack of it now.

Socky

I found the sock puppet in the attic as I was beginning to go through Grandma's things for the will. It was the only thing in the only box that looked like Grandma had touched it in the last decade. It looked worn out, an eye missing, worn out fur, you could only just tell it was a monkey.

I'm not sure why I put it on, I just felt drawn to it. It's cute, in a way. But anyway, it's not alive or anything.

No, I'm not taking it off and you can't make me, court order or no.

Blade Envy

Ever since we both started out as pikemen, I'd been jealous of his dagger. It was a family heirloom, his grandmother's dagger that had slit a dozen Elven throats when she was an underground agent, or something. All I cared about was that it was exceedingly sharp.

In all our games of dice and cards, I never managed to win it, and he'd know if I stole it.

The day i finally got it was the day the Tree Elves attacked the camp and he sadly took an arrow to the throat.

It mostly killed him, I helped a little.

Code Orders

The takeover was smooth, minimal casualties, only one wing of the building damaged. As the fires were being put out, I approached the vault door with the former base commander following with a few rifles aimed at his back.

I opened the panel, and unlike the button display I was expecting, instead a simple audio input grill sat there. I turned on the former base commander.

"A new system? Talk about timing. But I still need you to open this. Or else you die."

"Death to my enemies."

I ordered them to fire before I noticed that unlocked the vault.

Two Sided Triangle

The issue here was that Ben and Dave were both in love.

Not with each other, that would be fine, modern times and all that.

No, instead they were in love with Susan and Suzie respectively.

That would also be fine, except that was the same woman, just at different points, when she was at work versus when she was at 'work'.

Now that could work, I suppose, except they knew each other, and they were both encouraging each other to pursue the girl of their dreams.

Things came to a head after she got the same grand gesture twice.

The Gift Giver

Almost every dominate culture on almost every planet has a similar myth about the being who came from above, bearing gifts.

The details change, apart from the obvious ones about how the being looks to match the culture's ideal of their species. Sometimes they bring abstract concepts, they bring wisdom or truth. Sometimes the being brings something more practical, weapons, or a food source.

But the one consistent thing about them all is the reasoning. The gift is always to help them become better, for a specific reason, a specific eight words.

"You need to be able to stop humanity."

Timelocked For Safety

The war was neverending. Literally, thanks to the Lightning Bolt Spray that slammed into the Blue Mage's Time Cube, the same twenty-six minutes of war just kept repeating, over and over again.

For those inside, that is. Those outside, life continued on, they mourned their lost sons and daughters and moved on into an era of peace with the area timelocked walled off and forgotten

So much peace and forgetfulness, in fact, that when a new danger arose, they didn't think they could fight it unless they broke the timelock.

They should have chosen the moment before everyone died though.

She Fell

She fell out of the plane after the hole got blown in the side of it, I jumped after her.

She was screaming as she fell, I couldn't hear her.

She had managed to hard arch despite her panic, I dove towards her.

She seemed surprised when I caught up to her, I slammed into her.

She clung to me with seemingly inhuman strength, I began tethering her.

She realised what I was doing, I finished securing her.

She tried to communicate something. I pulled the cord.

She screamed again as the chute took and I fell away from her.

Achilles

The only thing that matched my parents' love of Greek literature was their inability to foresee how hard my life would be with the name Achilles.

Believe me, every possible permutation of joke I've heard, from my struggles with trigonometry at school through the time I broke my foot, everyone seems to think they're the first person to point it out.

I'll admit it made me bitter towards my parents a fair bit, and I didn't speak to them for many years.

But I'm back on speaking terms with them now and this Achilles can heal.

I know, I know.

From The Desk Of Elecdev's CEO

To all staff:

Some memos I love to type, when I get to tell you all that bonuses will be larger than last year or that we got a huge contract, I love those.

Others I hate to have to write, when people leave the company or projects fall through.

But some memos I never thought I'd have to write. I thought, erroneously it seems, that the subject would never have to be brought up. But, here we are.

Effective immediately, all staff are banned from having sexual relations with any electronic device up to and including our new robots.