Cooked

My wife is the head chef of the Washington D.C. Lindel Hotel restaurant..

I take it from your lack of reaction that you're not up to date on your world class dining options. Believe me, her having that role is a huge deal. It's one of the highest profile chef jobs in the world.

And thus, my diet sucks, I eat mostly grilled cheeses and semi-random slow cooker stews. She doesn't have energy to cook here.

And before you say anything, she doesn't let me cook, I do it all wrong. She'd rather eat crap she makes than my cooking.

The Ultimate Spell

It was the most powerful spell I knew. The most powerful spell anyone ever knew. It was my ultimate last resort, the thing I would do only if the alternative was certain death.

I knew what it was supposed to do, but obviously I couldn't test it out.

Until today.

The hired swords were ill-prepared for an ambush. The bastard had a battleaxe to my throat, when I cast the spell.

The universe undid itself, then reran through the past million years over, going slightly differently.

Until I got back to where I was, with a longspear at my throat.

The Wind

The wind blows colder when the sun shines upon blood.

I've seen plenty of battlefields, where all that remains of those willing to lay down their lives for their flag are laid bodies and no flag.

There's a wind that only blows across such places, that chills you to the bone, no matter how you hide from it. A wind that carries upon it the weight of every death caused by generals not on the field, plotting tactics across paper.

I know you the wind well. It follows me everywhere. And I add to it a lot every single day.

Retirement

He walked into my office.

"So I just quit."

I looked up, confusion on my face.

"From the resource committee?"

"From my whole job."

"Why?"

"I've realised that I can't waste my life here pushing papers and sitting in meaningless meetings!"

I considered this.

"And that's fair, but I feel that you're forgetting the whole 'money is required to survive' aspect of society here in your little revelation."

"No no, I've thought it out. I need you to transfer all possible corporate funds to the following account; 4688-"

"What? No!"

"I'll send you half afterwards."

"What was the account number?"

Chopping Down A Mountain

Every day, I climb the mountain.

It was there, after all, and it wasn't like I was busy doing anything else with my time.

It took me 4 hours to get to the top, and 2 and a half to get down, thanks to gravity.

But I was shaving those numbers, every day. Beyond the handholds and hitching points I didn't need to make every time, I took my pickaxe and shovel, and spent that other hour and a half taking down the top.

One day, there won't be a mountain left. And only I'd have ever truly climbed it.

The Database

Every day another few living citizens of Earth that weren't newborns were processed into the Database, their data entered and ran through all past crimes and outstanding issues, to look for matches.

Pretty soon John Smith, presumably not his real name, was the last one left, as he kept running.

But there was only so much rainforest and ocean to hide in, and eventually he was caught, and brought in for processing.

Where, to the surprise of everyone, he came up clean.

The most surprised person was John Smith, he assumed he'd forgotten his crimes.

But so had everyone else.

Form 628-D58

I landed heavily on a pile of papers which scattered about.

"I hope you're going to pick those up!"

I looked over, seeing a small man sitting at a desk, filing paperwork.

"And you are?"

He sighed, not looking up.

"Do you have any idea how many times you would have destroyed the universe if it wasn't for me?"

"Uh, twice?"

He sighed louder.

"Three hundred and sixty-five times! Each one involving a pile of paperwork the size of... the one you just landed on."

"Oh.

Thank you?"

"If you want to thank me-"

"I can't stop-"

"Get a pen."

Party Favor

I met her at a party neither of us were invited to, her on the arm of the guy with the pills, me getting to tag along with the guy bringing the booze.

We got to talking when we mixed up half a yellow and half a blue in with the vodka, until she began to giggle uncontrollably while I stared at holes in my hands.

The next morning, we both silently searched for food, sharing the warm cheese I found and the cold meatballs she found.

I should have taken her up on the offer of a ride home.

Line

"And you ain't gonna tell me what to do!"

"Cut!

Suzie, please deliver the line as written."

The actress grunted with annoyance.

"But she wouldn't say it like that!"

The director grunted with annoyance.

"Why, because that's not in your vision of the character?"

"No, because she's meant to be from the south, and you can't have her lose her accent for no reason!"

"Ok, ok, fine, look, I think we can work out a way forward."

---

The reviewer grunted as they typed their review.

"And Karen Twain's accent seems to come and go randomly throughout the movie without reason."

Safehouse

It was my emergency backup safehouse. It was a small apartment in the inner city, paid for by a recurring trust fund.

If my back was really up against the wall, I would head there to hide and regroup.

I used it three times, each time when I had nothing left and wolves at the door.

I suppose I should be grateful that every time I got close to falling, I was able to get back up again. But at the end of the day, I used that place three times in all.

The fourth time I didn't make it.

Donut, Sword, Hat

There's a joke, or a humorous observation at least, that every culture on Earth has a dumpling, a donut, a sword, and stupid hats. That humans always fry dough, they make a murder stick, and they put on ostentatious headware.

And it's true, but there was always the question, is it only humans, or do all creatures in the universe do the same?

And eventually, when the saucer landed, we got our answer, as the alien came out wearing a huge cylinder on its head, munching on what looked like fried dough, and holding a laser sword.

Which killed everyone.

530.11

I've worked in the library for thirty years. As the caretaker, you understand, not as a librarian.

But even with that, I've still seen first hand a lot of weird asks. Not the kind like "the book I read as a kid with a blue cover and it turned out she was a fairy", although I've seen plenty of those.

But the weirdest was this one guy who kept coming in every few years, looking like he hadn't aged a day, every time, asking for a time machine repair book.

I assume he's just joking. Or it's stuck in forward.

No Beginnings, No Ends

I didn't know where I was going, just that I had to keep moving forward. Pausing meant stopping, and stopping meant an end.

If I kept moving, if I was always in motion, there could never be an end, or a beginning. Just a constant now, never having to worry about where I was going, or where I'd been.

The natural assumption to take, which many did, was that I must be running from something, that something in my past was driving me onwards.

But no. Because in actuality, I know where my story ends.

And I don't want to.

Sarcasm

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Well I'm surprised, so well done!"

"You don't need to be sarcastic."

"You're right. I don't. But I want to be, because it helps me from blowing my lid."

"Why?"

"Why? Are you blind? Do you not see the chaos you've unleashed here?

"No no, I understand that, I'm just curious as to why being sarcastic helps you from blowing your top."

"I...

I don't know. I think it is a matter of...

HEY! You're just trying to distract me from your mistakes!"

"No, not at all!"

"Was that sarcasm?"

"No."

"Was that?"

"Maybe."

"Dammit."

Count Me Down

The explosion tore through the base with a fairly regular pattern. One section would blow up, the heat, debris, and pressure would all flow into the next section. That section would buckle, then break, then explode, repeat.

With a deviation of ten seconds either side, it was taking a minute forty for each section.

So, counting the sections, I was sixteen minutes and forty seconds away from death.

I had no hope of escape, nor of rescue, so I didn't bother. Instead, I put on my favorite album and waited.

I didn't realise the obvious issue till Side B ended.

Hosalia (Blessed Be Her Name)

Like every cleric of Hosalia (blessed be her name), I prayed every night to Hosalia (blessed be her name). And like every cleric, I would be contacted by a angelic messenger of Hosalia (blessed be her name) who would talk to me and empower me.

But after a few years of travelling the ten levels of existence, it got undeniable that Hosalia (blessed be her name) didn't seem to actually exist.

When I finally confronted the angelic messengers, they attacked me, then dragged me before Hosalia (blessed be her name).

Afterwards, I was turned into an angelic messenger of... her.

The Statue

I placed the statue into the acid bath and waited.

A lot of people had died over this statue, from the natives killed as it was, uh, 'discovered', to the various double crosses between thieves that had occured between then and now.

And now, thanks to two treasure hunters trying to cut each other out at the same time via two gunshots, it came into my hands.

But I had to make sure it was what it was supposed to be. Hence the acid bath.

After a few moments, I stirred it.

Given it was empty, I had my answer.

Disappointment

Her parents never approved of us, which I used to joke was why she wanted to marry me. She always denied that.

That had negatives, sure, an entire side of the family not being part of our lives was going to lead to disappointment, no question. But it also had positives, we had less people to worry about disappointing and less presents to buy, less dates to remember. But she always did remember them.

Eventually, when she finally left me to try and win them back, I let her go but told her it wasn't worth it.

She eventually agreed.

A Mistake

I'm sure that you must have plenty of questions. Who am I, where are you, what do I want, is Jackie alive. That about cover it?

Yeah, well, the answers are, in order, doesn't matter, doesn't matter, the combination, and for now, although that depends on how quickly you respond to the third answer. And how you respond matters too.

Oh, come now, you know exactly what combination I mean.

Don't play coy, you know exactly who Jackie is.

You're a good actor, but, if you're not who I think you are, you're dead.

Fine, goodbye.

Clean up room nine!

Choose Wisely

The puzzle sat, undisturbed, for a few hundred years, before someone attempted to solve it.

The invading tribe's scout tried to find a way around it, then ended up having to guess the answer, unable to read the other tribe's text. He chose poorly, and was crushed by a falling stone.

A few hundred years after that, the invading coloniser couldn't read heathen scratchings, and guessed the answer, choosing poorly, and falling into the spike trap.

A few hundred years after that, the archologist discovered it, got the right answer, and was disappointed at the ancient candy bowl reward given.

Catfish

I've had plenty of offers to sell my secret recipe for my fried catfish. And I've refused every one of them.

It's not that I've not needed the money, there's been plenty of times when I really needed the cash.

It's not that I've had some sort of moral issue with selling the recipe, I'm all for people selling their intellectual property.

It's not that I've not had offers, every week it seems, I've got another offer to sell the secret, to big chains and small recipe blogs.

But the problem is that I can't sell "use my old oil".

At Night

 When the night falls upon the land,

The monsters' time is at hand.

They creep out of the darkness, bold,

To find what lives in their hands they hold.

But on this night, a problem arose.

When from the wagon chased, a figure throws.

A ball, it seemed, small, but a heavy load.

Rolled and landed in the middle of the road.

They approached the item, wary and slow,

Until one of them kicked it with a heavy, hairy toe.

The ball began to shake, and there was a rumble,

And then there was a flash PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN...

Interrogation

She was staring at the camera in the corner of the room when I walked in.

"So, let's start at the top. Who hired you?"

"Victor Nox."

I sighed, she kept staring.

"For opening jokes, I've heard better."

"It's not a joke."

"So an internationally renowned assassin who was trying to kill my boss was hired by... my boss. You want to try again?"

"He hired me to try and kill him. You were supposed to stop me. You did.

Congratulations."

"Did he say what was going to happen at this point?"

"No."

"Well, that-"

The camera shot a bullet.

Earworm

There have been plenty of songs that get stuck in people's heads, over the years. But  this was a totally different thing.

Because while other songs would just stick in your head until you heard a different annoyingly catchy song, this one would stick there and not leave, no matter what you did.

It would just play over and over, no matter what you did, driving you mad with it going around and around in your head.

This was obviously not a good thing, don't get me wrong, but all things considered, at least the song was actually pretty good.

Light At The End Of The Tunnel

I had been running through the tunnel for long enough that my lungs were burning, my legs were like lead, but I kept going, I had to keep moving.

And there was a light at the end, drawing me onwards, giving me hope.

But as I moved closer, the light seemed to be growing brighter and larger. And this was because it was a speeding train coming towards me.

As it came closer and closer, at the last second, I threw myself to the side. And I was doubly lucky.

It didn't hit me, and it did hit my pursuer.

Hunting

We sailed down the river lazily. I kept one hand on the tiller and the other held my beer.

As we moved further north, using the currents to drag us, we discussed our plans for when we spotted the location we were heading for.

Bill wanted to set up camp, get a base established, and then start hunting.

Adam wanted to start hunting the escapees immediately, not wanting to give them any more time than what we absolutely had to.

I just wanted to make landfall and go to the bathroom.

The alligator made sure no-one got what they wanted.

Counting

They told me I'd always remember everyone I shot, until you got to triple digits.

At first, I didn't believe them. But then after I'd shot a bunch of people, and could remember every single one of them, I began to believe them.

But then I stopped believing them when I got to triple digits and was still remembering every single one of them, and I couldn't forget a single scream, or a single death.

Once I got to quadruple digits, though, then I did begin to forget. Mainly because I lost track of the numbers, to be truly honest.

Letting Her Go

My heart was torn in two when she dumped me.

My buddies told me to chase her, to not give up and not take this lying down.

But I knew that was wrong.

My family told me to forget her, to let her go and to just move on with my life.

But I knew I couldn't do that.

So I was stuck, knowing that I shouldn't chase her, but also knowing I couldn't let her go. This would lead to a spiral of emotional pain, I knew.

But then her twin sister called me, and so began different problems.

Watching On

The job was the worst type of job. It was vitally important, and required intense focus and perfect action, but only at random and rare times. The tiny portal needed to be watched, with a reinforcement spell cast when it began to grow. Too much casting would lead to the portal snapping wider, hence the need for constant supervision.

The shifts were short, designed to allow for maximum focus. And it worked well for two hundred years.

Of course, after that long, mistakes were due to be made. Just once.

But once was all that could occur, given the results.

Uncovered

As the archaeologists continued to slowly and carefully move the dirt, they were locked in an intense argument.

"I cannot believe you're ignoring the evidence literally laying before you." She hissed.

"One set of weapons does not invalidate my theory, Doctor." He said with a hoarse whisper.

"But it does bring it into question! So why can't I question it?" She replied, her voice low but determined.

"Because it's the reason we are able to be here to find this, so shut up and keep covering it before someone else sees this stuff!"

"You better hope no-one digs into this."