Dice Hoard

He walked into my store with a small box under his arm.

"This is the place with the gaming guy right?"

I sighed. Ever since my appearance on that pawn shop 'reality' show where they made me out to be some sort of super genius and dedicated trader in gaming history, every old gamer has tried to sell me their 2nd edition rulebooks for inflated prices.

"What do you have?"

He opened the box.

"Oh, I have some D20s, really old ones."

I rolled my eyes.

"Not interested."

He left.

Later on, I saw ancient Egyptian dice being auctioned off. 

The Thing With The Head Priest

Everyone knew about the thing with the Head Priest, and adapted to deal with it.

While he was of course treated with nothing but respect and honor, as befitted a man of his stature and position, people made sure things occured in a certain way.

Young people were never left alone with them, their mail was checked by the Incense Master, every week during absolutions his quarters were searched, and certain comments and jokes were to be politely ignored and let slide.

Only because, well, everyone knew about the thing with the Head Priest.

All except the God involved, apparently.

No Choice

I was presented with my choices by the Royal Adviser. After studying them for a moment, I looked at him.

"Adviser, help me understand something."

"Of course, your majesty!"

"Well, I have 5 options here, yes?"

"Yes indeed your majesty, quite plentiful!"

"Except doing nothing and waiting for further developments are the same thing, and invading either of our neighbouring kingdoms is clearly suicidal."

"Masterfully spotted, your majesty!"

"So essentially I can do nothing, or pay for spies under your direct employ and control, in such a way as to not allow for oversight?"

I sipped my poisoned wine, stupidly. 

DJ Discretion

I made it clear whenever anyone booked me, I didn't care what the gig was. As long as you paid, I'd turn up, play dance music for the time with my equipment, and leave. You so much as tell me it's a birthday, I won't take the job.

Now, one might think that this meant I worked a lot of gigs for horrible people or flat out criminals, or maybe that I actually played few of those, and instead played gigs for people wanting to hire the criminal DJ.

I wouldn't know, because no-one tells me anything about the gigs.

Futile

The Dark King Of Shadows laughed as we circled each other, weapons drawn.

"Even if you defeat me, you can't run this world, what will you do?"

He misunderstood the look of confusion on my face.

"Yes, you see now the futility in-"

"No, that's not it. I'm confused as to how that's meant to be a threat or make me worry."

"Well obviously you fool, you can't stop this world from falling, so-"

"Maybe, maybe not. But I can stop you, so I'll do that."

I swung, we fought, I won, and I let others battle the other problems.

Stick It To Them

I was just having a coffee sitting outside the cafe, when the two cars suddenly collided head on. They were both going fast, and the resulting crash saw them both spinning around multiple times.

Both the drivers were out cold and injured, and no-one else was around. As I called 911, I saw how one car had stickers about abortion and state rights, while the other one had stickers on similar topics, just the opposite viewpoint.

So naturally, when I was asked, I made sure to be honest and inform the insurance companies how one of them was wholly responsible. 

Gray Hatter Hacker

I hacked into the mainframe with a spoof login authorisation loop, and then began to look for the files I was hired to steal.

But then I found stuff that was much more important. The client just wanted proof the CFO was fucking his secretary. But these files were proof of the company's corruption and illegal practices, enough that even I thought was over the line.

But I couldn't take both, without getting found out. Did I do the right thing, or the profitable thing?

Go visit a news website, you tell me.

You didn't see anything? There's your answer.

Another Year

It was my birthday today.

I've been thinking about what I want to say, all day. And to be honest, nothing is coming to mind.

Like, I get that it's ok to have no ideas, I often have no ideas for this blog, and I just throw together something based on whatever media I just consumed.

But this is my birthday, and I should have something to say! Something about what I've learnt in the past year!

And I have nothing.

Well, I guess nothing beyond the march towards disaster we're all heading towards, but you know all that already.

"I Quit"

I hit submit on the file, watched it upload, and then took a deep breath.

And my phone buzzed.

I checked, assuming it was a message to confirm I'd submitted.

Instead, it was a message from my boss.

"Hey, you started on that graph analysis yet?"

I stared at it for a moment, then typed a 1000 word reply about how I'd just finished the task that had taken 3 months of near constant work, and how maybe I could have a moment to decompress.

But after I removed all the swear words, I reduced it to just two words.

The F.N.G. 3000

It was my last day, and I was training my replacement. After I finished explaining how to use the machine's complicated controls, he pointed to the control board.

"Wait, wait, why do you spend all this time adjusting these dials, the machine has a self-adjusting setting here!"

I looked around, then spoke quietly to him.

"Yeah, and you use that while you goof off. Then you say you get things done slightly faster than I did, everyone wins!"

"Or I could be honest about the time and get an award!"

It's a shame he fell into the gears and died.

Turing-Xian Scale

The AI was a 0.6 on the Turing-Xian Scale, and shouldn't have posed a problem. My ID was good enough, and it would comprehend my explanation for the discrepancies.

But after I submitted it, it just flat out rejected it. I needed to get inside, so I tried again.

Rejected again.

I was slightly frustrated, when I did a dirty splice in and checked the debug mode.

And then I found the overdue licencing agreement, and how the company they rented the AI from had a intelligence choke on until they paid.

Their saving $50K stopped me draining them dry...

Teachable

When they teach the start of the Empire, they talk about the brave crewmen and women of the Starship Starshine, who landed on the planet a thousand years ago.

They don't talk about how they were exiled from their homeworld.

They teach about the struggles of the first years, how they had to tame the aggressive alien world.

They don't talk about there being a native population.

And they teach that the Dartmon Alliance attacked first, and the Empire was born of necessity.

They don't talk about the spycraft we did first.

Because none of that bad stuff happened, obviously.

Wing G

The old man led me through the rows and rows of shelves, each full of scrolls, books, and various other forms of record, all clearly labelled and in a particular place.

"Here in the Bestiary, we have records on every Beast that has ever walked, swum, flown, or otherwise existed on this plane of existence. Records on their history, their types, notable examples, and such. Now, most people are familar with our Human Wing, but-"

"I'm only interested in this section."

I walked over to the Gods section.

Later, I realised the Gods wouldn't let their weaknesses be written down...

Action Hero

The only thing stopping me from plunging into the abyss below me were my hands, gripping the edge of the building. I lacked the strength to pull myself up, so instead I was just going to hold on for presumably most of the rest of my life.

And then he appeared above me, shotgun in hand.

"Just hanging out, man?"

I looked up at him.

"It's not enough to kill me, you gotta one-liner me too?"

He chuckled, then pointed the shotgun at me.

I waited, until I realised he wanted me to grab it.

I did, then he fired. 

Painted In A Corner

Through a series of impossible to replicate  occurances, I was able to get authentic materials and canvases (or at least near enough to not be detectable) to make a dozen copies of 'Ladies In Green And Red'.

And I knew a dozen buyers who pay top dollar for the painting without asking questions or showing anyone. So it was a perfect set up for a massive profit.

Except for the little problem of making them all think I had it. Stealing it wasn't an option, the security was far too strong.

Headline: "Massive Fire Decimates Smythe Gallery, Priceless Paintings Lost"

Gated Community

I died, apparently.

I found myself before a giant pair of pearly gates, as a figure quickly pulled on a white robe and made sure their wings were straight.

"Greetings, and welcome to-"

"Shouldn't you have a halo?"

The figure blinked then felt over their head before they sighed.

"Look, I'll level with you, this is the first time we've been unable to reincarnate someone, so sorry if we're a little rushed.  We're having to build the expected stuff quickly."

"Wait, what? That means-"

Behind me, the entire population of Earth began to appear.

"Build, FASTER!" The Angel called out. 

Lucky Lighter

We were chasing the bastard when he slammed a door shut behind him, deadbolts locking into place. We looked around desperately before Norm pulled out his lucky lighter and pulled out some wires from the wall, melting them together.

As the wall began to heat up and then melt, I took the opportunity to ask him something that had been bothering me.

"Norm, every time I meet you, your 'lucky lighter is different."

"Oh, well, luck is what you make of it. And besides, sometimes you need to cash in all your luck, or else-"

Then the wall exploded, violently. 

Nuts

My mother's cookies were amazing, and she knew it. So much so that she refused to tell anyone her recipe, which I understood, sure. But I felt that if anyone was going to get the recipe, it was me.

So I had to get creative. Every time she made them, I would ask a question about it, something small, like how she got the chocolate chips to melt like that.

But after a while, I realised she was giving conflicting answers, and I gave up, and told her so.

Then I found the frozen cookie dough wrappers in her trash.

Unlike The Movies

When I took my love home to meet the family, it wasn't like in the movies, where they instantly hated her or totally freaked her out. Instead, there was introductions, and getting to know each other, and it all went well.

And when everyone asked how we met, we went through the story multiple times, about how at the club we both tripped and collided, drinks going everywhere and over both of us, and how we ended up buying each other drinks and talking all night.

We just didn't mention what type of club it was, nor her employment therein.

Barber Chair

I was sweeping up around the chair when she rushed in.

"You still open?"

I glanced at the clock.

"If it's a quick job, maybe."

"Oh yeah, just a shave."

"Sure, ok."

I expected her to call her boyfriend in, or lead a child in. Instead she stepped in and sat down in the chair. I paused.

"You want your face shaved, Miss?"

She shook her head.

"No, get rid of this hair."

I knew that sudden, dramatic hair changes like this were often a sign of deep mental stress.

But I'm just a barber, so I shaved her head.

Fix Up

I first met her when my car broke down and it was towed to her shop. When she asked me what the issue was, I told her, to my knowledge.

She looked it over, and told me to swing by tomorrow and she hoped to have it fixed by then.

When I came by the next day, after some small talk, she admitted she didn't have a solution yet, and to come back tomorrow.

I did, and the next day, at which point we both knew it wasn't about the car anymore.

So she stopped pretending it was still broken.

The Perfect Cup Of Tea

I counted, and there were fifty-eight different parameters in making a cup of tea. I worked them all out, and set up a database, intent on every cup I made involving one difference at a time, as I would adjust things slowly, to find the perfect cup of tea. I knew this was a practically hopeless task, but I hoped to eventually solve the problem before I died.

Instead, I found it after 26 days.

Which, sure, I'm going to have a lot of perfect cups of tea now, but it's still disappointing for some reason I can't quite name.

Disarmed

It had taken the entire squad sacrificing themselves at various points, but finally I was at the bomb that the Crimson Separatists had planted.

I rolled out my kit, and took a breath as I prepared to disarm the bomb. I picked up my screwdriver and looked at the bomb properly.

It was a Z-67 unit.

I dropped the screwdriver.

All this work, all this sacrifice, and it was a bomb I couldn't disarm.

I sighed, as I unscrewed the top. Only choice left was to blow it, and myself, up.

I yanked the wires.

Obviously it was a dud.

At The Hip

Robert and Cynthia were on the vaudeville circuit for 35 years.

They began as The Singing Lovebirds, singing twee love songs to each other.

Eventually, while they kept the name, they switched to the more substantial love songs when they were both clearly not teenagers anymore.

Then they began the Married Masterminds, as they did memorisation tricks, and skits based on finishing each other's sandwiches.

But soon they focused on the skits as they became the Battlin' Couple.

And then they became solo acts.

And yet, surprisingly, across all that time, they shared literally 15 words off stage in total.

Mare Broken

The horses would run across the plains every year, as the snow on the mountains began to melt. And every year, I'd head out and lasso one. Never the stallion at the front, I always aimed to capture a young mare.

I'd break her and take her back to the ranch and train her, clean her up, shoe her, do everything, so by the time summer started, the mare was perfect. 

And then, a few months later, I'd sell her, and start again a few months later, hoping this year my love would return and I could give her gift.

Going Viral

I stood, unmoving, as confetti flew the air around me, the crowd cheering.

After a moment, the host grabbed my shoulder.

"You're our grand champion! Congratulations!"

I nodded, simply. He leaned down and whispered in my ear, sounding angry.

"You need to show some happiness here!"

I turned to them and spoke softly, making sure the microphone didn't pick it up.

"Or, I stay like this and go viral."

The host paused, and then laughed as he went back to acting happy and enthusiastic.

I ended up going viral, but only after it was discovered that I cheated to win.

No Five

After he said it, he held up his hand for a high five.

I stared at it for a moment, then at him.

"You think that was worth a high five?'

He looked confused, even as he kept his hand up.

"Yeah? I mean, it was funny, right?"

I sighed.

"Not really. And I don't want to encourage you."

He lowered his hand slowly.

"Total buzzkill man."

"Well, yes. In this regard at least."

He shook his head.

"You suck."

'That's also something she said.' sprung to my mind, but I wasn't about to say it, high five be dammed.

Lesson Learnt

I asked for a moment of silence, only for someone to laugh and make a joke. As soon as the moment was finished, I stomped out into the assembly.

"Ok, who was that?"

The children all fell silent, before I looked at the troublemaker.

"I don't suppose you know who it was, do you Benjamin?"

Benjamin shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, it was me, Sir."

"And you think it's appropriate to joke about the death of Mr Vanderbilt?"

"Was it true he died as part of the Nazi stand-off on the weekend, Sir?"

"...

That's irrelevant!"

"No it's not, Sir."

Flatpack

The instructions of the flatpack were complicated, what with being in half a dozen languages and seemingly having four different items worth of instructions on it.

But I began to work, pulling it together slowly but surely, making sure every connector was secure as I went. With my laser like focus, I only made a few mistakes and only had to start from scratch once.

But at the end of the day, I finally put together the chair, and then I sat down. As I did, I realised it would be comedic if it collapsed suddenly.

It didn't.

At first.