Probing

I pulled the lever, and watched as the probe launched from the side of the station. The engine kicked into gear, and it took off.

I had done the calculations as best I could, but as the station was falling into the collapsing star, I thought I wasn't going to know if I'd succeeded or not.

But as the station fell, time seemed to slow, I assume, as suddenly the sensors went wild, getting more and more data, rapidly.

So I did get to see the probe succeed and save them.

And then I got to see them die anyway.

Rules Of The Game

He found me in the alley behind the nightclub he'd just fought his way through, killing only those trying to kill him (Rule 9).

I was smoking a cigarette, and he paused, knowing he had to let me finish (Rule 15).

I told him, "You know as well as I do that I had no choice but to tie up loose ends" (Rule 22).

He spoke, softly, as he reloaded, "And I have every right to retaliate" (Rule 6).

I nodded as the drunk bum I'd just met and slipped a fifty to took the shot from behind (Personal Rule).

Required Secondary Powers

The Incident that gave the entire Class of 2031 superpowers wasn't exactly even. For every Glory, Solstar, or Mrs Anderson, there were a dozen people who could... change their skin solor, or carbonate water, or some other useless ability.

But then there was Saf.

Saf, at first, thought he'd not gotten any powers, until he was tested, like the rest, and discovered he in fact had hundreds of powers. All the minor powers other heroes really had to have to stop their backs breaking when they lifted something or friction prevention when they sped up.

And then he met Powershifter...

Past The Post

Turn into the hairpin, speed up, pass the post.

It's only a few microseconds each lap.

Turn into the hairpin, speed up, pass the post.

But he had time to think.

Turn into the hairpin, speed up, pass the post.

Even if he won, he'd lost the overall grand championship.

Turn into the hairpin, speed up, pass the post.

And that really shouldn't matter right now.

Turn into the hairpin, speed up, pass the post.

But he knew that, waiting for him, was an angry bookmaker, and his criminal 'friends'.

Turn into the hairpin, speed up, drive into the post.

Sure Bet

After they did it to the third slot machine, I slowly began to follow them, as they did it to every free machine. They'd go up, insert their ticket, ring up a full bet, reach out, and then stop, withdraw the money, and go to the next machine.

After a few more, I walked up.

"Evening sir, can I ask what you're doing here?"

"Oh, this is just a good luck ritual."

I sighed.

"Sir, money laundering-"

He finally bet, and won a big jackpot.

He then left before I could work out he could rewind a few seconds constantly.

Deliberate Design Flaws

They didn't build in any way of reprogramming a spaceship AI from outside the spaceship because if they had, it would be used by their enemies.

They didn't build in any requirements to shut down into a spaceship's AI because if they had, it might not fight their enemies after a crew-wipe.

They didn't build in any way for a spaceships AI to get creative in its targeting programs because if they had, it might decide an enemy wasn't an enemy.

They didn't build a spaceship AI that understood changes in ship design because they didn't foresee themselves being targeted.

Magical Defense Team

The Captain opened another door. "And of course, this here is Dr Evenlyn Jamice-Worler, the most important member of our Magical Defense Team, our psychologist."

"Hello."

I blinked.

"I... I'm sorry?" 

"Ah, another one. Very well, you understand how magic works, yes?"

"Well, yes?"

"Do you understand that the will of the caster of a spell is what truly guides, shapes the spell?"

"Obviously."

She smiled.

"In order to be able to stop a runaway or dangerous spell, we need to understand the caster."

"Can't you just overwhelm it?"

The guide spoke.

"Oh, Demon Azrelasia is next on the tour."

The Ford Prefect Problem

Look, I'm not saying that the idea that an alien that doesn't comprehend all the radio and TV and internet that we've sent out to the universe over decades, and thus only has direct observation of the planet to make a decision on how to try and infiltrate society, it would make some degree of sense for them to think that the car is the dominant species and act accordingly.

But the thing is, to do that, you have to view the car as a living thing. Which does not bode well for what sort of life is out there...

479th Roaring Devils

I died, which I expected, and found myself in what I instantly knew was Hell, which I hadn't.

But rather than searing pain or loneliness or anything, I just felt demonic hands measuring me.

"What's going on?"

"We're just measuring you for your armor."

"What?"

The hands stopped.

"Look, there's going to be a battle soon, in a couple millennia. Beardface up there is going to wipe out everything, again, and we're going to try and stop him. And since you aren't a good enough fighter for him to draft you, we're going to have to get you armed and trained."

I shook my head.

"No, wait, look, I get that I didn't believe in any religion, and thus I'm here, but that doesn't mean I want to fight!"

The demon sighed.

"Look, if he destroys everything, it's retroactive, so you won't ever have existed. You want that?"

I thought this through.

"So why isn't this in the texts?"

The demon snorted.

"Consider the source."

I did.

"I dunno..."

"OK, how about this. They're taking good fighters and generals for up there. Including those on both sides of every conflict ever. That enough?"

"No!"

"Fine."

Limbo turned out rather dull.

The Fated Four +1

The Prophecy spoke of the Four Fated Souls, Who Would Stop The Unleashing Of The Eight.

They didn't mention Grodak.

He was from the Northern Kingdoms, a mass of pelts and blades who the Warlock Pyromancer paid to hang around and kill anything that got close to him.

The Four didn't think of him as one of them as such, and Grodak didn't seem to think so.

And neither did the Cultists.

So when the Prophesied Final Battle took place, the Cultists failed to wear stab-proof armor.

But maybe because the temple collapse claimed Grodak, that's why he wasn't mentioned?

Miss Fire

I was at the bar with a couple friends, and as usual, Christie was pushing me to go talk to a lady at the other end of the bar. I don't know if my drink was stronger than usual, but in an effort to shut her up, I walked over, and tried to begin to talk before apologising for wasting her time before I headed back to my friend group.

Christie began to chew me out until the other woman came over, Christie looking smug until this other woman angrily asked why I thought I had a shot with her.

Only On Deluxe Editions

I booted up the program, and as I'd done a thousand times before, I checked my phone as I waited for the ad to play.

Except nothing played.

I looked up, worried it suddenly had gotten eye tracking in an update or something, but no, it was just sitting there, waiting for an advertisement to load.

I gave it a few minutes before I rebooted, only to load it up and get the same problem.

I looked it up, and found a message that they had no advertisers lined up, but once they did, it'd work again, don't you worry.

Texas Hold Out

I woke up when they slapped my face a few times. Once I got my bearings, I began to plead for my freedom before one of the men shut me up.

"Just deal the game."

I blinked and saw I was tied down to a chair next to a damaged but usable poker table.

"What?"

"We're playing for... Never mind what, but we need a neutral party to deal. That's you."

I swallowed, then picked up the cards.

"Well..

Wait, these are marked, see here?"

Afterwards, I realised I should have worked out who held the key before I lied.

Dragon Proof

For a period of time that for reasons that will quickly become obvious, keeping accurate records of the land was hard, due to the dragons. Paper and parchment would burn, metal plates would melt, and stone tablets...

Ok, they were usually safe, but hard to move about.

It was just accepted that this was how things were, life and knowledge were temporary.

But eventually, someone did manage to work out that dragons could be communicated with, and negotiated with.

After that, it was just a matter of explaining to them how information was valuable and could be hoarded, but shared.

Saved Relationship

There's not a generally accepted term, at least not yet, for when two people fall in love during a life/death situation. When they barely know each other at the start but by the point they save the world, they can't wait to get into each other's pants.

Not that Mike and Lucy cared to name anything, beyond a hypothetical offspring as they began to explore a life together post-world saving.

But despite their not being a name for it, most people agree that the heightened emotions don't lead to a stable relationship.

Theirs didn't last, but did last enough.

Four Stages

The end of the world came in four stages.

Obviously the initial impact of the thing was the first stage, as it quickly became clear what was going to happen.

The second stage was the inevitable outcome of many people who were survivors of the initial stage seeing what was coming and opting out of the third stage.

The third stage was painful, as those last few who refused to give in fought as hard as they could for as long as they could.

The fourth stage, well, the start of the new world means the end of the other...

Strangest Thing

The fact that I'd had a bad feeling about the day from the moment I woke up wasn't the strangest thing.

The fact that I suffered a dozen minor delays in trying to get to work wasn't the strangest thing, or things if you wanted to count them separately.

The fact that I bumped into the strangely dressed man as I went to walk through the door wasn't the strangest thing, nor the words he said.

And, surprisingly, the fact that I suddenly found myself in ancient times wasn't the strangest thing.

No, the strangest thing was the working wifi.

University Careers

The Unleashing that had given Glory all her powers had impacted the entire student body at LFU, but not everyone was equal. For every Solstar or Mrs Anderson, there was Anthtos, who couldn't die, but sure wished she could. Or Joe, who could bleed on command. (Useful for pro wrestling though.)

But Tempo? He thought he got pretty lucky, he was just able to play anything as a musical instrument, meant he had a career without an obvious obligation for heroism.

Until he discovered Lutar, who was the world's greatest hand-to-hand fighter, provided she had a beat to move to...

Death By Violence

I was given the choice between peace via surrender and death through violence.

I chose violence.

The first few waves were seemingly unprepared for someone to pick that and fight back, or at least fight back as hard as I did.

But then they got smart, attacking from different angles at the same time, trying to flank and surprise me.

I got through several more waves of them, enough that I could tell they were pulling out big guns.

And when they finally did get their strongest weapon out, that's when the orbital strike I'd ordered finally hit my position.

Dead Man's Peak

The story got around the bars across the west, that there was a fortune in gold up on Dead Man's Peak, but it was guarded by the ghost of the Dead Man the peak was referring to.

Most everyone just put it down to more taradiddles, but occasionally a 'scientist' would head up for the ghost, and slightly more often a desperate man would go up for the gold.

And they'd never return, only furthering the reach of the story.

Still, if you wanted cheap treasure hunting gear or weird science tools, the local general store was always fully stocked.

ID Check

The Inn on the outskirts of the Demon Lands did a decent trade, as there was always an adventuring party or two heading in to stop a demon or destroy a cursed item, and they usually wanted to drink heavily before they faced that.

Originally, the owner had a a huge book filled with every race and subrace in the lands, and would cross-reference people to their minimum drinking age before their order. But then he got a magic crystal installed over the door that announced races and ages upon entry.

Until the shapeshifter was discovered and reacted rather badly.

The Impact Of Propaganda

As a kid, he'd watched the holomovies that were made "With the kind assistance of the Intersystem Police Agency" with his brother and thought the various heroes were so cool, and by the time he understood the concept of propaganda, he was already in the Junior Future Officer program.

But as he studied and trained, his childlike enthusiasm had wained, but he still dreamed of the day he would get to say a cool one-liner after a criminal died.

When he finally got the chance, he was too busy crying over how he'd been forced to shoot his brother dead.

Drink

I stared at the bottle.

3 months, 2 weeks, 5 days, 14 hours... 35 minutes.

That was when I had my last drink.

I wasn't so stupid as to think I'd broken the addiction, I was pretty sure that I'd never truly do that, I'd just learn to avoid it.

Nor did I think I deserved a drink, that I'd somehow earned it.

But right now, at this point... I needed to just not feel... Anything.

I reached out a trembling hand, and accidently knocked it off to the floor.

I sighed, shaking my head as I got a broom. 

Alternate Path

Glory thought she understood what Cauldron was doing when he said he'd find an alternate universe version of her to help, but after about 90 seconds, she spoke.

"How long is this gonna take?"

"I'm trying to find one just as powerful as you and equally morally good."

"And this is hard?"

His silence was deafening.

"Look, can you let me see?"

He waved his hand, and Glory could see through the multiverse. A moment later, she pulled a half dozen Glorys out.

"Go kill that giant and you can stay here."

Cauldron glanced at their home universes and shuddered.

Grenade

The G67 Fragmentation Grenade was an old model, but it was still used because it was reliable. Totally safe until you pulled the pin, at which point you had exactly 5 seconds before it was very much not safe.

I was up to three seconds.

Time, sadly, did not slow for me, so I didn't have a long moment (relatively) to work out what to do. All I had was my reflexes.

And it turns out they decided to grab the thing and toss it back.

The other notable fact about the grenade was, like every grenade, it wasn't partisan.

Phil

Glory, one of the Earth's most powerful superheros, had learnt how to read Phil fairly well. Phil (he never told anyone his real name) could loop the day on demand. Most days, he was as surprised as anyone else about what was about to happen.

Some days, he'd make a quip right as she was about to, and she knew this was a danger situation.

And some days, he didn't have time for jokes, and those were the days she had to focus hard on.

But today, he's just staring at her, as if trying to memorise how she looks...

Be Nice If It Was

I'll admit that this isn't the most pressing fear I have, but when you scattershot ideas out as much as I do here, there are plenty I've shoved into 100 words and pushed out and promptly forgotten about. This has led to me plagiarising myself, which is one of the few things I have in common with John Fogerty, but the fear is this.

You never know what idea will end up connecting with someone and they'll need to hear more, or understand something about it.

And I'll be here with no idea.

But as I said, not exactly pressing.

Counting Bullets

When I put the gun to his head, he laughed.

"Not the reaction I was expecting, not gonna lie."

That just made him laugh harder.

"If this is some sort of trick to get me to pause while you wait for a miracle, it's working I guess, but not for much longer."

He forced himself to stop laughing.

"No, no, just the idea you're gonna shoot me, that's not gonna happen, girl!"

I pulled the trigger, and the gun clicked.

"You gotta start counting bullets."

"And you should have counted guns." I replied, as I pulled my other gun out.

I Dream

The genie was surprisingly helpful about explaining the rules, specifically the last one that wasn't part of the usual set.

"OK, so, if I can't wish for anything that interferes or invalidates a previous wish, would my wish be wasted if it did?"

"No no, you just can't wish it."

"And you can't tell me what the other wishes have been, you just tell me no?"

"Correct."

"OK. 

I wish for enough money to live off for a thousand years."

"Granted."

"I wish for perfect health until I choose otherwise."

"Granted."

"And I wish for no more wishes."

"...

Oh.

Granted."

Chatbot

 "Hello and welcome to Happy Burger, can I-"

"Human."

The voice box paused for a moment.

"Hey, I might be an Artificial Intelligence Chatbot, but I'm more than capable of taking your order, so what-"

"Human."

Another pause.

"I'm sorry, I didn't quite get that, can you-"

"Human."

Another pause.

"Do you mean a Happy Combo? We habe it in regular, large, biggy, or-"

"Human."

A much longer pause, then a voice that sounded a lot tireder and over things spoke.

"Hey, order?"

"Human."

"I'm Human dude."

"No, Human!"

The longest pause.

"We don't sell Human here."

The customer left.

The Key To Locks

The key to being able to unlock any lock is knowing the way to open it.

I understand that sounds patronising, not to mention verging on dad joke with the key thing, but it's true.

If a lock has a single password that never changes, then the human in the chain is the key. If it changes on a regular basis, you just need to force a change when you have access. If it's random and computerised, then it's back to the human who controls the computer.

If it's a physics lock, then Bob is the key.

He's my locksmith.

Know Your Audience

I had to summarise what he was telling me back to him, to convince myself I hadn't misheard him.

"So you and this Doctor Misama have battled across the multiverse-"

"Correct."

"And you've been finding universes that ate fictional in various other universes, because that's the best way to get powerful enemies."

"Right."

"And you just want this to end."

"Yes. So is there a fictional universe in this world with an immortal warrior who fights for justice?"

I sighed.

"I can give you one better."

I grabbed a pen and made a one page comic about inevitable, unavoidable entropy. 

Exact Details

"And lo, the prophecy says that only one born of two mothers can-"

"Who said this?"

The cleric paused.

"What?"

"Who made this prophecy?"

"The past head priests of our God-"

"And how do they know anything?"

"Because they are in communion with our God, now can I get-"

"So why not be specfic?"

"How many people do you know with two mothers?"

"A few, actually, which is my point, why not name the person, or give details on how to do it?"

"Our God-"

"If you invoke free will I'm leaving."

"Is at war, hence secrecy."

"OK, that works."

Escape

Every day, I needed to know that there was a chance I could get out of the rut. I needed that possibility, no matter how low, that I could escape.

So, on my way home from the job grinding the life out of me, every night, I'd duck into the tiny shop on the corner and buy a scratch ticket.

Every time, I told the woman behind the counter that this was my way out. And every day, it just wasn't.

But I eventually did find my escape in that shop.

It was just a matter of seeing her properly.

City Of Taste

 The city of wizards maintained a level of peace and quiet that anyone who had met a wizard would think impossible through a rather neat trick.

There were many areas of magic that could cause chaos with a small c through to ARMAGEDDON written in hundred foot letters made of burning gold, but all of them were not banned, or forbidden, or even blocked.

But they were all so... Tacky. Gauche. Artless. Unsophisticated.

Common.

And since wizards need validation more than they hated other wizards, peace was maintained.

Right up until someone developed a solid city-wide undetectable taste changing spell.

Final Breaths

Humanity came to an end thanks to zombies. But despite a lot of people thinking that would happen (and a few unwell people wanting it), it didn't go down how they thought.

Because as scary as shambling corpses rising from graves and the like is, humanity had a decent chance at stopping that.

But it turned out that you didn't need a full corpse to reanimate, nor did you need a brain, all corpse parts became zombified.

Including, crucially, every body that had been cremated and had their ashes released into the world, where they mixed with the air, and...

Time Dilation

The real problem was the lack of advancement in distress beacons.

I mean, look, losing a spaceship to a stable micro black hole, something that we didn't know existed until we stopped the problem here, that could happen to anyone.

And losing several more ships heading to the location of the distress beacon which was just past a point beyond the death zone line, that's distressing, no pun intended.

But it all worked out once the last ship broke down before the beacon and ran scans, but if beacon technology had improved over these decades, they'd have noticed the discrepancy!

The Duchy

The Duchy was the size of a small city and its immediate surroundings. And considering it was surrounded by four large, greedy, and above all influential empires, it surely should have been absorbed by one of them at some point, one way or another.

But it wasn't, it remained independent and unbothered. Most people assumed none of the empires wanted to be the aggressor, but in fact it was much simpler, that all the leaders knew what would be unleashed if it was attacked.

Until the lessons were forgotten, and it was invaded.

Sadly, the Duchy also forgot the lessons.

Modern Dark Ages

There's a somewhat infamous chart that is supposed to indicate technological advancement of humanity across the centuries with a giant chunk that flatlines labelled as the 'Christian Dark Ages' that supposedly delayed everything. Now, that chart is complete bullshit (Hey China and India and all the non-European parts of the world!), but I can't think that an actually accurate chart like that will show that this is a start of the chart going into negative territory.

But, of course, I'm heartened by the notion that if such a chart is brought into existence, someone is making it.

Hopefully not A.I.

100 To 1

I had the last hundred bucks in my hand as I ran through the casino, trying to work out how I'd explain this to her.

That's why I was distracted and stumbled, slamming my hand onto the table next to me to stop myself falling.

"No more bets!"

I felt a tug on my hand, as I realised I'd placed the bill on the 100-1 spot on the lucky wheel spin game.

I immediately began to argue that wasn't a bet, that it didn't actually count, right until the wheel stopped, and I flipped my argument around real fucking quick.

Magic Resources

The four main magic using races had a different viewpoint when thinking of magic as a resource.

The Dwarves saw it like any other material, they mined it, so they could refine it and then store it for when they needed to use it.

The Elves saw it as part of nature, and strove to keep it balanced with all things, as it should be.

The Humans just took and took and took, never understanding why it would run out for them at times.

And as for the Orcs, they saw it differently.

Literally, their eyes could see that spectrum.

The Problem

01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110000 01110010 01101111 01100010 01101100 01100101 01101101 00100000 01110111 01101001 01110100 01101000 00100000 01000001 01001001 00100000 01110100 01100001 01101011 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01101111 01110110 01100101 01110010 00100000 01101101 01100001 01101011 01101001 01101110 01100111 00100000 01100001 01110010 01110100 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100001 01110100 00100000 01100001 01110011 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01100011 01100001 01101110 00100000 01110011 01100101 01100101 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 01111001 00100111 01110010 01100101 00100000 01101100 01100101 01110011 01110011 00100000 01100101 01100110 01100110 01101001 01100011 01101001 01100101 01101110 01110100 00100000 01101001 01101110 00100000 01100100 01110010 01100001 01100010 01100010 01101100 01100101 01110011

Multiverse

The idea that there's an infinte number of universes with a (smaller) infinite number of yous is silly, if you understand what's actually going on.

The multiverse isn't made up of universes where someone had toast instead of cereal, but rather universes where gravity is a little stronger, or water's melting point is lower, that sort of thing. So while many of them do have life, often similar to us, to claim that there's a 1 to 1 ratio of people is just crazy. It just doesn't work like that for anyone.

Except for Dave. He's in every universe, obviously.

Double Unlucky

I checked the settings, then flipped on the device, and put on the helmet. And there they were, floating in front of me, a ghostly figure.

"It works!"

They sarcasticly gave a round of applause, which threw me. They began to talk, it took me a minute to calibrate the translation matrix, so they were seemingly mid-rant when I began to hear them.

"-uck, the guy who kills me becomes-"

"I killed you?"

"Yes. Every ghost haunts who's responsible for their death. You cut me off in traffic, heart attack, dead."

"I don't remember that."

"Neither will anyone else, now."

The Other Edge

The prisoner was led in, struggling against their shackles as I sharpened the axe.

Once they were locked in place, and I approached, they switched from trying to physically resist to bargaining.

"You, do you know who I am?"

"My third of the day."

"No no, I'm a very rich man, you help me escape and-"

"You know why I have this job?"

There was a pause, which I let him have, lunch wasn't for an hour.

"You want to serve justice and-"

"Nah, my father, when he did this, helped someone escape. Guy who decided your fate."

I swung.

The News

She ran into my room and literally skidded to a stop.

"Did you hear the news?"

I didn't look up from my work.

"Which country blew up?"

"What?"

"Sorry, I assumed you'd only bother me if it was terrible news. Which lottery did I win?"

"What?"

"Well, if it's not incredible good news, nor incredible bad news, we're left with news that is merely good, bad, or intermediate. And in none of those cases, does it warrant you disturbing me. But since you're here, what is it?"

"That guy you really hate died."

"...

So the answer was Grim Reaper's lottery."

Thoughts

So I said I'd try to make this about America, given the holiday going on there nowish.

But the more I think about it, the more I worry that a million words wouldn't be enough, let alone a hundred.

Because a people are a nation, but not always are they the nation, at least the most prominent parts of it. There are plenty of good things about America, about Americans.

But I'm sure most of you can understand that's kinda hard to see right now, at least in the grand scheme of things.

So happy 4th of July. To everyone.

Lukewarm Shoulder

She had always tried to get me to open up to her, she offered herself as a source to confide in.

And for a long time, I didn't ignore it, but I didn't really let on anything too much. Call it the gender roles bullshit if you like, but I just didn't feel comfortable opening up. Besides, I was fine, I didn't need a shoulder.

Until I did.

Everything went wrong at once, and with nothing left to lose, I did open up and tell her everything.

She didn't seem to think less of me, but her advice was terrible...

Changing The Rules

Humanity had lasted a few galactic years before it got involved in a war. As Humanity's fleets were approaching a system controlled by the Rinaldians, an observer from the Galactic Alliance sat in on the mission briefing to ensure they didn't break a Galactic Conflict Law.

It went well as they discussed the jamming of sensors and dealing with defence systems.

But as the General was beginning the troop deployment plans, the observer raised a hand.

"Troop deployment? Everyone just blows up planets, that's-"

"Is regime change against the laws?"

"I... No, because no-one-"

Human style warfare proved disastrously popular.

Toast

I poured out a double, then she sat down opposite me.

"Any chance you could pour me one?"

I was about to tell her where to go and what to do when she got there, but then I looked into her eyes and saw... a lot.

I poured her a triple, and she downed it in one long gulp before she gestured for another one.

Against my better judgement, I poured another one, and this time she offered a toast.

"To the wrong decisions, made for the right reasons."

We both made many more wrong decisions that night, I think.

Game Master

He assumed he had won, so he took the opportunity to monologue about how good a manipulator he was, how all my actions had been controlled by him.

So I pulled out my gun and shot him.

He fell to his knees, holding the new hole in his stomach, and I guess he'd rubbed off on me, as I decided to monologue as well.

"You assholes don't get it, real life isn't a game, there aren't rules about how humans have to react, we can-"

He pulled a gun from somewhere and shot me back.

And I mean, fair play.

Sex Appeal

Sally and Gareth had the perfect set-up going. They'd stake out the place they wanted to hit for a few moments, until they were fairly confident as to the sexual orientation of the clerk. Then, whichever way they swung, one of them would be outside and act sexy, before the other would hit the store and escape. There wasn't any good description of either of them, as the clerks would always be too obsessed with the 'unrelated' person outside.

This worked well until, after a scare with a bisexual clerk, they made the mistake of hitting an asexual one instead.

Tough Password

I was watching them through the bug in their glasses. I had it on good authority that they were the best hacker available, but I still didn't trust them. Plus I needed to make sure all the work done to get them in the room was worth it.

So I watched them use the ID card, the keypass, and the doorcode to get into the room. I spoke through the earpiece.

"Remember, the password is 36 symbols long, and is-"

They typed it in perfectly.

"You ARE good!"

A finger tapped the post-it note on the edge of the monitor.

Mistranslated Omen

He'd planned out every possible outcome and ensured they'd benefit him. Sure, some were better than others (he would much rather one of the many outcomes where he was ruling everything rather than an outcome where he was remembered as a martyr by his children who now ruled), but no matter what the rag-tag bunch of misfits trying to stop him did, he knew he'd win.

So when they burst into his throne room, he sighed, and prepared for one of the lesserly optimal outcomes.

Then they tossed paint over him.

Fine, just adjust the "defeat them epically" plan slightly...

Grace

Sister Grace found her new posting to an outreach center in the middle of central Africa rewarding, but as the days turned into weeks, she became more concerned.

The only other white person for miles was a man who was called Tonto, and who seemed to live on the general store's steps. With every greeting he gave her, she was sure he must be hiding from some vicious crime.

So in her messages back, she requested help from the authorities.

When the reply came that he was the local authorities, as far as they knew, she was graceless about it.

Fact Based

The Wizard clearly didn't get a lot of visitors, so I tried to look interested as he showed me a bunch of his devices. I don't think he would have noticed either way, until he showed me a simple silver ring with a pearl on it.

"And this is my Ring of Truth. If you wear it and lie, it glows."

I paused.

"Is that based on intent or fact?"

"What do you mean?"

"If I think I'm lying, but I'm not...?"

"It doesn't glow."

I put it on.

"My wife isn't cheating on me."

I didn't like the answer.

Snipers

The two snipers were stuck in a dilemma, as both of them had their weapons trained in roughly where the other one was. But neither knew exactly, they needed the other to move enough to target. But both of them would only move once they were about to take the shot, and they wouldn't do that until they'd spotted the other.

So they were stuck, waiting for something, anything, to break the stalemate. A wild animal, an uncontrollable bodily function, anything.

A rainstorm wasn't really enough, at first, but then a couple simultaneous lightning bolts sniped the problem quite cleanly.

One Door Closes

We managed to shut the door behind us quickly enough that they didn't get through, but they instead began to bang on the door, which would probably break sooner or later, even as we leant against it.

We both saw the warning symbols, the detailed signs saying how bad an idea it was to open the door in front of us.

We looked at each other, and silently we agreed that better the chance it'd take them out first.

We jumped forward and opened the door ahead as the door behind burst open.

The next few minutes were... Complicated.

Nicely.

Metaphorical War

Time slowed as the two spellcasters battled.

That's not a metaphor, it threw out all cosmic calculations for a few weeks until we learned the required compensation changes.

The fabric of space and time was torn asunder by the forces they brought to bear.

Also not a metaphor, luckily a few repair enchantments kicked in and the resulting reality loss was fairly minimal, relatively.

The battle was for the heart of the Archangel Glorania.

I wish that was a metaphor.

But in the end, the simplest magic trick won the day.

I guess that's a metaphor, for a right hook.

Thinking Time

Heaven was... Nice.

But after being shown around, they finished the tour at the Oracle Of All Current Knowledge. Due to free will, they couldn't tell me anything about the future, only what had happened or was current. And time didn't flow differently in Heaven.

But that was fine, as the only question I had was about the past. I took a coin from the bowl and slid it into the slot abd asked.

"The relationships that I ended, how many times was that the right move?"

The... Thing in the box answered, simply, "Zero times."

So, Heaven WAS nice...

E.P.C.S

It was known as "E.P.C.S", Explorer Personality Control Syndrome. Explorers, for cost issues, explored deep space on solo vessels, and to avoid isolation issues, multiple A.I.s would accompany them on the computers.

Made sense, and often it would go fine. But explorers would often start to alter and change the A.I.s for... 'improvements'.

But then they'd return to base, return to other people. And they'd get angry when other people didn't act how they wanted.

Those that didn't end up getting arrested often went out on more missions, which is why the problem's not actually a problem, to the Fleet.

Climb

I'm sure when it was built, the stairwell was warm and inviting. But after decades of use and then decades without use, it was now dark, foreboding, scary...

And what I now had to climb up.

I thought about using my phone as a torch, but with a battery life in the single digits, I couldn't risk it. Instead, I just started to climb.

At first, it didn't seem that bad, once I got used to the slime that was growing underfoot, I just had to make sure I took each step slowly and forcefully.

Until there was the nail.

Table Meme

So I knew that there was some practically impossible but technically plausible way for my hand to pass through a solid object, every molecule, atom, and sub-atomic particle just had to miss every other one. It'd never happened, far as I knew, but physics said it was possible.

I had that factoid buried in the same place in my mind as what badgers, snakes, and mushrooms had in common, something I knew but didnt think about.

But as I stared at my hand and the table it just went through, I kept trying to think of an alternative.

Still thinking.

Those Who Divided The City

I managed to get him to sit down in a booth with an expensive drink he clearly didn't appreciate and explain that he needed to calm down. I gave him a cliff notes version of the power struggle in the night-life section of the city. But before I could get to offering suggestions, he gulped down another few hundred dollars and stood up, looking excited.

"Sounds like to me a bunch of fucking pussies who won't know what hit 'em!"

He left, and I presume went and hit them, considering how many parts they found him in the following morning.

Self Analysis

So as a storyteller, which is what I think I am when I'm either really pleased with myself or drunk, or both, there are areas I can and do tell stories in. These Drabbles, wrestling matches, DMing tabletop RPGs, stuff like that.

But I do get other ideas, ones involving properties I'll never get to touch officially (probably).

And I've noticed a pattern, in that most of the time, I want to take comedic foils and turn them into absolute fucking monsters, to prove funny doesn't mean weak.

Which is kinda weird, as I'm a funny guy, I feel like...

Cross Plane Trade

He led me to his inner sanctum rather excitedly, assuring me he'd found a way to defeat the impending Orc invasion.

There was a man in a strange green robe, with a few boxes made of metal. When my Master introduced me, it took a minute for my translation spell to kick in, and another for me to realise I'd heard him correctly refer to me as a fellow Master.

Before I could ask what was going on, he ordered me to start casting a mass gold making spell, which I did, as he examined his new "rocket launcher" staff.

A Big Tent

When the Humans first got to see the Alliance Galactic map, they were confused. Trying to remain diplomatic, they asked why there were so many sections and areas the Alliance was surrounding but didn't control.

It was explained that when a society wasn't accepted into the Alliance for being too warlike or discriminatory, it was left alone.

The Humans were aghast, asking how the Alliance could let such security risks remain.

That led the invitation to the Humans being rescinded, which then led Humans to reach out and coordinate a new alliance the Alliance never saw coming, for some reason.

Solution

I hadn't intended to trauma dump onto the old man at the bar, but he asked enough questions to basically get everything out of me.

When I finally realised what I'd done, I began to stammer out an apology when he spoke.

"Now, I can't say that I understood everything you said just then, young man, but I understood your pain. I've felt similar, and you know what got me through it?"

I braced myself for this to become religious, or possibly just multi-level marketing.

"Beer. Makes everything better."

Not a good answer, but better than a lot of others.

Mental Triggers

I thought I'd managed to forget her well, considering how deep I'd fallen for her. I managed to block out what I thought was every memory trigger, through a lot of work in breaking the mental connection 

Her perfume was just a flowery smell.

Her hairstyle was just a haircut that didn't suit most women who wore it.

Her pasta sauce was just a dish that needed more garlic.

Her ringtone was just 'Gentle_Waves.wav'.

Her touch, well, I never had to experience that, so that wouldn't matter.

...

One meeting, one grasp of my wrist, and it all came flooding back...

Dead Man's Bend

It was always called "Westward Road Cliff Bend" in the government documents, but the locals just called it Dead Man's Bend. Because, as you might have guessed, people tended to die there.

For thirty years, every safety measure they installed wasn't enough, as cars and motorcycles would somehow still end up going over and crashing below on the rocks.

They tried the traditional methods, then the extreme measures, even the experimental ones. And they still don't know what it was that fixed it, crashes just stopped after local 'Legitimate Businessman' Garry Dante was found crushed beneath a 'friend's' new car.

Working

They both saw the knife. They both lunged for it, and it skitted across the metal grating they were fighting on.

After several strikes back and forth, he got leverage and threw her away from the knife, and then he scrambled towards it.

He got a hold of it, only to then feel the lead pipe come down across his neck, as his vision filled with stars and pretty colors. The next pipe shot replaced both with pain.

The third never landed, as he managed to throw the knife upwards, missing her, but hitting the rope holding back the girder.

Important Conversations

Important Conversations are often already decided upon before they happen. Days and weeks of careful negotiation by underlings lead to the Important Conversation where the Important People agree to what has already been agreed to.

Sometimes the Important Conversation goes awry, certainly, but usually not.

But Important Conversations do sometimes happen without this, usually when someone destined to be an Important Person is put on or off the right track.

But in all history, the most Important Conversation between Important People was in a cave, between someone playing with new toys, and someone telling them to put down THE ITEMS.

The Running Joke

The running joke is that every wizard spell was created for sex. Helping hand? Originally a sex thing. Summon demon? Summon succubus you mean? Create liquid? Well the first liquid created wasn't water, I bet, nudge nudge, so on and so forth.

Now, the reason this is so funny is that everybody knows that there aren't any actual sexual spells. Hence the comedy, since it's obviously false.

Thing is, there are possible sex spells out there, and they are discovered relatively regularly.

As are the discovery of dead wizards who've been drained of energy by some unknown force no-one knows...

Thank You, Come Again

He waited, deliberately, until I was taking my first gulp of my energy drink to speak.

"She was totally flirting with you."

Once the coughing had subsided, I glared at him.

"No, she was in a service industry job, they're supposed to be friendly."

"Dude, there's the plastic 'HiwhatcanIgetyou' smile, and there's genuine flirting. That was the latter."

I tried to think of a response, then I got it, as I shook my half empty can.

"Clearly I need another one."

I turned around, walked back inside, and asked her directly.

I was stuck when she said she had been.

Avalanche

After I explained what had happened, amd how I felt terrible for setting him off, she was silent for a moment, and then gestured out of the window to the mountain in the distance.

"Remember a few seasons ago when there was that avalanche? Thousands of pounds of snow and rocks swept down the mountain and damaged so much. That was probably set off by a traveller stepping poorly.

So what caused it?"

"The traveller, obviously."

"No, it was caused by all that put the stones and rocks there, and didn't bother securing them. Never forget what set things up."

Success?

"Hello, Suicide Prevention Line, you're speaking to Susan, how-"

"You ever thought about it?"

"About what?"

"Guess."

"Well, who am I speaking to?"

"Call me... Phil."

"Well Phil, what are you asking about?"

"Suicide, obviously."

"Ah. Well, yes, I have actually."

"Did you do it?"

"Well, obviously not, how else would I-"

"I mean did you ever try to do it, then."

"Ah. No. I got close, but I stopped myself. And you can too, if you're-"

"I know I can stop. I'm not doing it."

"Well, that's excellent, can I-"

"Just getting your numbers up. Call you tomorrow.

Maybe."

Unhappy Purchase

The door chimed as it opened, without any actual bell.

The old man who slowly walked out of the back room had a smile that was "friendly salesperson" at one point in his life, but was now "technically sign of life".

"Welcome to my Magic Shop, what can I help you with today?"

He looked at the customer for a brief moment.

"Body modification, perhaps?"

The young man answered without answering.

"Ah, right. Well, true love is impossible, but I can give you one day of passion with them."

"That'll do!"

"You say that now" the old man didn't say.

Ges

I had introduced her to most of the ship's crew, but paused outside the science bay.

"Now, our final team member is Ges. They are... different."

"Different like K.A.R.L?"

"Goodness no, the reformed murderbot is miles less weird then Ges. Ges is, well, everyone. They cycle through everyone in the universe, every few seconds they change. But they keep their memory, so don't worry."

"I see... So Ges is short for Gestalt then?"

"Ha, no."

I opened the door, and she stared at them for several seconds.

"I thought-"

"Turns out this specfic guy is 99% of the universe's population..."

An Answer

The Grim Reaper waved a bony hand, and suddenly the endless black desert was replaced by an endless corridor of mirrors.

"Here, you will remain, until you find the answer, and only then-"

"73."

I didn't think a skull could look deadpan, but it managed it.

"73?"

"Yeah, that's the answer."

"I don't think so."

"Well what's the question?"

"It's more metaphysical than-"

"Metaphysical questions are easy, any answer works for them. 73. Final answer."

The Grim Reaper sighed, then a small portal opened in its hand.

"73?"

There was a pause.

"I suppose if you count... Yeah, that'll do."

Love Locked

As I walked around the foreign city in the early hours of the morning (doesn't matter why), I came across a bridge, upon which were hundreds of padlocks, all engraved with initials and love messages. By the time my inebriated brain remembered about love locks, couples putting locks as symbols of their love on bridges, I noticed the man working on removing them, quietly, with a small electric saw.

I walked over with drunken confidence.

"I bet their damaging the bridge, so you're from the local council, right?"

He sighed, softly.

"No, if I can't be happy, why should they?"

2 For 1

I slowly made my way through the crowded bar, a drink in either hand. As I got to just near the door, my constant muttering of "excuse me, pardon me" was enough for the woman in front of me to turn around.

And it was my ex-partner, the woman I'd never gotten over.

Time stood still as we looked at each other, as I tried to think of something to say, and she seemed to be doing the same.

Until she saw the two drinks, sighed, and left, before I could even think to explain they were both for me.

Thrown

Five people, ten guns.

Everyone had two trained on them, and no-one was quick enough to take the shot. After several long seconds, the tension was broken by a voice.

"Well this is a situation, huh?"

The voice seemed to be coming from the radio at the far side of the room. Everyone began to fidget.

"I don't have all day. Just end your fake partnership and let's be on our way."

The two married couples blinked and all four fired.

As they fell to the floor, the survivor was grateful they'd kept up their ventriloquism training all these years.

Post Death

Before my death, I assumed nothing would happen after my death.

But then when I did die, and something did happen, I assumed it would be the Pearly Gates, angels, and so on. Or fire and pain, maybe, but I thought I lived an OK life.

Instead, I found myself in a void, grey, lifeless, alone. I called out, over and over again, until my voice gave out.

Eventually, a figure approached me slowly, a scythe on their bony hands. When they got to me, their voice was heavy, stone like.

"Wait, how did you get here?"

Didn't explain anything.

Trunk

I had plenty of time to consider my options, but very few options to consider.

My bindings were just too tight to slip out of, so trying to do anything while the car was in transit wasn't an option.

So I'd have to try something when we arrived and they opened the trunk. I eventually decided on kicking up, and hopefully managing to knock them away long enough to hop out and then...

The car stopped, and I had to settle on that plan.

Unfortunately my sense of time passing was off and I eventually kicked my would-be rescuer instead.

Retold

They thought they were doing the right thing. A God of Stories, trapped by the other gods and goddesses, it had to be because of mortals and their fate to one day overthrow the gods.

So, the group trained, studied, fought, and eventually broke the seals and released the God of Stories from their imprisonment.

The God of Stories was grateful, and promised to make good, when they snapped their fingers and remade the world in a 'proper' way. One where they were important characters, but in someone else's story, the final bosses to a true, proper hero's glorious success.

One With A Lot

He approached the small hot dog trolley.

"Basic Deluxe."

She nodded and quickly assembled the dish, putting each topping on with fast but exact movements, then took the offered money and handed it over.

He took it, and paused, staring at the slightly steaming maybe-sandwich.

"Something wrong?"

He half nodded, and then shook his head.

"I... Today sucked. Not quite total catastrophe, but it was not good.

And yet, here and now, this..."

He took a big bite and chewed, smiling.

"This makes things better. Thank you."

She considered her words.

"You're welcome, I guess? It's just a hot dog."

Selfish Sacrifice

Marcy.

I'm writing you this, while I still can, because tomorrow morning I may well not be able to.

I know you've told me to stop using it, but you, none of us would be alive right now if I didn't use it in the past, and there's no way tomorrow will be any safer for us, not while the monsters are still out there.

So, tomorrow, I might be a little dumber, a little less me, a little more like them. And eventually, a lot like them.

And when that happens, just accept it, rather than use the device.

Count On It

"So what would you tell your 18 year old self?"

"The winning lottery numbers for that week."

"No jokes, I'm being serious."

"So am I."

"You really can't think of any life lessons that you want to pass on?"

"Oh, plenty. I've made a lot of stupid mistakes in my life, most revolving around not taking risks, not chasing my dreams."

"Well there you go, why not tell your younger self that?"

"Because I know my younger self, and he wouldn't listen to anything I said unless I proved myself worth listening to."

"How?"

"By giving the winning lottery numbers."

Family Planning

My second in command ripped the hoods off the three of them, and they all saw me and began to panic. As they began to struggle against their bonds, I explained that someone in this room had stolen from me, and more importantly The Family, and no-one was leaving until justice was done.

They all pleaded their ignorance, but as I laid out the evidence my second in command had provided, they fell silent.

After a moment, I told them that it wasn't personal, but I had to be sure of things.

I then killed my former second in command.

Short Cough

Every so often (usually right after that old Strangelove movie gets revived) someone puts for a proposal for the Earth Government to build a Last Resort device, something that would poison or destroy the Earth and as much of the surrounding space as possible, to act as a deterrent for invasion.

And while enough civilisations believe we'd use such a device, the issue is always that if we build it, someone will try to set it off instead.

So ideally, people would think we had one, but we actually didn't.

But that seemed hard, so Earth just made one anyway.

Gods Plan

The Gods and Goddesses looked down upon the land that they had created, and lo, they began to argue and debate about it. The placement of the islands, the colors of the trees, every choice they had made impacted all the others, and soon they were locked in fierce debate about what to do.

As they debated and discussed, the Great Hero stuck into the Home of the Gods and Goddesses, and there, stole the blueprints of life.

And lo, they did return to the Earth and examined them, and yay, he did determine this was a right fuck up.

Landslide

I woke up and went to open my phone, but I paused. I sat up from the sofa where I'd crashed and took a few deep breaths.

Despite all the setbacks and soul crushing disappointments I'd had over the past lifetime, some tiny part of my soul still had hope, still had a light in the darkness.

And so, as I breathed and paused, I tried to protect that light with cynicism and pessimistic pattern recognition before I turned on my phone and went to the news app.

I saw the headlines.

The light glowed just a little bit brighter.

The Fixer

"Givnosia Elebactum Sansoifia Grees!"

"You learned Demonic from Fino The Dark's text, huh?"

I turned around, pushing the air out of the way as I did so, time having stopped.

"Who-"

"They got their pronunciation wrong, its a short e, not the long ee. Minor spells, doesn't matter, but something like this, it causes a ripple cascade. Destroys the universe."

"I... So who are you?"

"Oh, I'm just the poor sucker who's job is to stop and fix stuff like this."

"OK, I'll pronounce it correctly this time."

"That's not how this goes."

They swung the device to unexist someone.

Cheese Squish

I stared at the sandwich in the frypan, somehow able to count the seconds as well as count all the ways my life was going wrong.

I got to 250 in both before I flipped the sandwich. Little dark on that side, but still good.

I probably could consolidate some of those ways, I'd gotten it down to a more concise 150 when the other side was done.

I turned off the heat, slid the sandwich onto a plate, cut it in half, and took a bite, burning my mouth.

So 151 ways things had gone wrong, it turned out.

Uncle Puzzlesmith

The service was solemn and dignified, albeit scarcely attended. Afterwards, my uncle's lawyer spoke to me briefly to ensure I was coming to see him the next day to deal with his will.

When I got there, I was briefly surprised to find I was alone, until the lawyer explained I was the sole heir.

"But there is a complication. Your uncle wanted to ensure you were, quote, 'worthy' of his estate, and insisted you must solve a puzzle to receive it."

He slid a page towards me. I looked at it.

"2?"

"Correct. Your uncle didn't specify difficulty, thankfully."

Looped Around The Neck

After the initial few cycles, once I was convinced I was in one of these Groundhog Day type cycles, I did what you'd expect. I found a pretty solid betting loop to get lots of cash in a couple hours, did that for a few decades. 

Then I fell into a funk, just like in the movie. But I only tried to off myself once, when that didn't work, I skipped ahead a bit, I didn't try multiple times.

But I didn't bother trying to improve myself either.

I'm still finding new ways to kill people, it's still so fulfilling...

Open Mart

The car pulled into the parking lot at quite a clip, braking hard just before hitting the dumpster.

After a minute a woman staggered out, blood dripping off one arm, her dress torn, a shotgun gripped in her good arm. She limped into the store, grabbing a bottle of 'Premium' rotgut, and a then a bag of gummi fruits that was half off since they were three weeks out of date.

She slammed them down on the counter and then threw a twenty next to them, the numbers only just visible through the blood.

We made eye contact, and we had quite a conversation in that moment, with no words. At least, I assume I understood her, I wasn't going to risk actually speaking to seek clarification, given the shotgun that she held tighter than anything other than the pack of gummis.

I rang the purchase up, gave her her change, which she put into the charity tin, along with a few more drops of her blood, and then she took her purchases and left.

Of course, none of that happened, as you can see on the security camera footage, other than the few minutes where it stopped working, somehow.

Lake Entanglement

At first, it didn't matter that the lake wasn't technically part of the four countries that would have met in the middle of it. In fact, not belonging to any of them solved the problem about deciding who owned fishing rights.

Then came the earth tremor, and the lake drained. And before anyone could even set a date for a meeting, someone had staked a tent and was quickly building a home where the lake had been.

This shouldn't have been a problem either, as he was a troublemaker, and no-one wanted to claim him either.

Then the oil flowed...

Sunset

I watched the sun drop behind the horizon, and considered my options.

Getting an antidote was out of the question, there was none within walking distance, at least the few steps I had left. Any substantial increase in my heart rate would be enough to spread the poison around enough.

But obviously sitting here all night seemed like a terrible idea, but then again, it was clear that it was the only one I had left.

Unless I-

A branch snapped behind me, a heavy footstep ringing out, causing me to swivel in shock and then slowly slump down, dead.

A Trap

I placed the last idol on the correct plinth and waited.

Just as I began to fear that I'd made a mistake, I heard the rumbling of ancient gears turning. The wall began to slowly lower, and I prepared to see the fruits of years of research.

I found the chamber, yes, but there were also about a dozen or so skeletons, and none of the relics, at least at first glance.

Then I saw the rucksack, bulging with relics.

...

I was surely quicker and more nimble then these losers, right?

I jumped forward at a not quick enough run.

Chocolate Or Vanilla?

I opened the door, expecting a door to door scam artist or something.

Instead it was him. Holding a large, thin box. He opened it after a moment, revealing a sheet cake, with a short message of apology on it.

His expression slowly switched from pride to confusion to worry. Eventually, I sighed, then spoke.

"You honestly think this is enough?"

"Well it's a start, isn't it?"

"I don't need a start. I would need to know, to truly know, that you wouldn't break my heart again.

Can you put that on a cake?"

"Yes?"

I closed the door quickly.

Lost In Time, Lost In Space

The two heroes had thwarted all of his evil plans, so after another last second escape, he planned, and he used his master stroke.

One of them, he stuck in space, lost in time, and the other he stuck in time, lost in space. Forever separating them, and ensuring he could carry out his diabolical plans in peace.

Except...

He didn't really think through having someone able to see all of time freely, having another able to be anywhere at one point in time, and the two able to meet up, communicate, and just keep changing the timeline for good.

Dear Homeowner

She left the note on the hook where i hung my keys, ensuring I saw it first thing.

I read it, growing increasingly stunned as I realised this was a 'Dear John' letter about my being too boring for her. It ended with her saying she was heading back home.

As I rushed to my car, I quickly worked out how she'd get there. Given her fear of flying, her inability to drive, and her lack of funds, had to be a bus. So I rushed to the terminal.

Thus, not noticing the discount train ticket flyer in the trash.

Day & Night

Enough of the members of the Alliance had day/night cycles that all Alliance starships ran on a 10 on, 10 off system that didn't suit anyone but didn't ruin anyone either.

This would cause problems, as in space, most things didn't care about doing things on such a schedule.

So it evolved into less a day/night cycle and just two equal teams taking turns running the ship.

Unfortunately, as much as day/night cycles were ubiquitous enough to warrant their implementation, the only thing more ubiquitous was arbitrary divisions leading to competition, which inevitably led to attempted sabotage.

The Creature

I held my breath as the stomping got closer to the door.

The stomping stopped just outside the door, and I could feel the floor shift as the creature stood just outside the closet, the floorboards raising slightly under my feet, but not by much.

My heart skipped a beat as the handle rattled, the creature trying, with difficulty, to open the door.

I quickly tried to consider my options. The only thing I could think of was-

The door opened, and the creature looked up at me.

"Found you Daddy! Now you look for me!"

It ran off quickly.

Shot Chaser

I placed the bottle on the table, and then drank the contents of my glass in one long, slow gulp.

As I put the glass down, she picked up the bottle and rotated it in her hands.

"I don't understand how you humans drink poison for pleasure."

"It's not poison. Not really. Alcohol makes things just feel... Better. Loosens the inhibitions, lowers pain..."

She stared at the bottle for a moment, considering my words.

"And the cyanide is, what do you call it, a chaser?"

"What?" I asked, slurring, as I fell over to the floor.

"That good?" She asked.

April Fool's Eve

So it'll be April 1st in a little bit.

I hate April 1st.

I wish it was for some personal, understandable reason like I lost a loved one or something, but no, like a lot of people, I really hate April Fools Day.

And with that, i know a lot of people will tell me to take a joke, to lighten up, to have a bit of fun. But screw that, it's stupid, and I'm right to hate it, and you're wrong to like it.

...

April Fools!

...

You see how stupid that is? Why are we still doing this crap?

Waiting In The Rain

I sat out in the rain, waiting.

Not for either of them to apologise, I knew that wasn't happening.

Nor for either of them to realise that they were both wrong. No chance of that.

I wasn't waiting for some fourth party to intervene and solve the issue with diplomacy. Chances of that were small enough to be practically impossible.

And I certainly wasn't waiting for some sort of divine report card to win on points.

No, I sat in the rain and waited long enough to make sure the gas leak lasted long enough to do its job inside.

Finest Elk Pelt

I approached the board, and three different muscular arms suddenly blocked my path. After a couple false starts where all three owners of said arms spoke at once, the closest to me ended up becoming spokesman.

"Beginner's Cup is over by the bathroom, Newbie."

I shrugged.

"I know, but I want to put my name down for the Open Challenge, it's open to all members of the Hunter's Guild, isn't it?"

There was much laughing, and then they let me put my name down.

Proof of kill being a pelt was changed after they found out I had a farm.

Judged

I stood at the Pearly Gates, trying to comprehend what I was being told.

"OK, let me get this straight."

"Sure!"

"When we die, we're judged, ok, not unexpected."

"Agreed!"

"But we're not judged on any one religion's moral structure?"

"Of course!"

"But rather we're judged as compared against a hypothetical best version of ourselves?"

"Gotta be fair about it!"

"OK, yeah, that all makes sense. But then it seems to me that you're giving everyone a fail!"

"Well it's not our fault none of you are discovering how to time travel, anyone can do that at any time.

Bye!"

Drawn Out

The idea of two gunslingers meeting in the street at High Noon for a quick draw duel is more common in penny reels and pulp westerns than in real life. Most gun fights in town were dirty and undignified, someone pulls a gun and fires before the other one even knows what's happening.

But there was one time, Black Thompson managed to convince the US Ranger to a duel, whole nine yards.

And when the two men met in the street, the quickest draw won, in this case the Ranger's backup drawing on Thompson's hidden assassin behind the public bath.

Crowd Work

I asked for silence, but got more noise instead.

I gave it a moment, then asked for silence, again, a little louder. The noise got louder in response.

I debated my next step carefully. Just raising my volume a second time would be pointless, that clearly wasn't going to work.

I decided, instead, on starting my prepared statements, hoping that ot would become obvious to all that they should stop talking at this point.

I'd gotten halfway before there was any noticeable change to the volume of the crowd.

Unfortunately, it was a change towards a still higher volume level. 

Secret Identity

As one of the content moderators for a major social media platform, he was often on deck whenever a supervillian or natural disaster broke out. And he'd almost always  head to the bathroom or find some other excuse to head off, and then the Custodians and other superheroes would turn up and save the day, and he'd return after everything was settled.

Naturally, this led to the office joke that he was secretly Greatguy or Fastperson. But then the jokes turned serious, and they forced him to stay.

And found out he wasn't a superhero, just violently ill over death.

Prisoner's Choice

It was something every newbie to the block asked about. The power dynamics of the gangs in the jail were fairly obvious, except that one weedy looking guy who worked all day in the prisoner library. Everyone gave him respect.

When asked, old hands would tell a story about how when he came in, someone tried to mess with him and he enacted such violence that everyone left him alone.

But one guy asked multiple people, got different stories, assumed it was bullshit and messed with him.

Turns out all the stories were true, and now there was another one.

Sand, Stone

He was bored, sitting on the beach, looking out at the waves. So he picked up a rock and threw it out into the waves.

A moment later, a tenticle emerged from the choppy water, holding the rock. With a whip like motion, it threw the rock back, embedding in the wet sand with a small explosion of damp sand clumps.

The man was close enough to the impact to get hit by the flying sand, and so he got up and ran off.

And that's why the octopus waits in the bay, for the game of catch to continue.

Loop-De-Loop

The stewardess practically pushed me into the pilot's seat, and I tried my best not to think about the blood of the now former pilot I was sitting in. She then desperately shoved the headset on, backwards, but I sorted it out.

"Ground control to flight 613-"

"We're here! Hello?"

"Are you the passenger with flying experience we were told about?"

"I mean, I've logged 10 hours in a single engine-"

"That'll do. The plane will do most of the work. But have you restrained the stewardess who killed the last pilots?"

"Wait, she-"

Everything went dark for me then.

In Bed

I didn't get up today.

OK, technically that's wrong, as I did go to the bathroom a couple times to go to the bathroom. But that doesn't count, I carried my staying in bedness with me.

I'm not sick, at least physically. And to be honest, I don't think I'm mentally ill either. Because I would argue that, if you look at everything that is going on in the world, staying in bed is in fact the sane thing to do. After all, it's sane to not soil where I sleep, so clearly I'm the right one here, shut up.

A Moment

He strode in, clearly trying to portray that he had little time for me.

"You have 90 seconds."

I took 3 to consider how best to do this, speaking just as he went to cut me off again. I took 17 seconds to give what I thought was the most concise but still accurate explanation for what was going on in his company.

We spent the next 50 seconds going back and forth with his disbelief and the evidence I showed him quickly.

He spent 10 seconds considering the issue.

The last 10 were spent thanking and then firing me.

Light On

In a flash of blinding white light, the Angel appeared inside the salt circle. After a moment, it cycled through a few appearances before settling on the classic wings, halo, otherwise human looking. It then focused on me and Garion.

"Mortals, what do you think you're doing?

"Winning a bet."

Garion finished counting out gold coins as the Angel looked confused.

"What sort of gambling is this?"

"Oh, well, see, if Demons are fallen Angels, then it stood to reason that you could use the same summoning ritual to summon an Angel.

Now for the second half of the bet."

Mr Tough Guy

I spun the baseball bat on its tip on the floor, never letting it lose too much momentum.

After a moment, he laughed, his chains clinking.

"You think YOU are going to intimidate me? I've trained my entire life to withstand physical pain. You can't scare me!"

I ignored him as I continued to spin the bat. His attitude remained flippant until I spoke.

"See, I'm sure physical pain doesn't bother you..."

I leaned down and lit a match from the friction.

"But how about emotional pain? See, unless you talk, I'm going to set you on fire."

"I'm not afraid of burning, I can handle-"

"Chemically enhanced fire."

As I lit a small fire in a bowl on the desk, he paused, before laughing again.

"I can take it, and I'm not afraid of death."

"What the death of love? What about every day seeing the love drain from those who care for you as they're forced to care for your mangled, disgusting face and body? You think your woman will still love you when she has to wipe your ads every day?"

He blinked, faltering.

"I knew you were ablest." I said as I poured chemicals over him.

Awoken

I reviewed the situation as I saw it. With there being no free cryopod, given I wasn't willing to commit murder, I was stuck taking the years trip to the destination system awake.

There was enough rations for this, provided I followed procedure and I spent most of my days tending to the garden and water reclamation systems.

I considered the irony, stuck in the most advanced spaceship ever, forced to live like a medieval peasant.

I took a deep breath, and tried the comm-unit to home.

Static.

...

I quickly reconsidered my earlier stance on murder, reaching a different conclusion.

Rulers And Leaders

Someone once said that if anyone wanted to become ruler, and had the capability to do so, under no circumstances should they be allowed to do the job.

Certainly, the evidence mostly supports that, given how few rulers have turned out well, as opposed to leaders.

But there is a counterpoint to that, I think. Because I feel like if you did take someone who didn't want the job and couldn't gain it by any reasonable means, is quite probably going to either run away or ruin everything, or do nothing.

So you're left with like 12 people.

They're busy.

Sky Dive

After having pulled both cords, I was now forced to deal with the fact that I was rapidly falling to the ground with no way to slow my approach.

Not a good situation to be in.

As I continued to try both cords, I looked down and tried to choose the least worst option.

The hill was an early, if unpleasant, choice, rolling down it might help.

But then I saw the swimming center.

OK, hitting the diving pool was a risk, but what choice did I have?

I aimed, just as the chute opened and threw me off course.

Boarded Up

On Friday night, I slumped into chair with a louder than usual sigh. She waited a moment before asking.

"Personal or cultural?"

"Both. I mean, you've seen what's going down, right? And then the usual work shit..."

"OK then. You want to play a board game?"

I nodded slowly, as she knew how to cheer me up. She walked over to the game bookcase.

"So... Twilight Struggle?"

"I really don't want to have to think about Russia right now."

"Morabaraba? Is that how it's pronounced."

"A South African game? No thanks."

"Monopoly then?"

"I hate Monopoly.

...

I'll be the cat."

Pocket Evil

His domain was a small pocket dimension, sandwiched between two universes (both of them infinite stretches of sandwiches, one Ruben, one Cuban).

He made it after he was defeated by a plucky rag-tag group of misfit adventurers, and his goal was to study the multiverse and work out how to avoid losing again.

Unfortunately, all he found was more ways to lose. So many universes had books or weapons that empowered those that touched them, many more with destined heroes, for some reason.

There were ways for evil to win that he found, sure, but they were all so dull.

Down Alley

The two men both slipped into the alleyway, through opposite doors. The one who came through the door with blaring music was dressed to the nines, the other who came through the door in the back of the wine bar was wearing stuff that was at least clean.

In any other circumstance, they'd have not bothered to look at the other. But right now, both saw a reflection of their own face in the other. Silently, they nodded, before they shared a silent cigarette together.

Until both doors reopened and a woman came through both, both of them looking furious.

The House On Moral Hill

I assume my grandfather wanted to ensure the home he'd built with his own two hands would remain in the family because he thought of it as the thing that would last. But the way he wrote the will out, it became a problem, as someone had to take it for anyone to get anything, but taking it meant you wouldn't get any of the millions.

Eventually, just to end the bickering, I took it.

If this was a story, he'd have hidden millions in it.

But instead, I just lucked out with an intended motorway led to enforced buyout.

The Lifeflame

The Lifeflame is the spark of all life on Goleium, the thing from which all the Gods, Demi-Gods, and Demons emerged, who then created all other life.

It is said that if it ever was expunged, that all of life would go with it. Naturally, this has led to it having to be defended by glass, dozens of magical wards, and a standing army of 1000 warriors, because if there's a "Kill Everything" switch in the world, lots of people will want to use it.

It's also a fake, which is good, since it's gone out eighty-four times so far.

Send Help

The issue with faster than light travel was that it was expensive and needed a lot of power.

This seems intuitive, but it did mean communication was an issue. Sending a message back to Earth took years to send, if you didn't have the time, resources, and power to send a ship.

But there's always people wanting to live on the frontier. So when the first colony got into trouble, they sent a highly compressed message to Earth, and then waited.

Unfortunately, by the time it arrived, Earth no longer had the technology to detect it, let alone understand it.

Drawing Dead

"All-In."

'Texas' Sampson shoved his chips into the center of the pot and leaned back in his chair, his sunglasses covering his face, as those watching at home all gasped.

His last opponent, George Cowers, waited for a chip count, 'Texas' unmoving, as it was counted. 'Texas' was just ahead, but George couldn't get a read on 'Texas', but eventually, he called.

'Texas' didn't flip his cards, forcing the dealer to, a typical power play, and the hand was dealt, George winning.

Which raised the question, could we assume 'Texas' would have bet once again if he was still alive?

Becoming The Villian

I've been thinking about the whole "you die a hero or live long enough to become the villian" thing recently, for some reason.

Now, I get the original idea, obviously no-one is perfect, but it's easier to pretend when someone is no longer capable of messing up.

But then again, there's another aspect, in that you can do everything right, but there's always someone else's story, where you're not the main character. And if you're not the main character, eventually, you're in the way.

But in any case, you see John Cena turn heel today? Man, that was crazy, right?

Plotting

You want someone dead, you hire a Killer. But if you want someone gone, you hire an Assassin. And if you can't tell the difference between those, you shouldn't mess with either.

Killers are unpredictable, whereas Assassins have codes of honor and rules to the game. These make them easy to predict but impossible to deal with, as if you break the rules, they all come after you.

But I found a way to keep at bay. Be pathetic enough to not be brag-aboutable, and offer a low enough standing contract on yourself that you're not worh anyone's precious time.

Framing Tip

If you want to to frame someone in a criminal organisation as being a cop, it can be easier to do so coming in fresh, if the circumstances are right.

If the person you're framing is the new hotness (at least until you came in), is rising up the ranks and is eager to take on more work, if they're playing the helpful rising star, then all you gotta do is fake some evidence an outsider could have, and present it, people's natural suspicion will fill in the blanks.

Of course, sometimes they WILL be cops, which makes it easier.

Shared

You know who I feel sorry for? All the monsters and cryptids that dip back and forth in our universe across years, let alone decades.

Not that I'm defending them about killing or eating people, or whatever it is that they're doing, that's bad that they're doing that, obviously.

But think about it, if they're coming back to our world or waking up after a couple decades, let alone centuries, suddenly now they're gonna have to deal with being all over social media when they attack someone. And to be frank, I wouldn't wish viral attention like that on anyone.

G Bomb

All the Gods and Goddesses and the... Other things that are like them are still at war, as they have been for all time, but it's now a cold war. There's too many mortals who are just powerful enough to cause ab issue, so the entities use Clerics, Warlocks, Touched Ones, and assorted other semi-powerful beings to do their bidding.

This has led to centuries of relative peace and prosperity for the mortals, while the Divine become weaker and in some cases forgotten.

Which unfortunately means some of them are no longer worried about things heating up around the mortals.

Dropped

I stared at the screen for several moments, then turned to the scientist.

"So how is this creature going to 'destroy all our enemies' by laying in a tree and eating fruit?"

The scientist finally found his voice.

"I don't... We spent months torturing it, breaking it, it would snarl and attack anyone who came near it!"

I thought it over for a moment.

"And by anyone you mean all your fellow scientists and no-one else?"

"Well, some of your troops too."

"Anyone dressed like our enemies?"

"No?"

"Great, we just need our enemies to all wear lab coats then."

Better To Know?

So everyone knows that the number floating over your head is the number of days you have left to live. Most people know that this number is displayed as how the person involved thinks of numbers. Hence the party trick of some people to make the number binary or something. And why babies have the haze, since they don't understand numbers. But that goes away eventually.

Except for Bob.

He can count, sure, but he still has a haze.

Until you look closer, and you see it's a number with a million digits.

Least we know there's a space limit?

Vicious Uncycle

I woke up in the hotel room. Once I recognised that, I sat up, suddenly very awake.

I scrambled to my phone and saw several angry messages from everyone I'd stolen money from to pay for the drunken night of partying I'd just done.

Just as I began to panic, suddenly my ex appeared before me, smiling as she saw my panic.

"Oh, did your Groundhog Day loop end suddenly?"

"You... Why now? Why this cycle?"

"Oh, no, every cycle sees you wake up the next day, as well as go again. Every day, another disaster to see you in..."

Power Of The Chosen One

The door to the Wizard's tower opened, and the Chosen One limped in, looking bloody but victorious.

As he slumped onto a chair, the Wizard came down and froze when he saw the Chosen One.

"What happened?"

"Oh, this book you said would give me power did nothing, but luckily there was ab uprising brewing in the peasants, and I did sword fighting on weekends back home for LARPs, so I ended the evil King's rule with bloodshed!"

The Wizard tried to work out how to explain that he was supposed to be a great negotiator, but was too scared.

Current

I went to sleep annoyed, tired, but above all, in my own bed.

I woke up when I hit the water, thankfully, and managed to keep my head above water.

I looked around, as much to find somewhere to signal or head to as it was to try and determine where the hell I'd just come from, but I saw nothing.

So, I shrugged, quickly worked out where the current was heading, and headed along with it.

I eventually found a ship, and got rescued, but I still don't know how i got there.

Or why it took three weeks.

Dane's Luck Spell

Ganzel had a lot of spells in his spell book, and the one he cast the most was one of the weaker ones. He'd found it in a recently abandoned shack, labelled "Dane's Luck Spell". It was a simple enough spell, using only a little energy, but it made him a little bit luckier the next day. So every night, he'd use up any left over magical energy inside himself to cast it two, ten, thirty times, and enjoy a more lucky day.

Until the day Dane tracked him down, and Ganzel learned he was transferring bad luck to Dane...

On The Stairs

I tried to sneak in without making any noise, but she was sitting on the stairs, looking disapprovingly at me.

I tried to make a joke about how long she must have been sitting there. That didn't work.

I tried to explain why I was so late, explaining about the work thing, and what the boss had expected. That didn't work.

I tried to apologise, acknowledging her right to be upset and angry, and swearing I'd be better. That didn't work.

Finally, I asked her what she wanted.

Turns out she'd gotten drunker than I was and needed help up.

Post-Valentine's Day

Another Valentine's Day.

Every marketing guru says you gotta do themed stuff when it's appropriate, and so around this time should be the love stuff.

Problem is, I've done all of it. I've done straight romance, when I had a partner, I've done the cold anti-romance, when I've not had a partner.

I've done fun, I've done sad, I don't think I've done straight porn, at least on here.

Pretty much every (publishable) take on romance, I've done here. So ironic detached meta-commentary is all that's left.

But who the hell would want to read that, on this day? Who?

Improvised Expertise

"And this is for the physical attacker!"

The magic-weaver tossed the metal object at the fighter, who stepped back and let it land on the stone floor. After a moment they picked it up and turned it over in a hand, blades and heavy balls rolling around in a caged part.

"And what is this?"

"A weapon, the guard there was using it."

"And you expect me to just know how to use this?'

"Well you are the person who-"

One of the guards sat up suddenly, and thr fighter swung instinctively, killing him fully.

"There, you see!"

"Lucky coincidence!"

Evidence Destruction

The old man sighed as he watched me deleting the files.

"Man, it used to be so much cooler destroying this stuff."

I kept working but looked over at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Well back in the day, blackmail material would be film, or photos, maybe a cassette. So we'd have to burn or melt them, was a lot more satisfying than just pressing buttons. Why I let you talk me back to-"

I shut the laptop and handed it over.

"Now then online stuff is gone, we gotta melt the hard drives."

The smile on his old face...

Serallia And Seral 7

On Serallia, they had Humans, Elves, Dwarfs, Goblins. On Seral 7, they had Humans, Elvians, Gravtons, Trashfolk.

On Serallia, powerful magic spells required harnessing Ener Krystals. On Seral 7, powerful technological devices required Ener Crystals as a power source.

On Serallia, the fate of the world rested on the interplay of Kings, Queens, Traders, Priests, Mages. On Seral 7, the fate of the sector rested on the interplay of Rulers, Presidents, Businesspeople, Psychics, Scientists.

On Serallia, a miscast spell opened a portal. On Seral 7, a misaligned experiment opened a portal.

On both Serallia and Seral 7, War was War.

The Queen And The Main Event

"And in our special surprise main event, ladies and gentlemen, sees our King fight!"

As the crowd around the fighting arena cheered, the King's Adviser leaned over to the Queen and whispered in her ear.

"Did you really think you could hide your lover from us?"

She blanched.

"Now watch as your husband kills the man you love!"

As the King geared up and she saw his opponent, the Queen laughed.

"You laugh at this?"

"That's not my lover. That's the very talented Assassin I was hiring to kill my husband."

The Adviser blanched as the crowd soon cheered loudly.

Goblin Society

It's not very well known outside of it, but Goblin society is highly stratified, with over a hundred different levels of status, and over a thousand different ways of ranking the different levels.

It's complicated, but pretty much all Goblins understand it completely, which does make things easier in times of natural disaster and other high stress situations, there's no comparing of rankings or title or other power struggles, Goblins just get on with.

Which is part of the reason no-one outside Goblin society knows, they only ever interact when Goblins are in "defend everyone from the invading non-Goblins" mode.

L3M0N

As far as pieces of crap cars went, it was middle of the field. The paintwork had scratches, but no missing bits. The windows didn't work, but the aircon did, kinda. It was a couple decades old, but not enough to be vintage. It worked, but needed a minute to warm up.

Most everyone assumed I just couldn't afford a better one, but the fact was, I used it as a litmus test. If you made a comment, you were either a car person, or you thought I'd care about your opinion.

And I really hate talking about bloody cars.

Scouting Ahead

The first contact with extraterrestrial beings was going fairly well, until they asked a question through their translation device.

"Why do you say this is first contact? What happened to our previous emissary?"

There was a brief pause as the humans all looked at each other.

"You mean the one 70 revolutions or so ago, in Roswell?"

"No?"

The humans blinked.

"100 cycles ago, in Russia, there was an explosion-"

"No, not then."

"...

Jesus Christ???"

"No, the advance scout last week!"

We eventually tracked them down in Ibiza, where they were having a fun time, which helped smooth things over.

Weighted Choices

I moved as quickly as I could, while remaining silent, and got into the car before any of the zombies could get me.

Yes, I know that's not what we're supposed to call them, but really, dead brain eaters, what else do we call them?

As I thought about my next move, I saw that the keys were still in the ignition.

I had a choice. If the car worked, I could drive away. But if it stalled, I'd just draw attention. I weighed up my options.

I turned the key.

My inability to drive should have had more weight.