Lead With Good News

"Soooo, good news-"

"What's the bad news?"

"What?"

"Not a single person starts a sentence about solely good news with that many Os in it. So whatever the bad news is, tell me now, the good can wait."

"Fine, we're heading towards a waterfall."

"YEAH, LEAD WITH THAT FIRST!"

He threw a backhand at me and before I could form a reply he began to paddle furiously, bringing the canoe to the shoreline before breaking it in accidently on rocks.

"OK. Good news?"

"Oh, that I know where we are, and after heading down an easily traversed waterfall we'll arrive."

Kept In Business

I got off my skeleton steed and walked into the printing guild building. I was taken aback when I stepped in, when I was here to place my order for death certificate blanks, there had been two printers printing. Now the room was full of hard working guildmembers, all slaving over their machines.

"Ah, Sir, here!"

One of the clerks called me over, the stack of paper in his hand.

"Rather busy! What, another God change their mind about something?"

"Oh no Sir, a new race has been discovered in the west, so the Legal Drinking Age manuals need updating!"

Stranded Survival

After a few weeks on the island, I'd gotten into something resembling a groove. The giant 'HELP' in stones on the beach was pretty solid, the clear plastic sheet was serving well as a water purifier, and I had a cave to sleep in.

So I could spend my time working on the story I'd have to tell. That the other guy was badly injured from the wreck, he died early on, and gave permission for me to... survive.

I just hoped that the guy I'd eaten and replaced actually had someone else with him on whatever he came from.

Souled

I didn't expect to die, but I really didn't expect to wake up again.

My ability to think through the implications of what this meant for the concept of a soul was limited as I tried to communicate with the obviously medical staff that had awoken me. But when it became clear that they weren't how I remembered humans looking, I refocused and after a few years, we'd reached enough of an understanding that they finally brought me to the ancient (to them) items they needed to understand that they'd brought me back to explain.

"So they're called 'Crocs', see..."

Smoking Jacket

Dr Crazino had his hand over the button that would launch all the nukes that he'd hacked control of, and would use to punish the world.

But he was waiting. He knew Agent Grey was in his base, and wasn't-

"Master!"

Two guards ran in with a smoking jacket between them. That is, a jacket that was on fire, smoking.

"We pulled this out of the incinerator! He must be dead!"

As Dr Crazino yelled and ordered a full base sweep, Agent Grey had already left, reporting he'd bought them 24 hours, and submitting a claim for a new jacket.

Picking Sides

On the car ride home, she was silent for the first few miles before she spoke her mind.

"Why are you different around them?"

"Around who... My friends?"

"Just these friends. Every other time we go out, you're so withdrawn and quiet, but around these guys, and only these guys, you're so talkative."

"I mean... I've known them for years?"

"As opposed to your family?"

"Why is it important?"

"I'm just trying to work out which is the real you."

"Both! Just because I'm different in different situations doesn't make me fake, just multidimensional."

"Show this side more, please."

"No." 

Opening Up

There comes a time when an artist, if you stretch that term to include what I'm doing here, and not just idea laundering for my own sanity, has to begin to get truly honest, raw, and vulnerable.

A time when the artist has to open up and explore something deeply personal about themselves through their art, to tell the world uncomfortable facts to work out their own truth.

And sure, I can always hide behind characters and fantasy situations, but in the end, I gotta open up, truly.

And I will.

In a few drabbles time, probably.

Maybe.

Yeah, maybe...

Last Chance Victory

On top of the mountain, as blood dripped from multiple places on my body, he has his sword drawn, and was watching me carefully, but not moving forward.

"For... over thirty trips around the sun, you have never beaten me. This is your chance. So why are you waiting?"

He sneered.

"Because you'll soon bleed out, and I'll win. Finally."

I laughed.

"No you won't, the archers and spike traps will have beaten me. Not you. Because you can't, not then, not-"

As expected, he lunged forward, setting off the last spike trap, right in his thigh.

One last victory.

To His Credit

I sat back as the cop gave the standard intro for the video recording.

"So, you are Daniel Johnson, yes?"

"I'm A Daniel Johnson, sure."

"And you went to the movies last week on Thursday? 2pm? That new comic book movie?"

I glanced at my lawyer who shrugged.

"Yeah?"

"What you think of it?"

"You brought me in here for a movie review?"

"You mentioned last time you go to the movies alot. So, how was it?"

"It was OK."

"How was the after credit scene?"

"Typical vague BS."

"So there was no after credit scene, so I'm arresting you..."

A Godly Experiment

I've always had this idea of what I'd do if I was suddenly a God, or at least something resembling that level of power.

See, I'd pick a situation that was widely witnessed, lots of people there, maybe broadcast in some way, just lots of witnesses. And then, a crucial moment, I'd have someone basically cast a magic spell, a magic missile from a pointed finger, something like that. And then I'd jump ahead a hundred years.

Would religions have risen? Would it be 'disproven'? Or, just maybe, now everyone can do it?

Everyone left not magic missiled, at least.

Take Your Shots

"But then how did he hang up the phone after he shot himself?"

I froze, staring at the phone on the wall as the police detective continued to blather on, although he knew as well as I did that my attempt to hide the murder was going to be ruined by his blasted logic.

I was about to give up when I decided to take a shot.

"Well, detective, watch this."

I grabbed the phone off the wall and then fell, letting the phone go as I fell.

And it landed, somehow, back on the hook.

So, take your shots.

Not Get What You Don't Want

I found him on the barricade, in the far corner, looking out over the cliff which was unlikely to have any of the creatures attacked from.

"I'm not a leader. What do you think you have to convince me otherwise?"

I waited a moment before I spoke.

"The fact that I know I'm not a leader. Because when I tried before, I failed, and people died.

And that showed me the difference between those who don't want to, and can't.

You can't always not get what you don't want, but if you try, we might just get what we need."

Translation

The first ever alien transmission received by Earth was, unsurprisingly, a big fucking deal, especially given every electronic device seemed to receive it at once.

Translating it quickly became the obsession of most of the planet. But despite lots of different claims, there was no consensus, nor any definitive results. Soon it faded into something worked on by cranks in their spare time.

A few decades later, when Aliens actually arrived and made contact, one of our first questions was what the message was.

They didn't know anything about it, but left rather quickly when we replayed it for them. 

Overdraft

As I got some more of the weak coffee, one of the other patrons of the soup kitchen walked up and began to pour many sugars into his tea.

"You got away from Overdraft Kevin there?" 

I glanced over at the man who'd been telling me his story, interminably.

"Yeah, I mean, it's a hell of a story, but he's not a great storyteller. But still, one overdraft fee spiralling out to ending up here... Hell of a story."

"Yeah, he didn't mention the gambling debts, did he?"

"Considered he owed them to me, I think he's forgotten them himself."

Not A Bar Of It

I kept walking, the bar of gold in my satchel. What I did to get it was... Not something I wanted to discuss. But I was walking to find a place where I could use the bar to buy a new life.

But it had been years since I started to walk, and still hadn't found anything. But I was hopeful that I-

"Hey mister, know where the mountain is?"

I sighed, knowing that that stupid a question meant this was a robbery, so I grabbed the bar and started swinging.

Which was a part of how I got it.

The Rules Of Warfare

When I heard that the opposing army was led by knights, after the misunderstanding about them only fighting by moonlight, I requested to know more about them. I was soon given a book on wartime etiquette and such, which I read quickly.

Upon being told several times that this wasn't a joke, that this was how they acted, I sent a messenger to assure them that while we lacked their obvious breeding, we'd abide by their rules.

When the messenger came back unharmed with a condescending reply, I was very pleased, as I began to plan out my cheating tactics.

The Watcher

Every action has a reaction, but for every action and reaction, they need to be observed.

After all, if unobserved particles may or may not exist, in places that cannot be determined, you can't run a universe without someone there to watch every atom to make sure it doesn't vanish suddenly.

So there exists The Watcher, there to observe every atom, every picosecond, to keep them honest.

So, yes, technically you are under observation at all times. But don't worry. They only care about your atoms, they don't give a fuck about you as a person.

Unless you destroy atoms.

Self Entity

The Entity showed me the slight, random change in my past that differentiated this other universe to my own, and then the categorically better life that other version of me was living.

After a few moments, it seemed to not get the reaction it was expecting.

"Doesn't that make you mad? Angry at that other, luckier you?"

"Not really."

The Entity seemed taken aback, so I continued.

"Hey, he got the lucky break via a broken leg, more power to him. Why should I be angry?"

The Entity left, looking for another of us both that felt like it did.