Wish Granted

"I wish for a gold coin that doubles every day, in that I have 2 the next day, 4 the day after that, and-"

The urchin noticed that the Genie had frozen, as had the cave around him, in an eerie green light.

Then a portal opened and a small figure in a black suit stepped through with a clipboard and a pair of half-glasses on a chain.

"Hello. You have attempted to cast or invoke a magic spell that will cause an economic collapse within a few months. What are you intending to spend the money on?'

The urchin blinked and rubbed his head.

"Uh... Food? A bed? Wine? Women, maybe some of that-"

"I see, are there any others you intend to support or use the money on?"

The urchin thought about the other urchins.

"No."

The figure nodded and filled out a scroll.

"So no plans for inter-plane interactions nor major political or magical upheavals?"

"No, man, I just want to live a nice life."

The figure nodded as they continued scrawling in gaps on the scroll.

"Very wise. Sign here."

The urchin, confused, signed.

*********

The rich man was unaware he lost two wishes, technically.

#1 With A Bullet

Humanity was desperate for something that made them stand out amongst the Galactic Community. It wasn't unusual, most races went through it, the desperate need to be the most special and unique in some way.

But try as we might, we couldn't find one. There was always another race stronger, faster, better at art, music, sex, everything. And we were also too much of an outlier to try and claim default status, not that we didn't try hard.

But in the end, we did find one way we were the best.

'Disease incubation' wasn't good for tourism.

But for weapons...

Preventative Measures

Some people save the world by curing disease, or by discovering a great leap forward in science. Me? I save the world by ensuring that there's no evil lurking in the shadows.

After all, if there was a great evil like a vampire house or a werewolf clan or whatever in the shadows, there's no way they'd allow anyone to explain them online. So every day, when I write out a new creature or a variation of one, I prove there's no such actual thing.

Today's one is really nasty too, I'll just open this parcel then I'll get to-

The Boy Scout

He had the reputation for predicting every little thing. No matter what, he had a plan, and a back-up, and a back-up for the back-up, and presumably a back-up for that one too, and so on.

He'd developed that reputation across the years, but the truth was, while he was clever and could do a decent job at predicting stuff, truth is, all he has were a half dozen basic plans and devices he could pull out, and a damn good poker face.

After all, there's only so many ways anyone can shoot at you, right?

Last Night's Conversation

Actual conversation I had (in my head) last night.

*Power goes out*

Me: Huh.

My Brain: Welp, no Drabble tonight.

Me: Wait, what? It's only like 10:30, my phone has a decent amount of battery power left!

My Brain: Nope, no Drabble.

Me: I'm already a few days without one-

My Brain: Well one more won't matter, will it!

Me: No, sorry, I've got nothing else to do but this, this is like perfect storm to focus and do a Drabble! Give me one actually good reason why we shouldn't do one!

My brain: ...It's hot.

Me: ...Fair enough.

Wished Out

The Genie understood the concept of the Internet fairly quickly, but they were quickly blown away once I showed them the message boards dedicated to trying to outsmart wish givers like them and all their tricks.

"So you understand my asking all those questions."

"But... these 'Jackass Genies', they don't exist! We grant wishes as they're requested!"

"And when people are unhappy or it comes at a price or-"

"Humanity's inability to foresee problems or know their desires isn't a fault with us!"

"So you'll treat my wish fair?"

"Granted."

I argued my new hair color was proof of concept.

Simple Sounding Question

She asked me a simple sounding question. 

But how to answer it without a long, complicated answer? How could I possibly tell the truth without explaining about all that came before her, all the pain and the mental scars that had developed because of it. How could I answer what she thought was a simple question honestly without baring everything that I was?

It wasn't possible. So I told her a simple sounding lie.

I sometimes think about where she might be now. I hope she's happy, truly. I'm not, obviously, but I wasn't before, so I'm used to it.

To Be The Best

"Great work team!"

As the kid put his fighting creatures back in their pocket homes, he turned to his defeated foe, still cradling their unconscious bug.

"You do realise you can have multiple fighters, right?"

The kid wasn't sure what came over them to say that, pity maybe, but they weren't prepared for the fury in the gaze they got directed at them.

"You do realise most of us have responsibilities that mean we can't travel around, nor the funds to feed a bunch of different creatures?"

The kid paused.

"Speaking of funds..."

The foe glared, reaching for his wallet.

Velvet

He came inside in a hurry, with the doorguy only letting him by since he was a regular.

'Velvet' was luckily just coming on shift, since the way he approached her, if she had been talking to anyone, they'd have been interrupted quite rudely.

"Hey Steve, how-"

"Was it genuine?"

'Velvet' blinked.

"I'm sorry?"

"Our... What we have. Had. Was it genuine?"

"Oh baby, I-"

"I need the truth. Please."

After a moment, Judy answered.

"I mean, you seem ok, but..."

He nodded, and then walked out.

After she saw the news, she was glad he accepted the truth elsewhere.

Not The Point

The Angel rubbed what I suppose was its temples.

"Ok, I think I understand how you got to Hell, and why Lucy got you to think up new punishments. But go over what happened next again."

"Sure, they gave me the remit to increase the pain generated in overall terms, ideally while also reducing expenditure. And as I explained, the fire and brimstone approach had rapidly diminishing returns, as opposed to the consistent spread of boredom and nothingness."

"Right, but then..."

"Well the lesser demons complained, they weren't having any fun.

So by switching to harvesting from them, production tripled."

Steer Clear

I had stayed alive by warning others of death.

That is, there would be a few small groups a month that would arrive on the island with grand designs to be the ones to final enter the caves and defeat the evil beneath it and claim the treasure. And I'd warn them not to. A few would listen, most wouldn't. A few would cast detection spells on me, thinking I was part of it, most didn't. But I wasn't, I avoided the caves like the plague, nothing to do with me.

I just lived off selling second hand boats, mostly.

Back

Back.

"-and you'll never-"

Jump to the left.

They shoot. They hit.

Back.

"-and you'll never-"

Jump rightwards.

They shoot, they hit.

Back.

"-and you'll never ever-"

Slide.

They shoot, they hit.

Back.

"-and you'll-"

Throw a knife.

They duck, they shoot, they hit.

Back.

"-and you'll never-"

"Can't we-"

"No."

They shoot, they hit.

Back.

"-and you'll never ever stop me, because-"

Turn to walk away.

They shoot, they miss.

I keep walking.

They shoot, they hit.

Sigh.

Back.

"-and you'll never ever stop me, because you're not the only one who can go back, you idiot!"

Wait, what?

No Problem

The Hero looked at the map and shrugged.

"Ok, so I grab the tornado and toss it out into space, easy."

The silence that filled the room was enough to pierce The Hero's self-assurance.

"What, we want it to hit the city?"

"Look, even if you can grab a-"

"Oh I can, anything I want to grab I-"

"Look, you can't just remove energy-"

"Sure I can, watch this!"

They flew off and did it before anyone could stop them.

To their credit, they did help in the clean-up after the entire weather system went haywire after they did it.

The Usual Cliches

"I never meant to hurt you, I-"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Well, no, but-"

"But you want credit for not actively planning on breaking my heart. You want to be sure that since you're not the worst of the worst, that you get some degree of acceptance?"

"I... No, I'm just explaining-"

"I don't need or want an explanation. Unless you're claiming you were drugged or hypnotised or something?"

"Well...

No."

"And that pause tells me everything I had left to ask. Goodbye then."

"Wait, I-"

"This another cliche?"

His silence was all the answer needed.

Regaining Connections

He logged in and clicked on the connect button with all the enthusiasm and vest for life of a piece of roadkill spread across two lanes.

The various AIs and networks all logged in with one of the half dozen phrases they had in their databanks as cheery, personable greetings.

Except one, which just delivered a sad message about needing... Cheese?

He paused mid slurp of Indonesian energy drink and looked into it.

It was connected, data was flowing, but the message section was damaged, and all the flags were wrong.

He deleted the error messages and left it alone.

The Big Fight

For all the prophecy and foretelling about the battle between the Dark Two and the Heroes of Brilliance, none of it was about the battle itself. Admittedly, given none of it addressed the outcome either, people focused on that more than the logistics of the fight.

But of course, all the attempts to prevent or influence the fight just led to it occurring, because predeterminism is gonna predetermine.

And the result, well you're aware.

But as for the actual fight itself?

From the outside, it looked like they just stared at each other a bunch.

But actually... Pretty much that.

Sally Fire

The fire wasn't much, but it kept the worst of the cold away.

As he sat warming his hands, a figure approached from the other side of the flames.

"You the Marshall?"

He stared at the figure as he moved a hand closer to the fire.

"Who's asking?"

The figure moved a little closer, so the Marshall could see their face, and the gun.

"The woman you've been searching for."

"Only to get information about-"

"I ain't seen him in years, you know."

The fire crackled, and the real target behind him almost managed to hide his footstep underneath it.

Intelligent

I woke up lying on part of the ship's hull, floating just off the coast of an island.

As my memories came into focus and I remembered the storm, I suddenly felt something pushing against the wood.

I looked down into the water and saw dolphins, taking turns to push me towards the shore.

By the time I was awake enough to think through what was happening, I saw the figure on the beach, and I was happy.

Until I saw the look in his eyes, and the basket of raw meat in his hand that looked like a reward...

Write Down

"And in the room with Mr Francis is Detective Sergeant Peter Garten and Corporal Robin Michaelson. Now, for the tape, you have been informed of your right to a lawyer and are waiving that right?"

"Well, we're just chatting, right?"

"That's correct! We just want to get a grip on what happened, is all. So why don't you start at the beginning?"

"Ok, well, for the last few years I've been working in the Stonecutter building-"

"On 42nd Street?"

"Yeah, right below the Police Commissioner's offices, and-"

[Note: At this point, the tape malfunctions until after the subject's medical episode.]

Power Ratings

As Glory threw Greyscale into the cell, Entropy (as they'd come to call the cosmic entity) asked a question of her.

"Why do you not swap locations?"

Glory paused as she was reaching for the paperwork.

"What?"

"These enemies you fight here in Los Fransisco, you are evenly matched. If you were in Night City, you could easily overpower those enemies."

"That's Solanaceae's territory."

"But-"

"And this is my home. I don't want to fight somewhere else just because it's easier."

Entropy seemed to consider this while she filled out the paperwork.

She should have glanced at her power scanner.

¶

He opened the door to find the two women he'd been dating standing side by side, looking angry.

In the following twenty minutes, he said fifteen words, eight of them at the start as he began to try to placate them.

The next four were all 'No', said with decreasing confidence as they both asked him pointed questions about his motives.

The next one was pnly technically a word, as it was more of a grunt as he acquiesced to their stated plans.

The final two were simply "I'm sorry", which didn't solve anything, but did prevent further words spoken.

Loophole

The Demon appeared in a burst of flame.

"Who dare summon... Elica?"

The woman was much older than when he signed the contract to cure her disease, but he recognised his love even in his new form.

"Hello, my love. I summoned you, I drew the circle of protection."

He fought against the evil in his body as he looked down at the salt and chalk.

"My darling, it's good, but reversed, I'm protected, not you, not the others."

"Oh I know. It's the only way."

He didn't understand until she began casting the spell to destroy all demons, everywhere.

Post Apocalypse Contact

I walked in after a long day tending the potato field and switched on the computer. After loading things up, they sent me a message.

"Hey man! How you doing?"

After I wiped away some dirt from my hands, I typed out my question slowly.

"Are you real?"

The reply was quick.

"What? Why do you ask?"

I noted they didn't answer as I typed out my explanation.

"Because after the plague, just as I was giving up and was about to off myself, I finally made contact with another living person."

The reply was simple.

"Don't think about it."

Die On Your Feet

The Rebel General was dragged up the steps to where the Prince was waiting, as the Prince held his sword out to be sharpened.

"Kneel."

The Rebel General remained on his feet.

"My troops may be in chains, but they are still behind me. So I will not yield, especially to the likes of you."

The Prince smirked as the blade was to his satisfaction.

"So you'd prefer to die on your feet?"

"If that's my fate."

"Well, you're half right."

The Prince made a big show of laughing, hugging the Rebel General, and walking them inside.

Rumor grew fast.

Ensuring Survival

The ship, one of the last launched before Earth became uninhabitable, had an AI to watch over the cryopods with the humans, since it would take millions of years to arrive at its destination.

But, the designers understood that the AI might not be able to handle every possible situation. So, if needed, it would wake up a couple to handle a crisis, then live out their years and breed, raise their children, and then freeze them.

And indeed, millions of years later, the ship arrived and colonised a new world.

Just by a race not technically human any more.

Management Decision

The hack was a couple minutes in, and I was just getting somewhere when my computer went dead.

I looked up to my boss, looking very pleased with himself, holding the power cord to my computer.

"Hack dealt with."

I slammed a piece of paper in front of him and grabbed the power cord.

"Write down what you just did."

He happily did so, and signed it when I asked him to once I'd finished.

Not that it helped much dealing with the aftermath of losing all that data, but him getting fired did make me feel a bit better.

Market Stalling

"Excuse me, how much is this doll?"

I turned around and looked around, needing a moment before I looked down over my stall to see the young girl with a doll I didn't recognise from my stock.

"I'll need to see it, Miss."

She politely handed it over and quickly looked it over. I couldn't find a price label on it anywhere.

"Umm... Five dollars."

"Oh I can't afford that, sorry."

She walked away.

Now, I would argue that doesn't constitute a legal transfer of property, but the ghosts inside it clearly don't actually care about legal definitions of words.

Called In

I had mentioned my friend Paul was feeling a little lonely in passing. She immediately suggested a double date with her friend Bridgette.

I guess I stared at her for too long because she seemed a little miffed when she asked me for an answer.

"You understand I'm talking about Paul, right?"

"Yeah, he needs a bit of spontaneity in his life."

"That's like thinking the room is a little stuffy so let's set off a nuke. And what could she see in him?"

She mentioned a particular body part.

They're getting married in August.

I give them till November.

Contact [Meaning Physical Touch]

"Unidentified Starship, please identify yourself."

There was a long pause, then a voice replied over a very low radio band, sounding like they were speaking Galactic Standard for the first time ever.

"Us...come in [meaning permission to enter a location] no conflict."

I glanced at the clock, annoyed that I couldn't claim I didn't have time before my end of shift.

"First contact, very well. Please allow the drone to access your databank to translate."

No idea if they understood me, but when I sent the drone out they fired on it.

Which was good, the destruction paperwork's much lighter.

Above The Pacific

The fuel ran out 70 clicks out from land.

I checked my height. 30000 feet up, give or take. The average rule of thumb was you could glide 1 or 2 kilometres for every drop of 1000 feet. So double 30...

Not great.

I had a choice, in fact I had several, but most revolved around which basic approach to take.

I could hope for decent winds, hit the water a few clicks away, and wait for people to turn up.

Or I could lighten the load.

"Ok, so, we're gonna have to jump for it, you guys go first!"

The Spirit

I watched the spirit slowly spin around in the whisky bottle as I twirled it with my finger on the table.

I knew I should give it up. Ever since I was 15, it was a part of my life, but as much fun and enjoyment I'd gotten out of it, I'd had to deal with the aftermaths. How many mornings of vomiting and headaches due to overuse had I endured?

But could I face things without it?

After a moment, I opened the bottle.

The spirit fairy flew out and didn't look back, I don't blame her one bit.

Telling

He walked in and put a sports bag on the table. I looked up at him, then at the bag, then him.

"And that is?"

"Open it."

I looked at the general shape of it.

"Look, I don't need visual proof you killed him, if that's-"

"Nah, he's still alive."

I looked back at him.

"So this is an apology bag?"

"No. Open it."

"Vinny, I'm tired. What is going on?"

"Found this in his place. Open it."

I sighed and opened the bag.

"That's more than he stole, right?"

"What is?"

The bag wasn't there any more, we decided.

Deathknuckle

COME, YOUR END AWAITS.

I stared up at the skeleton in the robe, and waved my hands desperately.

"Can't I play a game to beat you?"

It sighed, impressive considering it didn't have lungs.

ALWAYS WITH THE LAST CHANCE. FINE. WE PLAY DEATHKNUCKLE.

"I don't know that game, I was hoping for poker or-"

I CHOOSE THE GAME. WE PLAY DEATHKNUCKLE.

"Ok, how do we play?"

I AM NOT OBLIGATED TO TELL YOU THAT.

"That's not fair!"

NEITHER IS TRYING TO EXTEND YOUR LIFE PAST YOUR SCHEDULED END, YET HERE WE ARE. NOW CHOOSE.

"Uh... Twenty?"

...

YET ANOTHER LUCKY BASTARD.

Eyewitness

I am aware of the official records and what they have to say about that night.

I appreciate that they've got a lot of collaborative evidence and that they, to their credit, have not drawn attention to it, thus further making sure it seems like just another night.

I understand that I am not what would be judged as a reliable witness, nor that I have any right to be believed, especially about such a crazy claim.

But.

I. KNOW. WHAT. I. SAW.

And as long as you keep me locked up here, I'll know I'm right. Ain't that right?

First Step's A Doozy

He tossed me into the Endless Abyss to stop me ending his plans of conquest.

I screamed for, I think an hour? Obviously it was impossible to tell time, but it felt roughly that long before my voice gave out.

Over maybe 30 hours, I grew to realise that the Abyss seemed to have sone benefits, I wasn't tired, hungry, thirsty, bodily functions were not happening.

Then I spent a good few hundred hours testing various theories on how the Abyss seemed to work.

Thankfully when he tossed someone else in I was still sane and could reach them easily.

Time Travel Thinking

Ok, so hear me out. If we assume that time travel is possible, any changes to the timeline have to have some limitation. To whit, they can't end up precluding time travel, both for the practical paradox avoidance, and also out of some sense of self preservation.

And there's only two plausible scenarios given our current state of the world where they develop time travel. Either the future is so amazing they have the capacity to experiment and make it, or a billionaire creates it to be rich.

One doesn't need to change things, the other doesn't want to, either.

Cracking Magic

The Wizard stroked his (magically enhanced) long white beard.

"So, your claim is that there's something beyond the Gods?"

"Yes! Because how else can magic work as people wish it, and not be weird?"

"I explained it, us magic wielders have intense willpower that-"

"Ok, but willpower against what? If its just empty randomness, spells wouldn't fail. You're pressing up against something, or someone!"

"And if it's not the Gods..."

"Which it isn't."

"Then... Hmm. You may be onto something.

Shame."

He waved a hand, and the troublemaker was consumed by the void before they got too out of hand.

Wave Goodbye

I found him staring at a button.

"The outer defenses have fallen, is it ready?"

"Sort of."

"Explain."

"It'll send the wave out, killing any living thing outside the inner defences."

"I'm not hearing a justification for 'sort of' there."

"The wave will just keep going, through space, wiping out everything. Enemy forces, civilians, mindless creatures, everything."

"It'll wipe out all other life? Seriously?"

"I mean, the energy will probably dissipate after a few dozen light years, but can we justify-"

I leaned over and pressed the button.

Nothing happened.

"And that's why I disabled the weapon a minute ago."

God Of Morality

After decades of study, and thousands of gold pieces worth of magic ingredients, I finally cast a spell that got me to speak with them.

"Mortal, you dare insist on speaking to the God of Morality?"

"Yes, what gives you the right to judge all acts?"

The God paused.

"I'm a God, you understand."

"So what? Who decided you could decide what is good and evil in the world?"

"I did. That's the point. Why, you think you could do better?"

"Maybe, I-"

"Deal!"

There was a flash, and I became the God of Morality, and understood why he ran.

Somewhat Lucky

It was two hours in when I stood up. I was lucky in that they didn't shoot me immediately.

"Hey, sit the fuck down, we-"

"Are three people trying to maintain control of eleven while holding off the cops. Look, just let the rest of them go and keep me."

"Are you crazy, man?"

"No, I'm just trying to end this with the best possible outcome. You let all these others go, you'll get sympathy."

After a brief discussion, they agreed, as two of them sheparded the rest out, leaving just one with me that I quickly and easily overwhelmed.

Non-Drabble: Taking Time Off

 Hey, so I'm going to be taken a couple weeks off, real life stuff and then prepping for an RPG con, so my mind is elsewhere. I'm aiming for an Oct 8th return, but there's always a chance I'll come up with an idea and just have to post. But hey, there's thousands of Drabbles here, have fun, and I'll see you soon!

Drone On

The war was fought for 100 years, and also over 25 minutes.

The declaration was done over the inter-system communication array, a religious dogma on one end, a very long term expansion plan on the other.

Both systems then set in motion the plans, both of them launching drone strikes that set off on their journeys across empty space, towards the targets.

For decades, the massive payloads travelled, silently, until they finally arrived and connected in a complicated 25 minutes.

Unfortunately, by then, both sides had completely forgotten about the initial war, and it started all over again soon after.

That's Our Time

It was in the third session that my therapist had a rather subtle crash-out.

"Why are you here?"

I quickly worked through what I thought they could mean before I gave up.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you clearly aren't looking to improve, so why are you wasting both of our times?"

"I'm open to improving!"

"So you'll consider meditation?"

"That crap doesn't work, I told you."

"Journalling?"

"That's just busy work."

"And gratitude practice?"

"What in my life do I have to be grateful for?"

"I repeat, why are you here?"

"Drugs."

"I knew it!"

"My mother's."

"... What?" 

Chased

I had chased the light in the sky to where it crashed a mile or so into the forest.

I had expected to find a crashed aircraft, and while I had, I had unconsciously included 'human' in my expectation and that had proven false.

I wasn't sure how to approach it, but then a panel opened up, and I was doubly confused when a regular looking guy in a nice dress shirt and slacks stepped out.

I went to say something and then --- I took over the new body and headed to their vehicle and escape before I was discovered.

Good Knight, Sweet Prince

Once upon a time, there was a prince.

This was a problem.

The King had been... 'resting' for several years, and the Prince had been content, at first, to focus on training with the knights during the day and at night running...

In any case, the Royal Advisers had been running everything quite well in their estimation, but the Prince was beginning to not only want to start running things, but even have his own ideas.

Attempts were made to deal with him, but he remained annoying and repeatedly awake.

And then the King woke up, causing even more problems.

As Far As

As far as ways to be woken up, a punch to the stomach is low down the list, but not at the bottom.

As far as people holding you hostage, masked thugs is actually pretty good, means they're scared you'll identify them later.

As far as demands from kidnappers go, codes to a bank intranet is pretty bad, on the assumption that you don't know them.

As far as cases of mistaken identity go, getting kidnapped is pretty low on the desired outcomes list.

And as far as rescues go, really, any you survive are a passing grade, I say.

21 Underground

I finished paying him out, and watched him leave. Once he was just out of earshot, the new heavy cracked his knuckles next to me.

"So you want me to go get our money back?"

I looked at him, quelling my first instinct to express amazement he could speak.

"No, we don't do that if a newbie gets lucky their first night, assuming they aren't cheating. It gets out we beat up successful gamblers, we get no new customers."

"Oh.

So what if he's lucky next time?"

"Then his luck will run out."

He stared at me until I explained.

Honor And Predictability

The Honorable Warrior sat in the clearing, sharpening his blade. He then heard a twig break behind him, with the familiar sound of a weapon being drawn.

"Now, given the circumstances, I have to assume you know the rules of honorable combat, and also that you know I abide by them. You have then deliberately chosen to flout those rules.

I admit that I know the rules make one predictable. But not nearly as predictable as one choosing to break them. That's why I travel with Corv here."

The would-be ambusher was long dead with Corv's blade through their back.

I Don't

She stepped out onto the balcony so quietly I didn't even hear her until she spoke, but given my whole life had just ended, I suppose I might not have been paying that much attention.

"So, rather than talk to me in private, you stage this big elaborate declaration of love in front of everyone. I gotta know why, at least why this way."

I debated what to say then picked the truth just to say something, quickly.

"Because you deserve the best."

She sighed.

"I hope, one day, you understand that best and biggest aren't synonymous."

I did, eventually.

Strike

Most people, there's not a turning point that changes their lives, just long, slow locking in paths.

But some people, they have that one moment that is the tangent point. Some don't recognise it until after the fact, a few manage to have a record.

Fewer still have it broadcast across the world.

He stepped up to the plate, this the swing to win everything, and he swung with all his might, and changed his life.

After all, merely scoring would have been nice and all, but the way he struck out, set him up as a punchline for life.

Universe XX875

"Hello, you're speaking with Jack, how can I help you?"

"This is the Alternate Universes Help Line, yes?"

"That's correct sir, are you calling for help in building a bridge between universes?"

"No, I've built one already, and used it."

"Excellent, do you have a technical issue? Your device broken or malfunctioning?"

"What? No..."

"Are you paralysed by the realisation that there is a seemingly infinite number of universes and thus have issues with morality or-"

"No, no! I'm... Every universe I've visited, the other mes, they're all female!"

"...

Transferring you to the Self-Realisation department now sir, please hold on."

Everything You Know Is Wrong

So did you hear how one of the reasons Weird Al stopped doing new parodies (at least so far) is due to not being able to be sure everyone has the same cultural touchstones?

It makes sense if you think about it, how many people do you know who don't know any songs by that current artist you love, or who don't know what that streaming TV show is about despite it being so good? Or vice versa with crap your co-workers and friends like?

That makes sense, right? Well, thing is, this also applies to news and facts now...

The Orb Of Pain

It took a while to understand what The Orb was doing, given we couldn't work out what it was made of. But eventually it was theorised and then shown to hover over the human that, at that point in time, was in the most pain on the planet.

For all the talk of trying to use it for finding crash sites and the like, there was too many births and natural deaths for that to work.

And then there was the fact that for half the time, it was hovering over a farmer who insisted he was feeling just fine.

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...