Deathcheat

Of all the spells known in the Twenty Lands, Deathcheat is the only one not fully understood.

The Highones mastered Airmove centuries ago. Lightmake capsule exports support the Deepclan Empire. But Deathcheat, no one has quite got the hang of it.

It's a Level Blue spell, first decade students can cast it, just a simple arrhythmic hand gesture and twelve spoken words. Which must be spoken so as to finish right at the millisecond of death.

And that's apparently hard to nail down. Apparently.

The alternative is that it doesn't work, and that can't be it. We're all so smart.

The Big City

I was confused when there was a knock at my apartment door, I hadn't buzzed anyone in. But I opened it anyway, to find a rather attractive young woman.

"Yes?"

"Hi, um, can I see your penis?"

I was fairly certain I hadn't woken up in a porno, and yet here we were.

"Excuse me?"

"See, I grew up in Wheatsville, few hundred miles that way, and after my boyfriend dumped me I've been working my way here to the city, and guys have been so friendly and eager, and you know... But, like, as I've gotten closer to the city, they've been getting bigger and bigger, and since this apartment block is right in the middle of the city, I thought to prove if I'm right, I should find a guy who lives here, and the other guys I've asked have said no and-"

I held up a hand to stop the torrent of words. I sighed and opened the door for her. She came in, I shrugged and yanked down my waistband. She gasped.

"Oh my god, I WAS RIGHT!"

I looked down at my package. "Oh you dear child, I'm so sorry you've had such bad luck."

Bringing Ray Back

Message sent 12 hours ago.

Message title is as follows: 'Son, PLEASE!'

Message content overflows available cache space. Allow for reclaiming of data storage from Sun_Program.exe? Y/N.

"N"

Working...

Message reduced to fit available space. Play? Y/N.

"Y"

Working...

'Son, it's your parents, we / officer here says you're / think you're right / kill yourself and / come home please / forget / we don't blame you for Ray"

Message ends. Replay/Archive/Delete? R/A/D.

"D"

Working...

Message deleted.

Sun_Program.exe has finished calculations, ready to execute. Execute? Y/N.

"Y"

Working...

Supanova induction online, ready to transfer power in 12 hours.

What Happened To Susan?

We both went for our guns. I got mine first.

She laughed. "Great. I get brought in by the lowest scoring marksman of the class."

I sighed. "How long you going to be on my nuts about that?"

She shrugged. "Considering what the bosses want to do to me once I'm in the chair... Couple more hours?"

I blanched. " The chair? You've done..."

I lowered my weapon.

"Run."

She stared at me for a second then rolled to her feet and shot me in the leg.

"More believable that way."

I grunted and returned fire, but my shot went high.

Cycle

There once was a man.
There once was a woman.
Thus, there was once a couple.
There was love.
There was lust.
There was the warm satisfaction of angering parental figures.
Thus, there was determination to stick together.
There was frustration.
There was anger.
There was hatred.
But still was the determination to remain as a couple.
But then there was another man.
But then there was another woman.
Once again there was love.
Once again there was lust.
There was temptation.
There was openings.
Thus, there was a break-up.

And thus there was a man, there was a woman...

Aesop 2.0: 24. The Kangaroo And Her Joey

The Kangaroo had a Joey, whom she loved very much. But as she held her new baby Joey in her pouch, she looked out at the world, and saw nothing but dangers. The waterhole might drown him, the food might choke him. So she decided to keep her Joey safe in her pouch. Even as he got bigger and bigger she kept him inside, making him deformed from the tight squeeze, which just made her more determined to protect him, until she tore apart, neither of them able to survive.

"Overprotection of your children just ends up hurting you both."

Unrelated, Surely

There were, oh, a thousand or so songs we played on Classic Rock 99.5, give or take swings in popularity.

But there was one song that we'd play once a week, at three twenty-five a.m. every Thursday morning. It was "Hold On" by Yes.

Not a horrible song, sure, but I just didn't get why we played it every week at that time.

I brought it up with my boss, the owner (wasn't a huge station) and he fired me.

So I tuned in the next Thursday, and it was "Release, Release" instead.

Then the next day saw the invasion.