My Headache

I have a headache.

It's not that bad a one, all things considered. I know that other people having it worse than me doesn't invalidate my feelings, but it does give me perspective.

And thus I put up with it. I probably bring it on myself, really, what with how I act. I mean, I could try to change my life to maybe get rid of it, but then maybe that wouldn't work, and it would be wasted time.

No no, far better to just accept the pain and try and focus on the positives of her.

It, I mean.

Minutes From The Secret No Females Club

The Secret No Females Club met, as per usual, on Friday afternoon in Mark's garage. After the pot luck meal break (Bobby was commended on managing to bring a family chocolate bar), discussion turned to the affairs of the week. Siddiq began a presentation on the baseball game the previous Sunday when Zhang arrived and tabled an emergency motion, regarding how Rachel, a previously discussed female on Washinton Parade, had now become a male called Gordon. Discussion was brief, with Dwayne providing technical information, and a motion was tabled and passed to invite him into The Club.

Meeting was dismissed.

Insert Payment

The phone rang.

I appreciate that doesn't seem like a big deal, phones ring all the time, that's in, like, their top 5 uses. But this was a public payphone.

The voice on the other end was very relieved, as they asked me "why no-one had used me in so long, I'm so hungry."

I don't know why I leapt to the assumption that the payphone was asking me, but I told it how no-one used payphones anymore because of our mobiles. The voice then demanded help in exchange for my life.

But whatever. You want to buy my car?

Down Soul

The Guard locked the cell door. The Prisoner sneered at him.

"You can lock up my body, but not my soul!"

"Sure I can, these here are soul binding bars."

The Guard knocked the bars with his baton. The Prisoner tilted his head slightly.

"No, I was talking metaphorically, idiot. As long as I can imagine and dream, I'm free."

The Guard chuckled.

"So I was I, genius. These things rattle and drip with moisture, you'll always be reminded of where you are, no daydreaming for you!"

The Guard wasn't about to tell The Prisoner about the magic spells, obviously.

Name, Rank, Serial Number

The door opened, as the loud music stopped. After a few moments, a man brought in a desk.

"Sergeant Jeff Becker, 848732B."

He placed the desk, making sure it was lined up, before ducking back out and bringing in a chair.

"Sergeant Jeff Becker, 848732B."

He walked out, the door closing.

The door reopened.

"Sergeant Jeff Becker, 848732B."

A woman walked in and placed her briefcase down, the clasps snapping open as she began to unpack its contents onto the desk, finishing with a picture of his daughter, taken that morning, it looked like.

"What do you want to know?"

The Simple Plan

The plan was, for him, quite simple. Usually, in an attempt to ensure the various Superheros couldn't stop him, he'd have dozens of false flags and hidden back ups and back ups for the back ups.

But this time, he didn't need all that. He just had to steal one specific item, then recite one incantation, and he'd have power beyond his wildest dreams.

It wasn't even a heavily guarded item, just a goblet in a third rate museum.

Still, best to make it look like he was stealing something else.

And do a false flag robbery across town.

And...

Late First Contact

There was movement in front of the hologram display, so it sprung into life.

"Welcome to Earth! Do you need help?"

The holographic woman flickered slightly as the AI began to adjust. The last 53,874,754 times it had offered assistance, there was no-one. Now there was an alien bring.

"Do you speak Earthen?"

The AI tried, and failed, to connect to the network, and so was forced to utilise emergency protocols.

"On behalf of the Human Race, welcome. Do you have a translation matrix to interface?"

The alien scout hologram finally connected to their network, and downloaded first contact protocols.