Jan 28, 2011

Not Your Fluidic Powers

“Monsieur Buguet, you will not exert your ‘fluidic powers’ over that chair,” shouted the chief of police.
“Just you watch,” said Buguet with a grin.

Jan 26, 2011

Staple Your Heart to Mine

“Delivered,” said the label on the package. Rachel found me by the water cooler. Rooted to the spot.

Artiodactyls of Mars

We were the first genetic design agency on Mars. Imagine the responsibility. And the smallish client pool. General Ping clomped in, all gritted teeth and lightning in his eye. Ping towed a floating piglet behind him. “There’s a situation with the mascot you gave us,” he said.

Jan 25, 2011

Jan 22, 2011

Guest Post: IWriteReadRate, a place for writers

By Adam Charles (Director of iwritereadrate.com)

For me, and maybe for you too, admitting to being an unpublished writer is sort of a little bit like admitting to having contracted some disease in some bizarre circumstance.

Uber-Nasty Balloon of Splattery Death

Branson gripped the rope with all his might. The model weighed a ton. She locked his throat in her skeletal arms and wailed in his ear.

Jan 19, 2011

The Tree that Glows in the Dark

They say the apple tree in Caulkin’s backyard glows in the dark because he buried his ma under it.

Cabbage Gone Wild

The lady at the checkout appraised the alarming bulge in his pants.

Jan 18, 2011

Die with a Card Up My Sleeve

Carson was about to die with a card up his sleeve, he just didn’t know it yet.

Jan 15, 2011

Bonus post #2: pack half a dozen things and go

pack half a dozen things and go, originally uploaded by redtieguy.
The black Lincoln roared past the gate, four miscreated mugs staring red-eyed through the windows, baring their teeth. David squeezed Kalia’s arm. “Your husband?” He asked. “There’s something wrong with the engines,” the pilot shouted from the cockpit.

Jan 14, 2011

Snake Bites and Homicidal Clowns

Branson ditched the in-laws and homed in on the nearest bar. A flat-chested cocktail waitress, past her expiration date, brought him a Snake Bite. Six clowns in red and blue,

Jan 7, 2011

One-gun midges

The hornets roared and cleaved the sky, with fat bombs in their iron bellies. Yellow-jackets scouted ahead. Twice as fast as their large cousins, ten times as small. One-gun midges flew circles around the red bombers. Winged shadows swam across the floodplain. The Termite radars were down.

Flamingo burrow

‘It must be a flamingo burrow,’ said Emil.
‘Flamingos burrow?’

CFOs and leather masks

When he donned the brown leather mask, he was no longer a CFO. He was a naked puppy in chains begging for discipline. If his wife learned of his lunchtime escapades, she would have him killed. But if her father found out—

Ballad of the Cross-dressing Milkman

The milkman was driving around in a mauve lace top and burgundy chiffon skirt. Curly chest hairs dancing in the wind like summer grass.