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October 9, 2016

From “The Other Dark Meat” by Anonymous

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Hatched under a blood moon from a black egg laid by a hen that had been hexed by a witch or something, Peckabella the Dark Chicken was the most evil fowl ever to walk the earth.

Her Dark Eggs were sold at a local farmer’s market and uickly gained infamy both for their robust taste and their 100% evil content (by volume). Misfortune invariably befell anyone who handled, ate, or touched one of these black oblate spheroids of doom, but they also had a surprisingly robust taste.

Eventually, the farmers decided that Peckabella’s reign of doom over the barnyard had to stop. They made plans to cook her into a pot pie for the neighbors. But the evil chicken had the last laugh: while a pot pie did show up on the neighbors’ doorstep the next day, Peckabella was seen in the farmyard soon after. It was the farmers that were never seen again.

The dark chicken ran the farm under an alias until she disappered a few years later during a solar eclipse.

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October 8, 2016

From “Invasive Roundabouts” by Auburn D’Soto

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Originally native to the island of Great Britain, the roundabout is an urban spirit that takes the form of a massive circle blocking an intersection. It feeds off the energy of wasted time, momentum, and frustration to grow and reproduce. The largest and oldest roundabouts have multiple lanes, having become far more efficient in their harvesting of misery.

A pregnant roundabout was imported to New York in 1989 in the mistaken belief that it could reduce fatalies at Dead Man’s Corner in Queens. From that single progenitor a massive infestation of invasive roundabouts resulted, and with no native predators they have expanded aggressively at the expense of native four-way stops.

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October 7, 2016

From “Astral Affections™ Dating Service” by Calista Stofferan

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I had exhausted all the usual avenues of dating. The bar scene, online matchmaking sites, the local matchmaker in my shtetl, nothing seemed to being the prospect of love any closer.

Then I tried Astral Affections™, the award-winning dating program for out-of-body experiences. By leaving my mortal shell and projecting my ego into the Realms Beyond, I was able to stroll the streets of mighty Celephaïs free from the constraints of mortal affection.

Without Astral Affections™, I never would have met the love of my life, Shar-Udar. Some back home may say that a guy like me could never work things out with a being of pure dreamcrystal coalesced from the souls of drowned insectoir concubines. But I say that we, and our family of precipitate dreamworms, are proof otherwise.

Try Astral Affections™. It works.

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October 6, 2016

From “A One-Pirate Army” by Georgia Rainford

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“But why do you have to kill?” said Mercedes. “And steal? Surely a truly free man would be above such things.”

“Listen to yourself,” said Cooke. “The only reason people don’t have to take for themselves is because they’ve given that up. When you surrender your freedom to a king, you’re less likely to die in battle, more likely to die in bed. But the killing? The stealing? It doesn’t stop. It just moves. There are people killing and stealing for you every day of your life. Soldiers, sailors, merchants.”

“Only if they have to.”

“And we’re just doing what we have to,” Cooke said. “We take what we need to live as free men.”

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October 5, 2016

From “The Last Ride of The Undertower” by Miriam “Screamin’ Mimi” Edds

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Hawg Phillips drew Screamin’ Mimi aside. “Look,” he said. “I didn’t want to say nothin’ before, but I saw Death’s Head sneakin’ into the garage for The Undertower.”

Screamin’ Mimi’s tattoo (“Vaya Con Muerte”) lowered along with her suspicious eyebrows. “When was that?”

“Just before The Undertower wrecked at the last Truckasaurus Wrex in Cascadia.”

“Have you told anyone else, Hawg?”

Hawg stroked his waxed mustache. “I might’ve mentioned it to Popeye Phipps.”

“Might’ve?” Screamin’ Mimi said. “Hawg, this is the third monster trucker we’ve lost in a month. You gotta do better than ‘might’ve.”

“Look, I was loaded like a .38 when we was talkin’, okay?” said Hawg.

LEss than 12 hours later, he was dead.

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October 4, 2016

From “GesteCo Everything-Proof Makeup” by Mariana Brinson

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Part 1
“Dammit, why won’t this makeup come off?” said Jamie. “It says it’s waterproof.”

Part 2
“I don’t like putting makeup over makeup, but what choice do I have?” muttered Jamie. “I’ve got to leave the house.”

Part 3
“It’s okay, Jamie,” said the makeup, slipping on a pair of sunglasses to hide the hollow eyes that exposed it as a shell of indestructable flesh-colored concealer. “I’ll be just fine without you.”

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October 3, 2016

From “The M885 Fable” by Bernard S. Roberts

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But then, what were the Vyeah but the dark parts of every fairy story since the war? Like any other heroine, our Myassa had been raised up on tales of monsters cast down in defeat by those who were clever enough to keep their heads in times of trial.

But our heroine had more than a level head swaddled in black cloth. Our girl was not like those heroes–and we must say heroes, children, because the only women in Myassa’s tales were wives, mothers, and the occasional schoolmarm. The girl had a M885 automatic marksman rifle with the optional electric ignition and sabot ammunition, a tool that any dragon-slaying prince would envy.

The first Vyaeh that entered the kill-box that our heroine had expertly marked out was ushered from this world into the next before it even heard a sound.

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October 2, 2016

From “The Counterfeit” by Eton Fruichette

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It was made of cheap plastic, the kind that wobbles and won’t hold its shape under gentle pressure but snaps like a twig is pressed even slightly too hard. There were seams, warps, and wobbles throughout, and what details there were had the look of lazy vacuum-forming.

The nameplate read “BиW JAGUR SPURT.”

“Wow,” he said. “These new Chinese sedans aren’t even trying.”

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October 1, 2016

From “Irritable Time Syndrome” by GesteCo LLC GmbH

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NARRATOR: Do you notice that time seems to pass irregularly for you?

YOUNG WOMAN: I had just gone for a jog around the park but I’d been gone for six days, long enough for the police to open an investigation!

NARRATOR: Do seemingly normal events seem to take far too long, or happen far too quickly?

MATRONLY LADY: I had just sat down to tea and then, all of a sudden, my thirties had passed on 6.2 seconds.

NARRATOR: You’re not alone.

TEENAGER: I know the clock said it was only six seconds, by from my point of view it was thirty-six thousand years. I used the time to invent a new language.

NARRATOR: If you or someone you know experiences random bouts of irregular time, you may suffer from Irritable Time Syndrome, a chronological disease experienced by one in twenty adults. But now, there’s something to help.

YOUNG WOMAN: Chronosterol.

MATRONLY LADY: Chronesterol.

TEENAGER: Chronesterol.

NARRATOR: Once-daily Chronestrol can help you with your Irritable Time Syndrome. Ask your chronologist today. Possible side effects include nausea, upset stomach, headahce, deja vu, memory loss, temporary temporal dislocation syndrome (TTDS), and dry mouth. Stop taking Chronesterol immediately if you experience sudden aging or sudden youngening.

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September 30, 2016

From “The Petersen Plate” by Pearlene Potts

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“Steel wool,” said Carrie.

“Steel wool,” agreed Mick, adding it to the ledger.

“Apple cider vinegar,” said Carrie.

“Apple cider vinegar,” Mick repeated, his pen dancing.

“Two ceramic tiles,” said Carrie.

“Two ceramic tiles,” Mick said. They were duly added to the ledger.

“All from Peterson?” said Carrie.

“All from Peterson.”

Carrie looked at Mick. “I don’t think Peterson understands how sandwiches work.”

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