May 3, 2017

From “The Pzevsk Pocket” by Zack Keppvost

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By the end of 1944, the Soviet summer offensive led to the German troops around Pzevsk being completely cut off. They were isolated from both the retreating forces of Army Group Center to the south and the remnants of Army Group North which had been trapped on the Courland Peninsula in Latvia.

All told, about 10,000 Germans were trapped around Pzevsk. The Soviets, preoccupied both by the much larger Courland pocket to the north and the continuing offensives to the west, were content to blockade Pzevsk in order to starve their opponents out. Pzevsk was a city of modest size with no natural resources, and there were not enough supplies to sustain a large group of soldiers without resupply. Naturally, the German command refused to evacuate or surrender Pzevsk; the last orders sent to the pocket in April 1945 called for it to resist.

After the surrender in Europe, the Courland pocket was surrendered to the Soviets but the much smaller Pzevsk pocket did not respond to demands for surrender. A belated Soviet attack on May 10 met no resistance, and rapidly overtook the position.

This was because every last soldier in the pocket was already dead.

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May 2, 2017

From “The Platonic Anthill” by Chilton Paillant

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“So wait,” said Zane. “Every ant in this hill is a Platonic ideal?”

“That’s right,” Queenie said. “Over there? That worker is the platonic ideal of a slice of pepperoni pizza. The one crawling up your leg? She is classical music.”

“What happens when one of them is…you know…squished?” Zane said, looking very carefully at the pepperoni ant.

“I beg your pardon,” Queenie said. “Are you thinking of squishing pepperoni pizza out of the universal experience?”

“N-no! Well, maybe. I am a vegan after all.”

“My anthill is eternal,” said Queenie. “When one of my daughters dies, the concept dies with them. It is as if it never existed.”

“That’s impossible,” Zane said. He took a moment for the absurdity of saying that to a talking ant queen and expecting an answer to sink in before he continued: “I’d remember the pizza I ate before I went vegan.”

“Oh really? Do you remember zorgbl? My daughter representing zorgbl was taken by an anteater two weeks ago.”

“You’re just making that up.”

“See? You don’t remember. Pity, too. Zorgbl was the favorite food of many a human. And I’m sure you don’t remember cypipre either, or yttuggmix.”

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May 1, 2017

From “Liturgy of the Creator” by Geno Raub

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“The Creator, who lies dead and dreaming…has dreams for us all. And…and when It wakes, It will…”

“There, there, that’s enough,” said Inspector Bryar. “You’re shaking like a leaf, Sister Ethne! An inspector from the Sepulcher is no reason to tremble so.”

“M-my…m-my apologies, Inspector,” said Ethne with a deep curtsey. Her mask, fine-featured and impassive, did not match the quailing tone issuing from it.

“We are not used to our ceremonies being attended by outsiders, I’m afraid,” said Father Yser. He spread his hands in an apologetic way, his fingers doing what his scarred visage could not.

“Of course, I understand completely,” said Bryar with a gentle laugh. “Half the time, I forget the liturgy myself whenever I’m called to recite it.”

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April 30, 2017

From “Noodleman’s Postmortem” by Dale M. M. Postmann

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It was originally, if you can believe it, a janitor’s closet. So it had the hookups for water and gas but only one entry. When they turned into Noodleman’s, that was a problem–with one entrance that was going to be the order and pickup window, how were we going to get in and out?

Well, we did it by climbing through the pickup/takeout window.

Now, you might wonder how that would work, with us putting our shoes all over the same counter people are served food on, especially after stomping around on a food prep floor for hours at a time. You’d think people would be disgusted by this.

Nope!

You forget that Noodleman’s was a hipster restaurant, catering to people who were used to terrible seating and used to being served on dustpans. So it didn’t bother them that there were footprints on the counter, just like it didn’t bother them that the only seating was a foot-wide shelf bolted to alley bricks with surplus science classroom stools as seats.

Heck, it didn’t even bother them when they closed the place down for health reasons. I still hear people waxing nostalgic about our cold peanut noodles!

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April 29, 2017

From “The Cement Cube of Zapultepec” by C. Zane Peceteno

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After it was abandoned around 1400 due to its conquest by the Aztecs, the city of Zapultepec wasn’t discovered and excavated until 1930. The statuary was long sunk into ruin, but there was one fascinating artifact that mystified its discoverers and continues to excite speculation to this day.

A cube, rough and not perfect, but seemingly made of stone. Bizarrely, it appeared to be made out of steel-reinforced concrete with heavily pitted and rusted rebar sticking out in several spots. This was particularly impossible, as steelmaking did not exist in pre-Columbian Mexico, and steel-reinforced concrete in particular was not invented in the form of the cement cube of Zapultepec until 1884.

More bizarrely still, the cube seemed to have fallen to the Zapultepec site from a great height, at least 300 feet if not more than 1000. This was evident in the strata and ejecta of the impact, still visible after hundreds of years. But is it was impossible for rebar-embedded concrete to be there, it was doubly so for it to have fallen from such a great height.

Largely thanks to the cube, Zapultapec’s otherwise unspectacular ruins have become a tourist attraction. It’s cited by many in paranormal circles as a prime example of an OOPART, an out-of-place artifact that demonstrates that some form of time travel or alien intervention has taken place.

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April 28, 2017

From “On the Nose” by Breanna Joyner

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“She’s in the Nose” was the most popular sitcom on NBS in 2002, telling the story of teenage prodigy plastic surgeon Jessica Chalmers. Spoiled and sequestered, she nevertheless managed to embark upon a series of wacky adventures doing nose jobs and tummy tucks for a cavalcade of celebrity guest stars. The show, and Chalmers’ oft-repeated catch phrase “the nose knows, ‘kay?” were massive hits for the first season but rapidly tanked in the second thanks to the addition of a wise-cracking 8-year-old-nurse, who audiences hated.

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April 27, 2017

From “Dweavan’s Memorial, City of Underdeep” by Bateau Muertre

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“Fascinating,” said Leanorel. A few more brush strokes revealed the final portions of the mural. “This hallways was used by the dwarves to record their entire history as it happened, from the founding of the settlement to its ultimate failure.”

Aviss, her fellow archaeologist from the Elven Exploration and Excavation Society leaned forward. “We’ve seen the years of plenty, but everyone knows about those from the other settlements. Let’s see the good stuff.”

“This panel…the dwarves seem to be triumphant over the goblins, but the runes tell a different story. They say that the overseer demanded a triumphant mural but it is only a monument to death.”

“Interesting, and not unlike a dwarf to say,” drawled Aviss. “What about that last bit there?”

Leanorel recoiled. “That’s not engraved in the same way, it was chiseled in roughly over another half-finished triumph.”

“What’s it say?”

“DWEAVAN YOU ASSHOLE YOU’VE KILLED US ALL.”

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April 26, 2017

From “Squan the Skulker” by Hooper Gregware

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“Is it too much to ask where we’re going?” Squan lisped, his fattened lip making him dribble as he talked.

“Harrowshire,” I said.

“Harrowshire? I ain’t been there in years. Ain’t exactly popular there neither. Makes Anairo look like a royal harem.”

“Well,” I spat, “you’re going back. And you’re gonna die there.”

“Oh,” said Squan. “I see. Well, all right then.”

I turned around, craning my neck up to look in his big dumb face. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I said.

“What’s what supposed to mean?” the orc said. “Ain’t mumbling. I said okay.”

“You don’t want to know why I’m bringing you there?” I shouted, somewhat unwisely, as Anairo is all ears for weakness.

“Can’t say as I do. You’ve got your reasons, but I ain’t got a say in ’em.”

“Even if you die?” I said.

“Well, if you really wanted me dead, I’d be dead.” Squan said with a shrug. “If I die when we get where we’re going, that means I get to live for now. Ain’t that a gift? I’ll take it.”

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April 25, 2017

From “The Trunkeling” by Anonymous

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“These men have clearly been trampled,” said the investigator.

“No,” said Detective Foster. “Look at the splinters, the root marks. They’ve been trunkled. Our perp is a middle aged maple tree, maybe 12’2″.”

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April 24, 2017

From “The High King and High Queen of the Faeries” by Ada Mae Spinnaker

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The faeries have been ruled since time immemorial by a high king and a high queen. As faeries are a contentious lot, they have never been able to agree on a succession. Rather, they elect from among themselves nobles, who in turn elect from among themselves a high king and high queen (not necessarily husband and wife!). The nobles and the high king and high queen rule for a year and a day before a new moot is held. As is their nature, the lowliest peasant faerie may, in the space of two years and two days, become high king or high queen.

Naturally, this has posed problems in the past.

Perhaps the greatest trials come with the death of the high king or high queen before their term is up, which requires an emergency moot. Every faerie proposes their favorite, and etiquette requires that every candidate receive at least one vote. Every faerie then votes for their own nominee, meaning that the high lordship can be decided with as little as two votes.

And that is how, one late April morning, Ms. Ada Mae Spinnaker awoke and put on her tea only to learn that she had been elected high queen of the faeries despite never even voting for herself.

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