July 14, 2011

From “High Score” by Donald Q. Ralstone

Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: , , , |
Leave a Comment 

The voice at the other end of the line was pleasant, but with a faint far-eastern accent. “Mr. Sanderson, we’ve had quite the time tracking you down.”

“That’s why I wrote under a pseudonym,” Sanderson said. “It’s kind of the point.” He thought about hanging up, but if someone had gone to such great lengths to track him down, he might as well hear them out.

“Of course, of course,” the voice said. “My name is Nokin Kobayashi, and I’m with the San Francisco branch of Sunstar Games.”

Sanderson could already feel a headache building up. “Let me guess: it’s about the High Score series.”

“Well, yes,” said Kobayashi sounding both relieved and a little embarrassed. “I’m sure you know how successful the series was–and frankly, I have to congratulate you on such a marvelous idea. Selling novel adaptations of video games to young readers? A masterstroke for the educational market.”

“So I told myself at the time,” Sanderson grumbled. The residuals had certainly made it easy enough to work on other projects, but those books were never intended to be his sole scrap of notoriety. That’s what the pseudonym was for, dammit.

“The reason I’m calling, Mr. Sanderson, is that we’d like to use aspects that you introduced in your novelization of Blaster Squad Attack for the upcoming next-gen sequel. We’ll give you full credit and compensation, of course.”

“Not in a million years.”

 

July 11, 2011

From “The Steam’d and Sultry Metropole” by Lord Gilbert Upton-Pookie

Posted by alexp01 under Blog Chain | Tags: , , |
[16] Comments 

This post is part of the July 2011 Blog Chain at Absolute Write. This month’s challenge is a bad opening sentence in the Bulwer-Lytton tradition.

The steam’d and sultry city immemorial was suffused with oppressive heat, the level of phlogiston in the aether reaching such levels that the guttering flames of the carriage-lamps threatened to burst forth and consume the tinder and kindling set forth by the slumbering metropole even as it moistened the brow of one Cecil Coulmore, the contusions and contours of whose skull made phrenologically clear his profession as gentleman detective and amateur pugilist.

Check out this month’s other bloggers, all of whom have posted or will post their own responses:
AuburnAssassin
dolores haze
xcomplex
Proach
BigWords
jkellerford
Ralph Pines
Euclid
Diana Rajchel
pezie
Guardian

 

June 27, 2011

From “Queenie’s Secrets” by Shelley “Neva” McKenzie

Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: , , |
Leave a Comment 

“The secret to looking young is quite simple, really,” Queenie said. “You must first be a pimply and pale teenager. I guarantee you that those finely tanned and toned cheerleaders of yesteryear are like old leather suitcases by now.”

“That…doesn’t make any sense.”

“Think about it, dear!” Queenie cried. “What’s in that goo you so desperately smear? Moisturizers and oils to replace that which your skin no longer produces. The sun dries you out like wash on the line and leeches those precious oils and moisture away, leaving you to sag like a post-Viagra codpiece. By being pale and burning easily, you have no incentive to sun-worship, which leads those teen idols to burn off their beauty and youth so early. Pimples are an expression of excess skin oils and moisture; with a deeper reservoir from which to draw, what losses there are aren’t crippling. You pay for it in high school, dear, but in twenty years’ time you’ll have youth aplenty while those you once envied are crocodile suitcases. It worked for me.”

 

June 26, 2011

From “Z.E.T.A.” by Maxine P. Lang

Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: , , , |
Leave a Comment 

“Is it true that there are actual voodoo zombies that are living but nevertheless enslaved?”

The late Mr. Crenshaw adjusted his tie and his lolling jaw. “That’s a reckless exaggeration. The so-called voodoo zombies are simply a combination of cultural belief, hypnosis, and narcotics. We true zombies argue that attaching the term to anyone still living is ignorant and divisive. I can take another question.”

“I’m still not clear on the whole ‘flesh of the living’ thing. Can you clarify?”

A noise that might have been a sigh escaped Crenshaw’s bloated lips and he rolled his bleary eyes. “For the last time: like any other creature, zombies require sustenance. Just like the living, we must eat that which was once alive to survive.”

“But does it stop being alive when you hunt it down and kill it, and is it people?”

“I thought we’d been over this. Look, most anything will satiate our hunger for flesh. There’s no danger if you’re smart about things, and there’s no need to fly off the hook. Come up here and I’ll show you.”

The persistent questioner, after a moment’s hesitation, climbed up onto the dais and approached Crenshaw. He held out a discolored hand for her to shake. She took it, and squealed in terror as Crenshaw’s iron grip brought her into his waiting jaws. A few people in the front rows were splattered with what could only be termed leftovers.

“In sum, there’s no danger if you’re smart about things,” Crenshaw continued between bites of coed. “I think we have time for one more from the audience.”

 

June 13, 2011

From “The Periodic Table of Deerton Middle School Students” by Therese Schmidt

Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: , , , , |
Leave a Comment 

With 115 seventh-grade kids split between the five class periods that made up an average day at Deerton Middle School, a project based on the 116 elements then known to exist (according to the out-of-date table that had come with the chemistry classroom). But there was reason to suspect that old Mr. Lancaster had influenced the element assignment process among wags.

Exhibit A was Boyd Carruthers, who had been assigned no. 82, lead. Anyone who had witnessed Boyd in class or in the cafeteria had no doubt that in all things he was heavy, malleable, and slow. And flighty little Tina Hedstrom in third period being slapped with no. 2, helium, seemed entirely too pat–to say nothing of bony Theresa DiSanto, on the wrong end of a growth spurt, earning no. 20, calcium.

But the plan (if there was a plan) had its more esoteric aspects as well. Caleb Schmidt was granted no. 43, technetium. There didn’t seem to be any connection b’tween that unstable and roguish element and the normally quiet and staid Caleb, until one took into account his recent behavior. Socializing, speaking up in class, trying out for the track team, even unsuccessfully courting Emily Dinklage for snowcoming…like Technetium he was arriving late to the game but making a splash. Quiet, meek, average students like Cara Joyce, who sat in the back and never spoke or made waves or did anything other than make steady unyielding eye contact, tended to get slapped with transuranic elements in Lancaster’s plan (if it was a plan). Cara got Unununium, an element no one without a degree in particle physics could say much about and one that nobody but perhaps the head of IUPAC could pronounce correctly.

Lancaster thus got Cara Joyce up for a brief presenation with a word that would take as long to spit out as anything she’d be saying afterwards.

 

June 6, 2011

From “Benny’s Movies” by S. Q. Ingrhamm

Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: , , |
Leave a Comment 

One of the other things Benny would do to impress us was give detailed plot summaries of R-rated movies that our parents wouldn’t let us watch. This was predicated on the solid supposition that a parent who put their kid through the rigmarole of Scouting was probably unlikely to be one that let their kids watch Skinemax as soon as they could hold the remote.

It didn’t matter that Benny’s own parents wouldn’t let him watch R-rated movies either. He just made it up as he went along.

Listening to him in the back of a minivan or on a fishing boat, we were enraptured by Benny’s highly intricate stories. Looking back, it’s actually kind of hilarious. He maintained that Total Recall was about a man who dreamed he killed his sister, only to wake up from the dream and have it really be true. Not sure where the gunfights and Mars fit into that, but I for one assumed that it was all stuff Arnold did to try and rescue his sister. Benny also claimed that It, that gold standard for horror for kids of the mid 80’s, was about a secret government program to produce homicidal monster clowns (which sounds about as reasonable as Stephen King’s tale of pandimensional spider shapeshifters, really).

 

May 31, 2011

From “Secret Dragon Fantasy IV Strategy Guide” by Carl Woosterson and the Leetgames Editorial Team

Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: , , , |
[2] Comments 

***Characters***
Name: Variant
Sex: M
Age: 15
Weapon: Big-Ass Sword
Birthday: February 30
Catch Phrase: “…”
Favorite Dish: Sashimi
Favorite Literary Device: the metaphor

Our hero, the reluctant savior of the world. Hailing from the tiny peasant village of Dedmeet, Variant is a professional soldier that has returned home after five years of decorated service in the Imperial Army, where he rose to the rank of Colonel. Doesn’t like to share his feelings with others, and doesn’t like straightforward explanations. You must have him in your party at all times, since the other characters like to hang around in his coat pockets, leaping out only when they have something to say.

Name: Joy
Sex: F
Age: 15
Weapon: Handbag
Birthday: April 1
Catch Phrase: “Sooo cute!”
Favorite Semi-Obscure Adjective: Ferbile
Favorite Poker Hand: Two Pair

Our heroine, the bubbly yet mysterious wandering princess. Exiled from her home in Veakling Castle by the Imperial Army, she is traveling incognito throughout the world to gather support to take it back, and is also interesting in running up an enormous debt on the Royal Credit Card before it expires. Possesses a mysterious pendant of mystery that may hold the key to saving the world as we know it. Also taught advanced quantum physics as professor emeritus at Veakling University

Name: Hatchet
Weapon: Axe
Age: 18
Birthday: June 28
Catch Phrase: “Cut it off!”
Favorite Mystery Food Additive: Sodium penthalazorbate
Favorite Disease: Gout

The battle-scarred old veteran of ten years in the Imperial army and war buddy of Variant. Is rather hardheaded and occasionally slow, and his first instinct is to chop first and ask questions later. Once you get past his berserker rage and chop-lust, he’s really quite a sensitive, caring guy.

Name: Fitzbang
Weapon: His rod.
Age: 17
Birthday: April 31
Catch Phrase: “What’s in it for me?”
Favorite Cliche: Deus Ex Machina
Favorite Meat Consistency: Medium rare

The former Grand High Total Head Mage of the Imperial Magic Academy, kicked out in disgrace five years ago. Has become bitter and selfish in his old age, and now sells his powerful magic skills to the highest bidder. Hired by both the Empire and its enemies, he won’t hesitate to change sides if even the possibility of slightly more money is involved. Is an accomplished poet and novelist with a keen sense of dramatic irony as well as a nihilist and a vegan.

Name: Pootikins
Weapon: Atomic fluff balls
Age: 2
Birthday: Dec 31
Catch Phrase: “Pootikins!”
Favorite Salad Dressing: Ranch
Favorite Blender Setting: Puree

A secret character, only recruitable after completing a lengthy side quest after the fall of Whokarez but before the death of Xpendble. Place the chest on the pressure plate in the third level of the Clay Caves before opening it, and choose “yes” when the dialog box pops up. Pootikins isn’t very talkative–he (she?) can say only his (her?) own name, and Atomic Fluff Balls are hard to come by. Better skip this one.

Name: Kephija
Weapon: Long-ass Sword
Age: Unknown
Birthday: Unknown
Catch Phrase: “Unknown.”
Favorite Variable Mortgage Rate: Unknown
Favorite manner of faster than light travel: Unknown

The right-hand man of the Imperial Emperor of the Empire himself, and a total mystery. No one knows where he came from who he is, his shoe size, or anything else. Is an extremely capable soldier, able to defeat entire armies with a wink of his eye and a toss of the head. Joins you only briefly, just before the confrontation with the Omninoob.

 

May 28, 2011

From “The Snooze Button of Gotul” by Dewey R. Swanson

Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: , , , , , |
Leave a Comment 

Nevertheless, out of all the Great Cosmic Beings who ruled the earth in the Darkened Ages Past, it was Gotul who attracted the most interest. Gotul, He-Who-Sleeps-In-Darkness, was the primary Being mentioned in the ancient sources, and the one to which the various cults which tended to arise often devoted themselves.

In the old days, when the cultists vanished, it was ascribed to a variety of causes. Perhaps He-Who-Sleeps-In-Darkness had taken his faithful to the paradise of nonbeing where he was reputed to reside. Perhaps his wrath had been invoked and he had destroyed the flies that buzzed about him. Perhaps the cultists had found their supplications unanswered and had moved on to more lucrative yet still evil endeavors, such as law practice or civil service.

That ambiguity had the natural effect of encouraging another cult to sprout up, once collective memory had selectively forgotten the worst parts of the story and the occasional bloody torsos that remained behind. As such, when the latest Cult of Gotul arose in the 1970’s, its disappearance on March 23, 1976 was accompanied by a press release on behalf of Gotul issued by Featherby, Brooke & Whitmire:

“Please cease any and all attempts to contact, raise, or invoke Gotul, also known as He-Who-Sleeps-In-Darkness or Foremost-Among-Great-Cosmic-Beings. He is, as his name suggests, very sleepy and would prefer to remain asleep and unmolested in retirement. Those who disregard this warning do so at the risk of being subject to an automatic Ritual of Rending Annihilation. Gotul reminds would-be cultists that the reality of the Darkness would rend in twain the sanity of any mortal who beholds it, and suggests devotees find a less overwhelmingly fatal outlet for their spiritual energies.”

 

May 27, 2011

From “Galactic Exchanged” by C. Jude Chen

Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: , , , , |
Leave a Comment 

The fact that the Exchange is, well, totally and completely illegal makes things a bit tricky as far as compensation is concerned. Electronic currencies can be tracked: even though the Exchange’s network is not connected to the hypernets, investigators are always sticking probes and eavesdroppers of all sorts in our business.

So everything is done in cash or barter, probably one of the only places around where that’s still true. The fuzz can only tell that someone converted their currency to cash, not what they bought with it. That lends a nice air of plausible deniability that keeps business booming for sentients from 113 official polities and dozens of unofficial ones.

Guess who gets to convert all those currencies into Exchange scrip, by hand?

“I need forty Confederate Riyals in scrip!”

“How much can I get for seven Commonwealth Bits?”

“Why does the sign say no transactions of more than twenty-five Ethereal Shekels are allowed? All I have is fifty!”

“My ten thousand Planetary Suzeranity Units are only worth two Exchange scrips?”

“I need eighteen Violet Republic Talents changed, even though our glorious and beloved Republic is only recognized by a single independent asteroid!”

 

May 26, 2011

From “The Pizza Catch” by Quig B. McWhalen

Posted by alexp01 under Excerpt | Tags: , , , |
Leave a Comment 

There was only one catch and that was the Pizza Catch, which specified that no matter how much concern for one’s fellow eaters’ culinary requests, the person who ordered the pizzas would always order several with their favorite toppings. They were always toppings which no one in their right mind would ever like: anchovies and olives, onions and egg whites, marshmallows and bell peppers. Yet every gathering would have 2-3 such monstrosities, and the person who ordered them, unable to comprehend that their deviant choices weren’t widely shared, would eat a single slice and refuse to take any home.

No matter how fervently I argued time and again that cheese or pepperoni pizzas had the best statistical chance of pleasing the most people, the Pizza Catch would come into effect. People would duel over the single pepperoni pie while the three boxes of olive, onion, Canadian bacon, and pop tart pizza would lie untouched save a single slice. If you ordered the pizza, you enjoyed mutant toppings but refused to eat them–a paradox worthy of Yossarian. I was usually hampered in my quest to be the orderer by the fact that I was flat broke and relying on other peoples’ generosity, but the Pizza Catch was such that even if I did manage it, I wound up with a crowd of vegan and fruitarian eaters, who weren’t crazy about the thousands of innocent wheat stalks killed for their meal and certainly wouldn’t countenance anything as barbaric as cheese.

 

« Previous Page — Next Page »