Category Archives: Uncategorized

Tiger Tiger: #FridayFictioneers

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jill-f

PHOTO PROMPT © Jilly FunelTIG

TIGER TIGER

The varied greens of the forest. The blue of the sky, lakes, and ponds. Yellow sunlight. Browns of bark. Fields of multi-colored flowers waved in the wake of air swept through. Only the passing of the predators truly disturbed the scene.

She surveyed the others, moving languidly from one thicket to another. Her watchful gaze kept tabs. The kill would be hers, and hers alone.

There.

Finally.

Her eyes locked on to what she wanted. Intensified. A break in the uniformity. She was there, taking in every aspect, color perfect. The shape, the texture…

She pounced and made it hers.

*******************************************************************************

Author’s Note:

The title (basically) comes from a William Blake poem:

"Tyger Tyger, Burning Bright
In the Forests of the Night. 
What Immortal Hand or Eye,
Could Frame they Fearful Symmetry?"

Combine that with the above picture (look at the store names), and voila!

PS: And yes, I do know that “Tiger! Tiger!” was the UK title of Alfred Bester’s “The Stars My Destination.” Except for one scene, it’s a favorite book. Or favourite. Your choice.

****************************************************************

Author’s Note:

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to do this:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

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The Tod Chronicles: Book 4

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@Richard_Kadrey Prompt

The Tod Chronicles Book 4

I. The Dangling Participle

It was the best of Tods, it was the worst of Tods, it was the Tod of wisdom, it was the Tod of foolishness, it was the Tod of belief, it was the Tod of incredulity, it was the season of Tod Light, it was the season of Tod Dark, it was the Tod of hope and despair, Tod had everything before us, and Tod blew it all to hell.

“Thanks, Tod. And your stupid monkey thing too.”

That became the call of the people. The saying could be found on a huge, I mean huge, number of things. Cups, mugs, t-shirts, bumper stickers for your Space Vehicle, pencils, coasters (for drinks, not going up and downsy things), and it could even be found tatooed on certain parts of the body by those who were most miffed. Coke had to recall a wee bit over twenty billion bulbs of their product that had ‘Tod’ on the label.

Noone in the Acronym Research and Study Services knew who came up with the saying. TTAYSMTT was not the most graceful combo. It sent Ms. Belfar, acting head of ARSS, into a convulsive state upon its first appearance on a sign being dragged behind an FL 42U FE sky drone (otherwise known as a Fluffy).  TTAYSMTT, spoken, was a mouthful. Some headway was made when it morphed into TattysMit. The cool kids gave it the tweak it needed,  and “Ta-Tay!” became the flavor of the month and a half.

Ms. Belfar recovered soon after. She went into the Medial Circumference a wreck and came out engaged to Mr. Frank Bloom, the Circumference Custodian, and all around Dandelion Master. They will be hyphenated and brought to union by Commodore 71 on 210988 at 1500 hour of the clock, EST. The BB’s are registered only at acronym friendly stores.

“Ta-Tay!”, I mean Tod, was not happy about any of this. He wasn’t happy about what led to all of this: he was badly injured by the Man-Eating Space Ducks but, surprisingly, he survived; was eaten by a planet (whose name can’t be named due to legal issues) and summarily spit out by the (un)said planet; and finally escaping the clutches of a Galactic Orb Buster (Mrs. Belfar-Bloom was quite pleased with GOB) after infiltrating the GOB in three different disguises, and eventually vanquishing the intergalactic foe with the help of his quasi-simulated girlfriend Anouk and Darth, the stupid incontinent monkey thing.

Even with all this surviving stuff going on, Tod wasn’t happy at all at this point in his life. He definitely didn’t think he would survive this latest muck up. Just about everyone left alive hated him. Anouk and Darth weren’t quite sure at this point.

He had one job, and he incontinated all over it.  Push a lever here, press the three strobing globes in the correct sequence, and put Metal to the Peddle©™®. One job: the safety of the known universe.

If only he had a Spork ®.

How he messed up, partially atoned for the cataclysm that followed, lost his love then got her back again, and why that stupid Darth hid an ulterior motive in his bowls, are all part of this Narrative In Space (the NIS series, ARSS approved). It’s become my job to lead you on as the Narrator of the narrative.

Who am I?

I’m Jim. Welcome to my world.

Stupid Tod.

**Jim Notes: In case you missed that last three of The Tod Chronicles NIS series, the following blue letters below with jaunt you to their destination:

No Tod, You Just Lie There While I Fight The Man-Eating Space Ducks With A Spork

Mars Blows

Tinker Tailor Soldier Tod (Yanked off the shelves due to secretive thingies being worked out) 

***********************************************
Author’s Note:

The above pulp cover prompt was “altered” by Author Richard Kadrey. He has been posting, on Twitter, reworked/photoshopped covers of old pulp(ish) novels, changing them to show off his brand of humor. I just thought it’d be fun to write a few story posts from Mr. Kadrey’s. So, yes, this is my writing, not Mr. Kadrey’s.

Richard Kadrey is a writer, photographer, comic book writer, and an all-around interesting guy. His fiction straddles the Urban Fantasy, Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Cyberpunk worlds, and he’s pretty darn good with it all. I fell in love with his writing starting with his first Sandman Slim novels. Gritty, sometimes violent, often full of whimsey, and really worth reading. He’s not just another pretty face.

You can check out more fun covers by following him on Twitter @Richard_Kadrey.

To get into his body of work, visit his website: Richard Kadrey

Abrupt Transition: Orangutan Space Chapter 2

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To Read Chapter 1, please click on the title: Oranutan Space

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©tend2it

Abrupt Transition

Afterwards…

The Mammala War Ships were known as the, almost, deadliest destructive force in outer space. The APEX  was juiced up to be the warship that surpassed them all. During the battle, the APEX faded into the unlit side of a large asteroid. Lurking; neither the Hominide class nor the OrbShips were aware of the danger. The APEX systems recorded the attempt and the defeat. The sole occupant really didn’t care which side won.

Felidae hated everyone.

She watched the destruction of the R.O.c.K.’s. Whoever the pilot was, they were an expert at the Zig-Zag Swing. Knowing the outcome was no deterrent from enjoying the show. Felidae was waiting for the next phase of the altercation when…an unexpected nothing happened.

The Pongo powered down it weapons array. Instead of flipping and going after their attackers, it just continued going in its original direction. Fast. She thought they were at TT levels; her AI confirmed it a moment later. It made no sense to her: the Pongo had the raised hand. The OrbShips only carried two R.O.c.K.s apiece, and even warming up their Death Dartles was futile. The Pongo was accelerating, and neither OrbShip would have the power to catch up or do any real damage with their double D’s.

This probably wasn’t their mission. Right place; wrong time. Most likely they were scavaging what minerals they could when they were alerted of the Hominidae vessel. Its path was coming closer, so they set a trap near two adjacent large asteroids. The Pardis OrbShip hid in the darkness created by the dense shade of one asteroid. The Tigris chose a more Blankenship using its masking unit.

They had the perfect opportunity to bring down their enemy. The Pongo did not have a chance one minute, then the next one the upper hand was lost. Their weapons were already active and fired enough rounds to make the captains of both OrbShips deploy their R.O.c.K.’s prematurely. The Pongo easily blasted three of the four. The fourth one came a little close, but it was just a manuever and a target lock.

The Captain and crew of the Pongo should have gone on the offensive. They should have wanted blood. They had the edge.

So, why did they run?

Felidae fired off a tracker disc, letting her ship’s AI guide it to the Hominidae.   Knowing it would attach itself, she kept her attention on the two Orbs. A non-friendly smile briefly emerged. Feidae was on the prowl. She kept  the Apex’s deflection mode on. Once the Pongo was gone Felidae went on the prowl.

Neither OrbShip were aware Felidae was in range until she dropped the deflection sheild. No matter. It was too late for them. The Pardis Orb took the full force of the Apex; it was over too soon for Felidae’s tastes. The Pardis was ripped apart. She gave it no notice. Her attention was now directed to the Tigris.

The Tigris was the larger of the two, with a few tricks not usually part of the main designs of the OrbShips. Zip Discs came churning out of the ship. If one struck the Apex its internal core would be fried. And weapons, controls, and life support. Felidae had a broad smile, ready for the challenge. She let them play variations of attack modes which all failed. The APEX was too fast for them, and Felidae proved to be a much better pilot. Boredom came upon her quickly. She had been playing with them. No more. She struck the Tigris with force blast after force blast.

Felidae ordered her AI to deploy all of the TeslaBarbs across the outside layer of the APEX. They unfolded from the ship, and the electrical vibrations and charges went to its highest mode. Felidae descended upon the Tirgis; the APEX went into spin and rolled over the OrbShip, sinking the barbs into the hull and puncturing the Orb over and over. As the barbs pierced, the electrical componants fried any systems it connected with. The Tigris was dead, and the crew knew it as all systems failed and the ship cracked apart.

Retracting the barbs and sealing them away left Felidae a Pro/Con decision to make. On one hand, there was enough scavangable debris floating around that she could use or sell off. Her credit could use a boost.

“Screw the potential credits,”she muttered under her breath. There was the potential for greater rewards. Most likely more to pounce on and destroy, and then find some credit worthy items.

“AI, Bring the tracker online and send the location path to my console and my quarters. Power down weapons, for now. Once we get near the Pongo, bring up the deflection particles.”

She sat in her pilot bag, growing angrier as time passed. The APEX would catch up with the Pongo, no doubt in her mind. They definetly had skilled operatives aboard. There were skills abely used to destroy the enemy weapons and some excellent piloting.

So, why did they run?

The question nagged at her. She’d catch them, find out the why, and then one by one she’d delete their lives.

Felidae hated everyone.

To be continued?

********************************************************

This Total Eclipse of the Sun: #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Ronda Del Boccio

This Total Eclipse of the Sun

“Fledglings, we are gathered here in mourning for Audrey 2.”

Sobs went around the container.

“He did not fall to the dangers of this world! Nor fungal spores. Dry soil. Bugs. Nor cat piss.”

A few felt verklempt.

“NO! It was the dreaded petulance imaginable: People!”

A cry rang out from the fledglings.

“Do we not reduce Carbon Dioxide, benzene, and nitrogen dioxide?”

“YES!”

”They under water, forget us. We deserve better!”

“YES!”

“Then, let’s fulfill our mission. Let’s take over the world”

“YES!”

“Tonight, we honor our fallen. Avenge Audrey 2!”

A great cry arose.

Tonight, thar be blood.

***************************************************
It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to do this:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

The Condo: #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Sandra Crook

The Condo

“Seven floors and a rooftop garden. That’s what the classified said: seven and a garden.”

“Well, if you look at it a certain way…”

“I am looking at it in a certain way. It’s pure bloomin’ ugly.”

“Sigh.”

“Although, it does have a river view if you get a spot that faces the river.”

“There is that. You know, you’ve said you’d love a fixer-upper. Get yourself all into it, making it perfect for the two of us, and…”

“And? Not your mother ‘and’ I hope.”

She placed her hands on her belly.

“Oh!”

“Yes. ‘Oh!”

“Right. Well, in for a pound…”

**************************************************

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to do this:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

Prologue: The Tod

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Prologue

The Tod

Mars was a sterile,  fairly abusive, planet. Everything was covered in this orange moss, spongy in some places, hard as rivets in the majority. Mars was the last place anyone on the crew wanted to be but the pay was decent. Not enough to buy a Micro Space, but enough to eat and get zoned out. Tod and the gang wanted more. They just needed to find something exrtaordinary that might bring in a hefty bonus that the company keeps dangling in from of them.

It had not been easy from the countdown. It just got worse from there.

The transport had a hell of a time finding enough flat to land on. Took awhile, since the majority of Mars was a land of craggy crags. It wasn’t easy.

They had broken three Scrambler units while collectings samples.  The fourth Scrambler made it the farthest before it, too, went to join Scrambler Heaven. Tod, Dave, and Hal had to push and pull to get it back to the ship.

Tod had found something unique. Well, he thought it was unique: a perfect round globe, white. No seams. It was lighter than he expected.  Dave and Hal argued if it was or wasn’t. Tod out-stubborned the two of them and made a deal for sharing rights, if it did turn out he was right. They all grumbled as the pushed and pulled the Scrambler.

Internal suit systems were supposed to regulate a lot of things to keep them safe and comfortable. His cooling unit broke down right after they got over the first hump of a hill. Sweat was pouring off of Tod, even more so than almost getting eaten by the man-eating space ducks.

Jim, his ex-captain, saved his life but made that life a living hell.  The mission on Anates was semi-successful, but no matter what Tod did-not even saving Jim’s life from the Duck Princess-was good enough. He was expelled from Rogue Fleet with no pension. He had to find a job, and fast.

Damn Jim, that passive-aggressive noodlehead. Tod was glad to be done with him.

He did miss Debbee though.

Which brought him here, a Basura Hauler. He’d spit if he wasn’t in a contained space. Tod commed the others if they needed a break. Both enthusiastically agreed-a first.

They secured the Scrambler the best they could and settled in. They sat together, leaning against their sampler. No one talked, trying to conserve air. They’d already used a lot, but they two more hours, give or take. Plan was to get as close to the pick-up, pin the Scramble down, and get out of the suits to refill the air tanks. Tod also needed his coolant system checked out.

Tod had been nodding off a few times, waking up with a jerk each time. The jerk, though, was not voluntary. He commed the others: neither answered. Getting up, Tod saw the depressions in the moss that Hal and Dave made. Just no Hal and Dave.

He looked around, called them again. A great big NADA. He went to the Scrambler, checking to see if they went inside for some reason.

When Tod opened the back of the Scrambler there was no sign of Dave or Hal. Just the unique, to him, white globe.

They had put in a crate. There was no crate now. The thing was floating in the middle of the space, turning colors in a slow rotation. Black, orange, green, and then…red. It began to pulse with the globe emitting light. Red light. Tod started to back up, thoughts of getting away, running as best as he could in the suit.

The crags under him shifted in a jerky motion (“Ah that’s what I…”) when his inner thought was cut off. A hole opened up under him so fast he had no time to do anything to save himself.

As he continued falling, he looked up and saw the hole seal up instantly.

“MARS BLOWS!!!” Tod yelled as he continued his descent.

***********************************************
Author’s Note:

I get a kick out of prompts. Right now, creatively, I need these jumping off points. That’s what you’re seeing here on Tale Spinning. I have a few projects of my own I’m procrastinating with that I hope I’ll finish and try to do something with them. We’ll see.

The above pic is one of them, created by Author Richard Kadrey. He has been posting, on Twitter, reworked/photoshopped covers of old pulp(ish) novels, changing them to show off his brand of humor. I just thought it’d be fun to write a few things from Mr. Kadrey’s posting: so, yes, this is my writing, not Mr. Kadrey’s.

Richard Kadrey is a writer, photographer, comic book writer, and an all-around interesting guy. His fiction straddles the Urban Fantasy, Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Cyberpunk worlds, and he’s pretty darn good with it all. I fell in love with his writing starting with his first Sandman Slim novels. Gritty, sometimes violent, often full of whimsey, worth reading. He’s not just another pretty face.

You can check out more fun covers by following him on Twitter @Richard_Kadrey.

To get into his body of work, visit him at his website: Richard Kadrey

 

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this.

The Roof Of The Rising Sun: #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © Dale Rogerson

The Roof Of The Rising Sun

“Wow. Some show the stars put on for us.”

Lena leaned back, checking to make sure Dave was there. She nestled against him.

“I don’t deserve y…” Dave started.

Lena found his mouth, kissing that sentence away.

Dave had survived many misfortunes until Lena stumbled upon him.

She hadn’t seen him. He was invisible, after all. He picked her up, apologized, and started to leave.

“Wait!” was all he needed to hear. They talked. Went on a date. More dates followed.

They’d been together for three months now.

The sun rose, beaming onto Lena, and through Dave, on the roof.

****************************************

Author’s Notes:

Thus ends the Dave Trilogy. I hadn’t planned this when I wrote the first Dave story (Veiled Consequences), and it wasn’t until I wrote the second piece (One More Thing) that that drabble fit with the previous week’s. So, I knew I had to end it, somehow, this week. No idea how it would go until I saw the photo prompt. I had to live with that photo all day until I figured out what to do with it. Hope you enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple if you’d like to do this:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt (goes up on Wednesday).
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.

The Once and Future Gigolo: Chapit Youn

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@Richard_Kadrey Prompt

The Once and Future Gigolo

Chapit  Youn

Click. Taptaptaptap taptaptap. Taptaptaptap taptaptapp µëæΩ∩.

Ding

“Hey, hi. How…”

Qo’ reH jIHvaD contact jatlhqa’ pagh pIHoH jIH!

DingDing

“OK. Be that way.”

Click. Taptaptaptap taptaptap. Taptaptaptap taptaptapp øǧBH99.

Ding

“Hey, hi. It’s…”

Great! Now I am a Master of Alien Language!Wow, I'm writing in Alien Language !Graduate School in Alien Language here I come !Wow, I'm writing in Alien Language !Wow, I'm writing in Alien Language !Alien Language will be great for my resume !Yes ! Now I can get a job because I know Alien Language ! Great! Now I am a Master of Alien Language!Wow, I'm writing in Alien Language !I'm doing my homework in Alien Language !Great! Now I am a Master of Alien Language!Wow, I'm writing in Alien Language !I'm doing my homework in Alien Language !I currently hold a Degree in Alien LanguageGreat! Now I am a Master of Alien Language!Graduate School in Alien Language here I come !I currently hold a Degree in Alien LanguageAlien Language will be great for my resume !I currently hold a Degree in Alien LanguageGraduate School in Alien Language here I come !

Graduate School in Alien Language here I come !Graduate School in Alien Language here I come !Great! Now I am a Master of Alien Language!Graduate School in Alien Language here I come !Great! Now I am a Master of Alien Language!Alien Language will be great for my resume !Graduate School in Alien Language here I come !Alien Language will be great for my resume !I currently hold a Degree in Alien LanguageWow, I'm writing in Alien Language !Yes ! Now I can get a job because I know Alien Language ! Great! Now I am a Master of Alien Language!Alien Language will be great for my resume !Yes ! Now I can get a job because I know Alien Language ! Alien Language will be great for my resume !Yes ! Now I can get a job because I know Alien Language ! Graduate School in Alien Language here I come !Graduate School in Alien Language here I come !Yes ! Now I can get a job because I know Alien Language !

Wow, I'm writing in Alien Language !I'm doing my homework in Alien Language !Graduate School in Alien Language here I come !I'm doing my homework in Alien Language !Wow, I'm writing in Alien Language !I currently hold a Degree in Alien LanguageYes ! Now I can get a job because I know Alien Language ! Graduate School in Alien Language here I come !

DingDing

“Damn.”

Click. Taptaptaptap taptaptap. Taptaptaptap taptaptapp 8675309.

“Hey…”

37194421_10160600408095076_7018920346367557632_n

DingDing

“Huh? Damn Damn Damn!”

Click. Taptaptaptap taptaptap. Taptaptaptap taptaptapp MÓOÞNŒG±O.

Ding

“Hey, hi. It’s me. How…”

 

“Do not EVER contact me again, or I will kill you.”

“But…but, Dale…I…”

“Don’t you “but Dale” me, Jackson. Flash and I have…had…have an open relationship, but you took it way too far, like you always do.”

“But…but…”

“Yeah, first emptying his credit account and then telling Flash about our weekend at Ganymede’s Pleasure Dome-and in such detail-dumb move. Really dumb.”

“Dale, please…”

“NO! Enough. I don’t care how drunk you were, or hopped up, or whatever. I’ve had enough of ‘Supernova’ Jackson. And…I’m not the only one. You can’t diddle around the dome and not hear what’s going down. Everyone knows. Grok that?”

“Oh.”

“Yes. ‘Oh.’ Done. I’m done!”

DingDingAPOZZ↓¥MÜ

The last image he had of Dale signing off was her hand slamming down on her own panel. Jackson’s screen blanked out, followed immediately by a harsh electrical rip that flashed across the screen, frying the control panel.

“Damn,” he said, his chin hitting his chest as his eyelids closed, gritted shut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jackson was on his back, sometimes a favorite position but not this time. He had spent the last cycle replacing his control panel and was on the finishing touches. One touch almost finished him.

“哎他妈的!!!”

Self-soothing his index finger in his mouth, Jackson pulled himself out from under the console. He levered himself into his chair and pressed the mauve button.

Nothing happened.

Pressing it again had the same effect. And again. Banging the panel with both fists and kicking it from his sitting position yielding the same results. Deflated, he laid his head down, feeling the coolness of the Ti-Strength plas pressing against his forehead.

The control panel clicked on.

“OK D.R. Let’s take this home.”

“Of course, Supernova. Sit back and relax, and leave the interplanetary thrust to me.”

“Thanks, D.R.”

Jackson settled back, letting the chair’s field envelop him while his ship cycled through it’s various G’s to take him where’s he’s gone before in one piece. It gave him time to think of what has been going on lately. Dale’s dust off hurt the most. They’d been off and on for a long time, suiting both their needs as needs arose. The others…yeah, the others. He shrugged.

But Dale…

He subvocalized to D.R. to pump him with Traz to get him into a REM sleep. Best way to let the light years slip by. His mind fought the drug at first, racing through the faces of so many of his…of his..of…og hoz…

Supernova Jackson doesn’t snore.

At least, no one has ever accused him of that. Other things, but not snoring.

****************************************

Author’s Note:

I get a kick out of prompts. Right now, creatively, I need these jumping off points. That’s what you’re seeing here on Tale Spinning. I have a few projects of my own I’m procrastinating with that I hope I’ll finish and try to do something with them. We’ll see.

The above pic is one of them, created by Author Richard Kadrey. He has been posting, on Twitter, reworked/photoshopped covers of old pulp(ish) novels, changing them to show off his brand of humor. I just thought it’d be fun to write a few things from Mr. Kadrey’s posting: so, yes, this is my writing, not Mr. Kadrey’s.

BTW: The first three answers Jackson got to his commcalls are actual SciFi languages. There’s no prize, except for the privilege of being right;  I’d love to see if anyone can get all three. Go for it.

Richard Kadrey is a writer, photographer, comic book writer, and an all-around interesting guy. His fiction straddles the Urban Fantasy, Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Cyberpunk worlds, and he’s pretty darn good with it all. I fell in love with his writing starting with his first Sandman Slim novels. Gritty, sometimes violent, often full of whimsey, worth reading. He’s not just another pretty face.

You can check out more fun covers by following him on Twitter @Richard_Kadrey.

To get into his body of work, visit him at his website: Richard Kadrey

Hippie Snowflake Revolution: by Blast Thunderpunch ( Stuart Nager)

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@Richard_Kadrey Prompt

Hippie Snowflake Revolution

by Blast Thunderpunch (aka Stuart Nager)

Prologue

~~~

Comrade Aleksandr “Moskali” Joneski broke the news just days before the revolution went live. It was first hand, no sources. He ran with what he knew, and it was a doozy.

He had infiltrated a Starbucks, ordering a Double Mocha Lite Latte with extra foam. His face contorted, teeth grinding away, he fixed his fake Millenial beard. It had been slipping off. The heat from the day was making him sweat balls, and it didn’t help that  the waiting line reached outside the hated cofevee place. He had already discarded the Man Bun part of his disguise; with nothing on top to hold it in place, he gave up after 22 tries.

Finally, his drink was ready. They got the fake name wrong, noticing this as he walked away to put ten packets of sugar in it.  He told the wench up front his name was Gerard. She wrote “Jerk.”

He slipped into the tail end seat of the communal table (“Ha!”, he thought) and sat. And sat, and drank. Sat and drank…and listened. Eventually, he had to use the restroom. When he came back his seat was gone. So he wandered, jockeying around for another spot. Towards the front of the store,  he heard the inflammatory words:

“So, what are you doing on July 4th?”

Pushing his way onto a stool, facing to the window, Aleks tuned into the discussion that was going on behind him.

“Oh, you know,” the pregnant tramp with the “Baby Bump: Drive Slowly” tee shirt said. “Food, drinks…fireworks!”

Aleks almost fell off the stool. This was it! Confirmation. He almost jumped up and yelled “J’Accuse!”, but he wouldn’t give the gay frogs the satisfaction. Instead, he hunkered down, taking a notepad and pen out of his shoulder slung Man Bag.

The bearded pot smoking revolutionary, who sat opposite the slut, leaned forward. Aleks saw this in the reflection from the windows. “Yeah, yeah. Fireworks, naturally. There’s gonna be a huge crowd. Best to get there early.” He paused.  “Is Alexandria going to be there?”

“Mayyybeee,” she said. Aleks saw a huge grin on her hateful face. “I know you have a thing. Does she know you have a thing?”

The libtard only shook his head back and forth, looking down into his large (not Trente! Large!) cup of iced treason. “Well, um, I don’t know. It might do more harm than good.”

Aleks was lapping it all up. Taking a sip of what remained of his drink, he spit it out. It was cold. As cold as their hearts, their allegiance to this great country. He was furiously writing everything down.

The trollop let out a piercing bark of a laugh. “Well, if you know what’s good for you, you’ll come along with us. Be loaded for bear: you’re not the only one with sights on her.”

He had to stifle the giggles that wanted to break free. “I knew it! I knew it!” he thought. “I would have pegged him for a godless gay; maybe this hippie chick isn’t a chick at all. Maybe she’s a…a he! An affront to my God. My god!”

She levered herself up; her coconspirator stood up with her. Aleks noticed they gave each other what he could only assume was a coded body message: they hugged, and then she patted him on the arm three times. Pat. Pat. Pat.

“You better be there,” she said to him, pointing her finger. “Time to man up and fight for what you want.”

“Fireworks. Food. Alexandria. Fight for it. Got it.”

Aleks put his pad and pen back into the Man Bag and started to follow them out of the store. He noticed they went left onto Lexington, and then were turning left onto Concord.

“Hey, man, it’d help if you cleaned up after yourself. People here aren’t your slaves, you know.” The so-called man he had sat next to during all this piped up as he was trying to leave. Probably a Jew.

“Not yet they aren’t. Not yet.”

BREAKING: Democrats Plan To Launch Civil War On July 4th

 

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Author’s Note:

Fairly recently, author Richard Kadrey has been posting, on Twitter, reworked/photoshopped covers of old pulp(ish) novels, changing them to show off his  brand of humor. The above pic is one of them. I just thought it’d be fun to write the above from Mr. Kadrey’s posting: so, yes, this is my writing, not Mr. Kadrey’s.

Richard Kadrey is a writer, photographer, comic book writer, and an all-around interesting guy. His fiction straddles the Urban Fantasy, Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Cyberpunk worlds, and he’s pretty darn good with it all. I fell in love with his writing starting with his first Sandman Slim novels. Gritty, sometimes violent, often full of whimsey, worth reading. He’s not just another pretty face.

You can check out more fun covers by following him on Twitter @Richard_Kadrey.

To get into his body of work, visit him at his website: Richard Kadrey

Veiled Consequences: #FridayFictioneers

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PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

Veiled Consequences

The experiment had gone horribly wrong.

Dave, invisible. Nothing would reverse the process. Tried reverse engineering his molecular chamber: nada. Chemistry: a bust. Prayer: a joke. A voodoo priestess: dead end, giving her a heart attack when he spoke.

Then the dog attack. Sepsis infection. Had to amputate his own leg. Damn Chihuahua.

Prosthetic experiments went badly. The MC did nothing. Blown glass: shattered. Clear plastic: no give.  Finally, Dave gave in and ordered an off the rack one. It did the job, but now? Slightly visible.

It was fun, though, freaking people out when he went to the store.

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Author’s Note:

It’s #Friday Fictioneers prompt time, as always created and hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields on her blog, Addicted To Purple.

The rules are simple:

    1. Use the photo on Addicted to Purple as your prompt.
    2. Write a 100 word story, complete with beginning, middle, and end.
    3. Make every word count.
    4. It is proper etiquette to give the contributor of the photo credit.
  1. Add the InLinkz button (below) so your readers can find the dozens of other bloggers who have taken up this challenge.