Short story: Aron and Claire Play

Here's a short story featuring two of my writing buddy's characters. Aron is a stuck-up rather racist prince in one book, and Claire is a lesbian heroine in another. Here they cross worlds to play a video game together and do a little math.

But first, on a completely different note, did I ever mention that I was in a house fire in April? Yeah, it was loads of fun. I wrote a story about it featuring Oroka, a Manga character who's afraid of being locked in the refrigerator. That's a stab at the assinine tendency of some authors to create a female and then kill her and lock her in a fridge as a cheap plot device. I want to sell the story before I post it, but here's an excerpt:

"Come on, Oroka" Nakama said consolingly. "Don’t be afraid. No one’s going to lock us in your refrigerator. I noticed it’s a Maytag," she said with false cheer. "Your kitchen is probably just on fire." 1.6 millions Maytag refrigerators were the subject of a recall due to fire hazard. Oroka relaxed a bit. "Maybe it’s even not that," Nakama continued. "Maybe it’s your Maytag dishwasher." 1.7 million Maytag dishwashers were subject to a separate recall, again due to their propensity to catch fire in the middle of the night. Oroka wavered.

Anyway, house fire. The smoke alarm never went off. It was pretty exciting. If my brother hadn't happened to be awake preparing for work when the fridge caught fire at 5 am, we'd probably all be dead. Thank you, Maytag. Thank you, whoever manufactured the smoke alarm. Here's an article on how to select a smoke detector that might possibly do its job: LINK

Oh yeah, later that month I walked into my kitchen to find my Maytag dishwasher had been stuck on the dry cycle for about six hours. Isn't that great? And now back to our regularly-scheduled post:

Aron and Claire Play

"Baser, I'm going to kick your--"

Aron squaled when Claire kicked his shin, then they both concentrated on the game, Aron smug that he could beat any Asian at a driving game, Claire focused on the task at hand.

Aron could have kicked himself when drove his souped-up cyber Civic into the grocery store. Claire crowed and won with a new high score.

"I can't believe it!" Aron screamed. "Here I am in my ninth year of live and I can't beat my inferiors!"

"I didn't know you were eight years old," Claire said.

"I'm nine, like you, stupid," Aron said.

Claire looked at him coldly. "When you were just born, were you starting your first year of life?"

"Of course, moron."

"And how old were you when you were just born?" Claire asked. Aron stared at her. "Zero. So, when had your first birthday, you were starting your second year of life. So after your eigth birthday, um, when you turned eight"-- she looked at him like he was a mentally deficient bug—"you were starting your ninth year. So if you're nine years old, you're working on your tenth year of complete stupidity. Congratulations."

She walked away. "Learn to count, then learn to drive," she said over her shoulder.



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Sparkle Threw Us Together

My story is now available on The Long and Short Review. Learn how cat barf can bring two lost lovers together.

Don't you think this is the cutest little graphic they made for my story? I love it! Pin It Now!

Short story: Blondhilda Saves SCB

Here's Blondhilda, the graphic novel warrior goddess-turn real goddess saving her creator, artist and author Stanley Chester Brown.

Blondhilda and the Hydra

Blondhilda and the Hydra

"Look, I don't know," the woman's voice said. "The car started, okay? I don't need a jump anymore. Just get him into your car and go!"

Blondhilda gunned the engine and the powerful motorcycle surged. The hostage was out in the open desert, just over the rise ahead, his cellphone transmitting his kidnappers' conversation through Blondhilda's headset.

"Alright—get in here, you," a male voice said. Blondhilda heard a door slam. "What are you waiting for?" the same voice shouted, seemingly to the other driver. "Go!" Blondhilda came over the ridge and spotted the cars. A yellow sedan on the left and a red on the right, so close they almost touched. Each suddenly accelerated in opposite directions.

Blondhilda had to choose which one to follow.

"What the--" the male voice said. "You've got a cellphone!" There was the sound of a sharp blow and a yelp of pain. The phone bounced off the floor. "You think I can't shoot you and drive at the same time?" Feedback stung Blondhilda's ear as an explosion came through. The man cursed. "As soon as I get this gun unjammed, I'm blowing your head off." More curses and muffled thumps; then the phone went dead. In seconds Stanley Chester Brown would be dead too.

Blondhilda expertly twitched her machine to the left and gained on the yellow car.

* * *

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Another story about Pope Xeter

As you know, the evil Pope Xeter (from my writing buddy's scifi world) killed Soo-Soo, the cat. Here's my take on Pope Xeter.

The Pope's Fall

"Watch Soo-Soo, my lord!"

Pope Xeter didn't, and thus tripped on the sacred cat and fell down the stairs. His realistic pompadour flew off as his head struck the railing. Panicked, he stuck out his arm to catch himself, but it caught between two of the banister's vertical supports. A crack echoed as a damasked-covered bone snapped. Prone, feet pointed downward, the Pope slid down remainder of the stairway, friction causing his elaborate costume to ride up, exposing his bare backside to the assembled Court and also causing certain damage insuring he would produce no further hereditary heirs.

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Story: The Tablet

The challenge was to write a story in six sentences in my writing buddy's SciFi world. I've changed the names so that when you buy his upcoming best-selling books, I won't have tainted them. Here's the backstory: Pope Xeter is an evil, evil guy--he killed Soo-Soo the cat. Now his daughter's pregnant by her illicit boyfriend....

The Tablet

"It'll be okay, Kender; go tell him."

Kender took Margina's small dark hand in his large pale one and kissed it. The idea that their baby was growing in her womb almost overwhelmed him with its sacredness: their love had created a new soul.

But her father...Kender thought of the hundreds Pope Xeter had murdered for committing miscegenation, the thousands he had tortured to death for fornication, and now Kender had committed both sins with the Pope's very daughter.

Margina pressed a white tablet into Kender's hand; he looked at her tenderly and raised his eyebrows in a gentle question.

She smiled at him and explained, "Cyanide--just in case you're a sissy about being tortured." Pin It Now!