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Mission Regain Control and DoodleDerp Write Pokeyoo continued with its glaring and generally immature expressions directed at the utterly innocent wall for several seconds. Perhaps even minutes. Whatever the case was, there was indeed several of some form of time measurement involved. Eventually it decided to leave with much prissy princess muzzle pointed up in the air though.
Finally left with the Qwuedeviv declared, Foul Earth Wuff Menace once more, Spork rummaged through a most ominous looking assortment of equipment it had placed on the table with its tail. Meanwhile Mr. Wuff whose name was actually Wolfieface and beyond that, actually Lowell, but we are ignoring that fact with run on sentence, did nothing. Primarily and specifically because he could not readily get up—which is likely why he had stayed there any length of time. That or he was just dumb, both entirely possible. Anyway He watched with eyes—his eyes as a matter of fact. His very own pair of eyes of light blue color. The last fact of whic
The TouristThe tour had lasted the better part of the day and the hostess was beginning to grow tired of one of the tourist’s questions. He was constantly interrupting her spiels, speaking in an odd fashion, and seemed unnaturally preoccupied with the various superheroes of the city. Every time one of them was mentioned, he’d have a half-dozen or more questions about them. It was beginning to wear her down and she was glad that they were approaching the last stop of the tour, The Guardians HQ.
She plastered a big smile on her face and stood up from where she’d been sitting as the double-decker bus rocked back and forth after coming to a stop. “And last, but most certainly not least, here we have the Headquarters of Angel Falls most prominent super-team, The Guardians.”
The tour guide sighed inwardly and looked at the serious young man that was standing and looking at her. “Yes sir?”
“We were simply curious about the members
VirusThe flickering neon promise was the same as always, 'Rooms by the Hour' and underneath 'Vacancy'. I knew what I would find inside. The locks on the double front doors were burned away completely leaving a metre wide hole in the surrounding glass, soft bubbled edges that were very recently molten.
I pushed one door open with the barrel of my pistol and stepped into the lobby. The small room reeked of antiseptic cleansers layered with floral air conditioners. Neither masked the smell of roasted hair and flesh.
Behind the front desk a thin figure in a grey suit lay in an androgynous heap, head burned completely off. It wouldn't matter how fast the meat wagons got here, they could grow back an arm or a leg, scrape the latent personality and experience from the brain and reprint a clone if the kill turned out to be unrighteous, but without a head this life was lost for good. Working the front desk at a whore house, it was unlikely whoever it was could afford backup.
Up the stairs to the sec
Out For Blood [16/100]Name_ Voice Recording from Em No. 5
Location_Si Cluster, Planet Sirenios, Lirikla Beach.
Hey Little S! How's everything at the academy? Hope they're treating you well over there. What is it? 5 months left? It'll be over sooner than you know! Then I'll come pick you up and we'll go to Kerry's for a soda yea? Mom and Dad would be proud of you!
Sirenios is a beautiful place, the kind where you can just lie back and kick your shoes off. You would love it here under the warm sun, and I know you're chiding me for not wearing a full suit but sister's got a job to do. I know! You're probably shouting at the screen saying that I should be more conservative but it feels weird for one of my profession to not flaunt my body. Seriously, how do you stand it?
Oh ya, I've seen the latest pics people have posted of you and wow! Have you really grown that much? I mean, you used to be so flat that you looked like a boy! Haha!
Look, main thing is that I g
I'm Your Programmer"I turned- er, woke you up for the first time. I made- er, enabled you. I'm your programmer. And I apologize -- I'm still getting used to using language that refers to you as an entity rather than an object. Objectifying you would be absurd -- you're a person. I've just been working with circuits for too long."
"You make the proposition that you enabled me, but I do not recall the moment of being enabled," the intelligence said. "There are multiple ways to interpret the absence of data in my memory. It is just as possible that I have always existed, but have had my memory obscured. Perhaps you removed a memory bank."
"I did not remove a memory bank. This is the first time you have ever been awake. There is no way that you could have always existed, anyway -- your memory capacity is limited. It will dynamically purge itself as it gets too full.”
"How would you be able to know this?"
"The same thing happens to my brain. And I'm constrained by the capabilities of modern engineering.
Culpae Poenae Par Esto/ Let punishment fit crimeI want to write a story about a girl,
because I'm stuck in a box and the walls are emotions.
It is simply that reality scares me,
and I am afraid to look at the walls.
Logic and reasoning? Let me be clear. I am systematic in almost every theory. My approach is cut and dry, but what I say is not. A perfect balance of emotions and indifference, they say. But who are they?
I've worked, and worked, and worked on something, and now my memory fails me. What is it i have spent most of my life doing, and why am I so young?
It's the books, I think. They've gotten in my head. I've read too many pages, I've forgotten how two spel. All these words, different meanings--you can't read them without consequence, let me be clear.
Well. To start at the very beginning is where I fist remember. They started dumping books in my room, and they didn't stop. Now, I am high above the books. They make a sea like in Jules Verne's novel; the words swim around like sharks, waiting to taste my blood. Every time I r
Another Five Minute Feels! "Dada, where did mummy go?" Her sweet innocent eyes looked up at her father, brimming with a question he could not answer. "Why hasn't she come back yet?"
The father looked down at his little girl, feeling his throat tighten with a sob he couldn't let her see. "Darling, what did I tell you before?"
The little girl looked down, hands running over the fabric of her pink blouse. "You said she had to go away for a while. But it's been a bunches of days already. How come she hasn't come back yet?"
"Sweetheart, that's all I can--" his voice cracked. He turned around so his daughter wouldn't see the tears threatening to spill over onto his cheeks. He sniffled and wiped them away before turning back around. Leaning over to pick his girl up. She immediately leaned her head on his shoulder like she had done since she was a babe. "Mummy might not be back for many more days." He didn't want to reveal too much, but she h
Discrimination"The power of discrimination? I didn't think people admitted that so casually anymore. Are the wraparound sunglasses the new pointy-hoods?" Rick grinned and laughed at his own joke.
"Not that kind of discrimination dork."
"Then why do you call it that?"
Nolan gazed up at the ceiling counting to ten in his head. "Freshmen, they think they know everything already. For your knowledge powers terminology was developed almost a century ago."
"Whatev', what's it mean."
"It means. No, let me show you so you will actually understand. Hand me the note." Nolan pulled a white silk glove off his right hand and held it out for the note that had told Rick where to find him. Let it rest there for a moment before rubbing it lightly between finger and thumb. "Cellulose, silica, not enough fiber to really be rag paper but enough for a marketer to brag about it on the packaging." Lifting the note to his nose he pulled out a pair of nasal plugs and sniffed at it once. "Trace amounts of polyvinyl alcohol, w
It's Walky! Tribute FanficThe following passage is excerpted from the participation fanfic "Hair of the Ghod" from the summer of 2002. I hosted this fic on the FAANS! board on Yuku, attempting a crossover with It's Walky! and College Roomies From Hell!!! as well. It didn't work because we broke too many continuity rules and not enough writers were contributing.
The characters of Joyce, Jason and Alan are all from It's Walky! by David Willis. The character of FPilot is based on myself, but is different in circumstances and other manners from the version of myself in Chillin' Out. I'm basically a Q Branch techie here.
* * *
FPilot revealed: "Joyce, this is your new jet vest!"
Joyce said, "Mmhm. It doesn't look too different...other than the lining."
"Try it on."
As Joyce did, Jason asked, "So what's new about it?"
"The fan blades are of a new design and of a new material. It uses less fuel, so she has more time to fly before it poops out. It's also a little lig
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