Saturday, July 10, 2010

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Fifty Five

The specialized moves in the sport of Extreme Nerd Cagefighting are 'the Windmill', 'the Kick and Run' and 'the Slappy Shatner'.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Fifty Four

His wife just didn't understand him anymore, mostly because he refused to speak anything but Klingon.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Fifty Three

"I died and went to Valhalla," Hrothgar explained, "but it was like a popularity contest with broadswords."

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Fifty Two

Abner Deggent believed that you should speak softly and carry a big stick. And a handgun. And some dynamite. And condoms.

Friday, July 9, 2010

And Now Some WTF From The Dark Side Of The Force

(Recommended Reads) "Gratuitously" by Marisa Birns

Martha Frick sat on the edge of the yellow and orange flower-patterned chair Billy bought for five dollars at a yard sale and waited to accept condolences from the handful of mourners. The very chair where Billy was sitting when the stuffed and mounted moose head broke away from the wall and struck and killed him...

 

click here to read the rest

(Recommended Reads) "A Juicy Date" by Sarah Callejo

"You must take my word Grace, Matt is a fine young gentleman. He's kind and very bright. And he's a businessman, he's got his own fishmonger's"; she said talking to Grace and the rest of the customers, who nodded interestedly in return...

click here to read the rest

(Insane News) Man Claims Martians Dropped Him Off At A Strip Club

 

MADISON (WKOW) -- Police arrested a man from Racine after he slammed his SUV into Visions Night Club.

Officers say 50-year-old Keith Rasmussen was asked to leave the club after vomiting in the VIP area.  After that, witnesses told police Rasmussen got into his SUV, put it in reverse and slammed into the club's entrance.  Police say the entrance has significant damage...

...When police pulled up to Rasmussen's vehicle, an officer asked him how he was doing.  Rasmussen replied, "Not good," but he had "seen some nice strippers."

Rasmussen denied driving the SUV and claimed he arrived at the location thanks to help from "Martians."

 

click here to read the rest

Thursday, July 8, 2010

THE LOCAL HEROES: Mint Condition

Mint Condition
by
Al Bruno III



Everyone said this was no city for heroes that it was a city of lost opportunities and broken promises. Clusters of tiny homes separated by wide gulfs of foreclosed properties and long abandoned factories. Few people lived here by choice anymore, most were stranded here by economic or personal misfortunes. The ones that did live here by choice were either criminals or citizens hellbent on bringing River City back to its former glory.
Bill Kane was one of the latter, he been born in River City and after making his fortune in the energy drink business he had returned there, determined to make a difference. There were butterflies in his stomach that first night as he scaled the wall of the old Palisades movie theater. Once he was there he stared across the Hellenbeck River to Megalopolis- the sprawling, gleaming skyline of towers and twinkling lights, a city of high finance and outrageous rents, a city where the Legion of Protectors watched over the citizens like a pantheon of 4-color gods.
Those caped and masked guardians had long ago abandoned River City to its fate, they had more important things to concern themselves with than shellfish-themed crime syndicates and disgraced mad scientists. No one expected anything to be done about it, no one cared.
His hands were shaking when he stripped out of his street clothes to reveal red and blue tights with a matching cape. Not everyone could pull off tights, but Bill had spent years honing his body to the peak of physical perfection. No molded plastic bodysuits for him! He hoped the stylized logo on his chest with the its letter H inside of the letter C would soon become instantly recognizable.
There were some who went so far as to say that this was no world for heroes, not when there was a security camera on every street corner and in every store, not when the worst crimes were committed with accounting tricks instead of flying robots, not when fanatics and politicians murdered women and children in the name of democracy and a loving God.
The red cowl fitted neatly over the top of his head, the eyepieces had infrared capacity, there was an earpiece that allowed him to monitor police bandwidths and not only did it conceal his true identity but it covered up his premature balding. He ran his hands across his bulky utility belt making sure he remembered where everything was; there would be nothing more disastrous than grabbing shark repellent when you needed smoke bombs.
Law enforcement bureaucrats, ambitious politicians and newspaper editors frequently called the very nature of costumed men and women into question; ever since the 60's they had decried the rise of what they called masked vigilantes and hooded menaces. It seemed like once a generation there would be an attempted purge followed by some kind of crisis or another that would restore the status quo. It didn't matter the result was always the same-the most super-powered became more entrenched with the government and while the lesser known or more edgy daredevils and low-powered adventurers suffered the brunt of the public's suspicion and anger.
His street clothes were secured in an air duct. This would have to do until he got his headquarters completed. If he ever got his headquarters completed. What kind of contractor did you go to if you wanted to build a secret base? Bill stepped out onto the ledge of the Palisades movie theater's roof and stared out at the city. He told himself these were concerns for another time, he had to survive his debut first. Statistically speaking most costumed avengers died or suffered a critical injury on their first night.
Of course if his career prospered, death and dismemberment would be the least of his worries. The Hogan Principle stated that every masked avenger that appeared would lead to the creation of at least three super-villains, those arch nemeses that dwelt in the strange twilight between holding a grudge and stalking. There were also lawsuits for false arrests, property damage and the occasional hostage afflicted with emotional trauma to think about. Most of the major super-teams kept a cadre of lawyers on retainer, which usually led to them having to embrace merchandising and public appearances. That might be all well and good but how could you be expected to strike fear into the hearts of evil doers if they've already seen you cutting the ribbon at a mall opening? The only other option was robbing the villains you fought but that was even more of a slippery slope. These were the kind of things that led many to say that this was no age for heroes.
The earpiece hissed to life telling Bill about a robbery in progress just a few blocks away. He grabbed his grapple line from his utility belt-the third pouch to the right from belt buckle- and spun it over his head. The hook caught in a nearby flagpole and he paused for a moment.
The sound of sirens filled the air. He leapt from the roof taking a wide swing through the air and landing on a ledge on the opposite side of the street with practiced ease. In that wonderful and terrifying moment Bill Kane ceased to exist and Captain Hero made his way into the night and through what would soon be his city.

(Recommended Reads) "Albino Village" by Anthony Venutolo

When I saw the little girl my blood went cold and I instantly remembered that day from almost 30 years ago...

 

click here to read the rest

(Recommended Reads) "The Bluffs At Torrey Pines" by Michael J Solender

Bern was a meticulous planner often sketching out every contiguous detail. His current scheme, however, was born spontaneously in order to take full advantage of Natasha's proclamation that they were leaving for San Diego in the morning...

click here to read the rest

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Fifty One

Of all the super heroes in the world the powers of Dismembro were considered the most disgusting.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Fifty

Many suggested it about time that Mighty Woman updated her armored costume but she was very attached to it welded into it actually.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Forty Nine

Judy would have been better at witchcraft but she was a terrible cook.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Forty Eight

Pricing Paradox Protection kept people from buying time machines and using them to see time machines would go on sale.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Forty Seven

He quit his job by setting his pants on fire, he was always one for burning his britches.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Forty Six

He was very excited at the prospect of wife-swapping but then he found out he had to take his old wife back when it was over.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Forty Five

Lorelei was ready to face her evil twin from an alternate universe, she was not ready for the woman's ceaseless accordion playing.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Forty Four

The Maven deduced Limerick Master's true identity! He really was a young man from Nantucket! But the rest was all lies.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Forty Three

Abner Deggent tried to smuggle the stolen idol off the island by hiding it in his ass but the damn mule kicked the crap out of him.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Forty Two

Professor Lindquist spent a year running tests on sleeping fish only to discover that a dream is a wish your carp makes.

I just wanted to say thank you...

I was going over my analytics and realized that in the span of one year this blog has gone from an average of 30 visits per month to an average of 500. That's a lot of visitors and they can't all be from that Dave guy that stalks me...

I also have 117 subscribers and 60 followers which is just awesome.

Ten years ago I thought that my characters and stories were going to die with me but knowing that you folks out there have been reading and enjoying them means the world to me.

Think of it, each of you carries a little sliver of my dreams around inside your head now- kind of like a trichinosis infection but with bad grammar...

Anyway. I just wanted to thank you all. You make this crazy writing thing a lot less lonely.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Forty One

They are out of bread in the Wastelands but there is still plenty of ale; I will show you beer and a handful of crust.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

A quick note for some of the folks that commented on PANTIES HALF OFF part 5...

For some reason the blogger appears to have eaten some of the comments when I tried to publish them. If you are one of the folks did not see your comments appear please know that regardless of whatever errors the system threw at me I appreciated what you had to say.

Monday, July 5, 2010

In The Shadow Of His Nemesis chapter seventy one

In The Shadow Of His Nemesis


Chapter Seventy One


By AL BRUNO III




Saturday, December 4th 1996





By now the room was a shambles, every one of the dresser drawers had been emptied and then pulled out. Books had been unceremoniously yanked from their shelves and roughly shaken out before being tossed aside. Pictures had been taken from the walls and chairs had been overturned. Tarot cards were scatter throughout the room like a carpet of oversized confetti. After looking under the bed Jason Magwier had given up. Now he sat cross-legged on the floor with his head resting on his chin. “Destiny is like a room full of doors, some are labeled, some aren’t. Even if you think you know what you’re looking for you might not get what you expect,” his sighed, “I’ll tell her that someday but she won’t understand. She’ll think I’m being cryptic.”


Roxanne didn’t want to hear his rambling but she had awoken to find herself expertly hogtied and gagged. Her head ached and blood was slowly weeping from the gash on her head to smear on the carpet.


“It has to be you,” Magwier got to his feet, “you’re an outcast Lunt and an Oracle to boot.”


Roxanne watched him kick contemplatively through the piles of dresses and lingerie on the floor. “I wish I was an Oracle, so much simpler than seeing futures.”


One of the candles had burned its way down to the base of the candleholder, the flame sputtered clinging to life. The grandfather clock in the far corner of the room began to chime but Magwier had deliberately miss-set the hands rendering the hollow rings meaningless.


If she could just spit the gag out she would have given the loudest scream of her life but all she could do was squirm in place and silently will Jack to come to her room. She should have seen this coming. Hadn’t the Hanged Man and the Devil shown up in every tarot spread she dealt? Roxanne had just assumed the little twerp had come for someone, or something else.


Magwier stood in front of the mirror, glaring accusingly at his reflection. “What are you up to?” he asked with a voice that was quiet and rhetorical.


The familiar sound of wind chimes, the cries of the spirits bound to Laurel House began to echo through the hallways. Roxanne didn’t like the sound of them, tried to speak through the gag but she was ignored. Magwier was searching the room again going through every corner and closet with renewed fury. He as breaking things now, tearing things open and apart.


“Where is it?” he said, “it couldn’t have just walked off by itself! At least not that quickly....”


What is it? She tried to scream, What do you want?


“Hmmmmm... If I were a voco spurcamen where would I be?” He swept things from the writing desk to the floor, then bent to retrieve a letter opener. He prodded his index finger with the pointed end and puzzled at it, “A letter opener? What would you need a letter opener for here?”


Grinning he threw the letter opener up into the air embedding the pointed end into the ceiling. He admired his handiwork for a time then said, “What did the Monarchs promise you? Money? Power? Love?”


She glared at him as he drew closer his eyes full of menace and accusation. He said “Knowing you it must have been love. In the end love makes monsters of us all. I should know.”










5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Forty

Azathoth the lord of chaos pulsed to the sound of idiot piping, yet it found the sound of the vuvuzela pretty fucking annoying.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Thirty Nine

After twenty-five years of marriage the only thing that upset her more than her husband was the thought of living without him.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Thirty Eight

Abner Deggent grinned as the native girls undressed him, he had misheard when they said they were there to baste him.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Thirty Seven

To Lorelei the best part of magic was learning the secrets of the cosmos and using that knowledge to beat the crap out of someone.

5 Second Fiction One Thousand Four Hundred and Thirty Six

Supervillian Chef Julia Infant hated it when her pastry-based minions were called Doughnut Men she preferred People of Cruller.

Sunday, July 4, 2010

Panties Half Off part five

Price Breaks and Heartaches

A journal of retail and failed romance

Chapter Three

Panties Half Off

part five






...It was just another day in the nondescript city, none of the generic citizens heading into the local bank would ever have expected a bank robbery but our heroes were ready for it.


This bank got robbed every week.


A man wearing a dark fedora and a trenchcoat charged into the bank. He felled two of the henchmen with his wrist-mounted ice ray and then smirked, “I’m Frost and you two better cool off!”


The next man through the door wore a flashily colored hazmat suit. He shot waves of fast-acting bubonic plague from the palms of his hands. As another pair of thugs collapsed the man in the hazmat suit said, “Hi guys! I’m Patient Zero and I’ve got a feeling the urge to surrender is getting pretty infectious!”


Then the front window of the bank crashed inwards and a man wearing a pointy-eared cowl snarled at hostages and criminals alike. He pulled a sawed-off shotgun from beneath his flowing black cape and began firing wildly. “Die motherfuckers!” he screamed as the air was filled with screams and bloodstained deposit slips, “Diiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”...


*


I looked up from map covered with miniature cardboard super heroes, villains and ordinary citizens. Gordon was holding his CHAMPIONS rulebook against his chest. Adrian was the first of us to speak, “I thought you were playing Batman.”


“Oh no,” Daniel said, “My guy is named Bat-Shit, because he’s like Batman but he’s batshit crazy.”


“Well...” I commented, “you can’t say he wasn’t roleplaying.”


Adrian nodded, “Right now I can’t say anything at all. I’m kinda stunned.”


That’s right folks, we were playing another role playing game. Back in my days these pen and paper games were the closest thing we had to the shared world mayhem of something like THE WORLD OF WARCRAFT. You didn’t need a computer, or a broadband connection, all you needed was the kind of creativity that can only come from social maladjustment and soul crushing loneliness.


While we might not have to deal with monthly fees or server crashes we pen and paper role playing gamers still had to deal with moments like this. Adrian you see was the game master, he had written and planned out an adventure for our heroes and now it was completely derailed.


Trust me, all of us old-school nerds have been there at one time or another.


“Talk amongst yourselves for a few minutes OK?” Adrian began pawing through his ring binders and game supplement books, “I just need to make a few quick changes.”


Daniel grinned, “My character is even more awesome that you expected right?”


“Riiiiiiiiight.” I said.


“So how are things with the Panty Patrol?” Gordon asked as he opened up his second 2 liter bottle of Mountain Dew for the day.


“Busy,” I explained, “busier than I expected really. Working in women's’ clothing isn’t as easy as I thought it would be.”

Adrain dropped his pencil, “I knew it!”


“No it’s not like that,” I explained, “I’m working at the Julia Shop now.”


Daniel snickered, “Are they paying you in merchandise?”


“Up yours!” I cleverly retorted. (I think it was Shakespeare that first used that particular retort.)


“Hey!” Gordon said, “Show the man a little respect. He landed a job that puts him in close contact with women every day. Women with money and needs that only he can fulfill. Woman eager to take off their clothes right on the premisses.”


“Wow,” Adrain’s hand tightened around his dice bag.


Daniel gave me an apologetic look, “I didn’t know...”


I blushed, “Actually I mostly work in the stockroom all by myself.”


“I KNEW IT!” Adrian and Daniel shared a high-five.


Gordon punched me in the arm, “What the Hell is the deal? Do you want people to think you’re a doofus for the rest of your life?”


“I’m not sure if I have a choice,” I said, “this could be one of those nature versus nurture things.”


“Damn Al...”


Daniel rolled his eyes, “Come on, everyone in the class of 1986 knows who he’s still pining away for Lilly.”


“Lilly?” Adrian stroked his chin, isn’t she still hooked up with Jessie Manson?”


“Yes.”


“The bodybuilder?”


“Yes.”


“The guy that can crush walnuts against his abs?”


“Yes!”


“Wow Al,” Adrian nodded ruefully, “is your life really that sad?”


I sighed with exasperation, “All I know is that I wish that I had Jessie’s girl...”


“Jessie's’ girl?” Gordon asked.


“Why can’t a find a woman-” a sob caught in my throat, “why can’t I find a woman like that?”


“Ok guys... lets get back to the game!” Adrian said.


*


...the three costumed men stood among the bodies arguing about the fine line between costumed crimefighters and masked vigilantes. Patient Zero and Batshit were starting to shove each other, Frost was looking for a convenient side exit.


“Nice try you young whipper snappers...” a voice interrupted them. One of the customers stood, her dowdy dress was peppered with buckshot holes, there was blood in her blue rinsed hair. “But my healing powers are more than a match for you.”


“And who the Hell are you supposed to be?” Batshit laughed as he reloaded his sawed off shotgun.


Steel claws popped out of the backs of her hands and she lunged at them. The last thing the heroes heard was her name...


*


“Auntie Mame?” I scratched my head in confusion.


“No,” Adrian said, “Auntie Maim.”


“Ohhhh...”





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