tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77024715837346391742024-03-04T22:15:42.354-08:00The Doomthink EquationsChris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.comBlogger30125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-4047922241819223972021-10-05T22:26:00.008-07:002021-10-08T01:14:31.968-07:00Dreams.<p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;"><br />Sleep...</span></i><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">2000</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><b><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">You arrive suddenly at a shallow river flowing through thick jungle. On the other side, a silverback gorilla with a spear, and a mask of mud and straw.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">You regard each other silently for a moment.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">“What is this place?” you call out.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">The gorilla-man pauses. “We both know where we are.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">It’s true. You <i>do</i> know. But you do not want to accept.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">“You must be thirsty,” he says. “Come down to the water and drink. It’s very sweet.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">You want to drink, but you do not like the tone of the gorilla-man. He would snatch you, you know.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">(The mud mask is there because he is <i>fucking rotting away dead!</i> There is only fetor-slick skull beneath it.)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">Many more times you find yourself back here, and each time there are more gorillas in mud masks, watching you, imploring you to cross over... One in the ford, close enough to snatch you...<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">You surmise, after a time, that they are in the Land of the Dead.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;">You are wrong.</span></i><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;">You</span></i><span style="font-family: Times;"> are in the Land of the Dead—they are in Limbo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">They want what you have, an afterlife.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">2015</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">Garbage trucks downshift and gun black pennants from the pipes in order to crawl up the slope of a Möbius strip highway; as they invert across the sky the trash begins to spill out and rain down, only it isn’t trash, it’s babies, and people run to catch them in buckets and tubs (some padded with hasty quilts, some not) and as they thump down into the lucky bins and unlucky ground some onlookers get creamed with a six-story baby to the head, knocked flat, and the rest begin fighting on the gore-slicked pavement over the best parts, feeding and pulling hair as the first truck comes unstuck from the asphalt clouds and begins its ponderous, energy-gathering descent toward the crowd below...<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">2016</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">I had a cut on my arm, and as I investigated with gentle fingertips I felt a strange lump inside. I pressed and prodded and finally expressed the thing with not inconsiderable—but curiously pain-free—effort. Turning it over in my hands and wiping away blood and tissue the thing suddenly resolved into a weird teratoma: <i>conjoined fetal skulls</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">Being hollow, I decided I’d use it as a dice cup.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">I was in an <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ace_of_Base">Ace of Base</a> cover band.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">I’d like to think we were called something cool like “Ass of Bass” but I didn’t have time to figure out the band name what with our whirlwind international stadium tour. Actual dream-thought: “Wow, fifty-thousand people are about to be deeply disappointed.” But somehow they loved it even though we weren’t nearly as good as the source material and I seemed to be organically predisposed to being incapable of remembering the lyrics.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">2018</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;">the man-frazzle on the throne leered from the smoke</span></i><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;">a bikini rod is a lead dildo designed to prevent bikinis from going critical</span></i><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">Vacuum had become currency, and all the mines were in the sky. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">Everyone carried around little metal flasks, and you paid for something by letting air hiss into your flask. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">Using a pump to create more vacuum was counterfeiting.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">2019</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">I went off-roading in deep desert canyons with J.K. Rowling. Afterward, she invited me to a party for billionaires, where I stumbled into a couple making hasty love in a bathroom. The man was in a hospital bed, complete with incomplete gown, tubes and wires. The woman invited me to join in but I just wasn’t sure how that might work, so I demurred.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">I was in Italy, and there were no bathrooms.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">My wife woke up, stretched, and said, “I was having a good dream, so I wanted to finish it.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">“What was it about?” I asked.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">“We were swinging—”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">“<i>???</i>”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">“—but it was for a good cause. We did it to break up an international spy ring; we were having the press conference about it when I woke up.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">Upon further questioning I learned it also involved Disneyland, numerical tattoos, animatronics, me taunting the animatronics and the animatronics painting me with goo—a goo that would allow them to track us anywhere in the world.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">This is pretty much why we’ve been married 30 years.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">2020</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">The dreamgirl said I fucked better than Arnold Schwarzenegger, so I got that going for me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">The board game I designed in my sleep last night had two resources: chrome & blood.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">Fog is actually ghoul urine—they piss it into air after they devour a corpse, and in enormous quantities.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">The good news:</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"> The Fountain of Youth has been discovered! Peel back the years! Live smooth and bendy and pain-free like you did in an earlier onion-layer of yourself!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">The bad news:</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"> It requires threading a throbbing lumpy-chunky vat-grown umbilicus from a lady’s hoo-ha to a man’s belly button, and they have to remain within five feet of each other for months and months and <i>months</i> like an eye-rolling performance art piece.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;">The worser news:</span></b><span style="font-family: Times;"> It only works for men, and for some reason men are having a hard time finding women who will put up with that shit.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">The dog has dog toys that contain microscopic pixel art made from individual atoms which require a special viewer to see. Patrick Stewart warns me that I shouldn’t look at them <i>too</i> much, as every time you look—aw, shit, there goes another one.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCbm8o2oLcTED-YSAWfQ7RCJ81BWPyeq2NLxF2wH9wHIm98TirVQzQso3LRh26MwSc5cHGSDVBc8BOYHSyiMU3p8O2qLUKW7nDPYeooJbp88GH9yk6FaR614Nh7kMI9Hhjv4Xeuy8eAg/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black; font-size: medium;"><img alt="" data-original-height="226" data-original-width="432" height="167" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCbm8o2oLcTED-YSAWfQ7RCJ81BWPyeq2NLxF2wH9wHIm98TirVQzQso3LRh26MwSc5cHGSDVBc8BOYHSyiMU3p8O2qLUKW7nDPYeooJbp88GH9yk6FaR614Nh7kMI9Hhjv4Xeuy8eAg/" width="320" /></span></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">Riann Wilson had a ludicrous horse penis, and wanted to shoot some hot “lucky Pierre” action with his girlfriend and another man who also had a tentacular member. The kink was that this wouldn’t be any mere x-rated movie, but an <i>x-ray</i> movie, so really just grindy skeletons with ghost-meat wafting around them. I’m not sure if I was the director or coffee boy, but at one point I accidentally walked in front of the beam and stood there, gawking, for something like four astronauts’ worth of chest x-rays.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;">a fragment: </span></i><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">by concentrating <i>really</i> hard, like so hard I could only hold onto it for the briefest of moments, I could shapeshift—not into terrestrial animals but things completely alien and unknowable... <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">and then my mind would flag and I’d pop back into a people shape<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">The aliens were ultradense gray prisms, man-sized, thin and angled—but I didn’t know that yet as they were wearing people-suits. They were very helpful, nudging me in all the right directions as I tried to figure out the mysterious flight characteristics of the UFO I saw. It spun with a wobble due to the hideous mass of the pilots themselves! When I saw through their ruse (imagine a pry bar as heavy as a truck inside a blowup doll) they showed me another human who knew them, one they had convinced to build his house over a volcanic vent which they then triggered. And that’s how I came to do all this petty shoplifting, officer—they demand Slim Jims and nail polish, and they’ll kill me if I don’t!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">Then there was a hazy part about my hotel room, and how one entire wall was open to a busy shopping mall, which made getting dressed interesting.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">There is a robot crawling toward Las Vegas. It used to walk but somebody smashed its legs. What will it do when it gets to Vegas? No one knows... but it won’t be good. People drive out into the desert to see it, to stand on its back, to attach their cars by ropes and chains and have a picnic while it drags them ever on. Some people put things in its way for it to crawl over or around or tunnel under, stunts it pulls with dogged, machine-like tenacity. There is a robot crawling toward Las Vegas...<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">The mariachis—<i>hundreds of them</i>—were dead in the park because the cartel had glued their faces shut. I drove over a few, with great wincing regret, in my efforts to flee the scene.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">A titanic moth, dead, gliding still in the upper atmosphere... A city built upon its back, flight maintained by the Pinion Guild. No one talks about the Antennae People... or the Mouth Mines.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">The guy in the disco cowboy outfit wore an undergarment body rig that vibrated him into invisibility so he could shoot people at the party... Luckily for all of us Will Smith had a head clamp that vibrated his head at the same frequency, so he shot him first.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">The Melungeons who were hosting the convention in the swamp had bred two enormous hamsters—like the size of mid-size sedans—to act as guardians. As I was making my way out of the swamp I saw that they had killed a stag, and though they ignored me (perhaps I still smelled of the convention?), I kept my souvenir cardboard tube pointed at them, knowing it wouldn’t do a goddamn thing if they decided to charge.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;">This is what happens when you flip randomly through the choose-your-own-adventure dream:</span></i><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">- The robot was a three-foot black chrome skull suspended between two wagon wheels, and it wanted my burrito. We fled (the burrito and I), but the burrito was so scared it shit itself, beans down my forearm, tortilla gone floppy, as we hurriedly picked through the ruins, and that terrible, hungry robot rolled impossibly ever on...<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">- As the armored troop carrier screeched to a halt in front of me, its angular door scything upward, I shook my lunchbox, a self-constructing mini-missile launcher that unfolded over my shoulder and into my hand, placing the trigger over the pad of my right index finger—I squeezed and popped a pencil-thin missile that tracked for the vehicle interior in glorious super slo-mo...<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">- I slid toward wakefulness in the middle of a confused ramble about the Second Amendment with a female firearms instructor who was infatuated with my beard (she was a staff member of a post-apocalyptic CITADEL OF KNOWLEDGE where handsome and beautiful young people in uniform yoga pants learned to shoot real good); I clawed at the fabric of sleep to haul myself back in to add nuance to my point, which was far too blunt—<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">Super stoked to have coined the word “intranquil”—woke to find it already in the dictionary. Somewhere, somehow it darted in through the eyes or ears and lay dormant in the sediment of the unconsious, needing only the stick of sleep to stir it up...<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">What else is down there?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">WHAT ELSE<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">On Mars, no one is interested in my new book, <i>Astrology on Mars</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">When you’re the only human in the room on the pregnant vampire’s due date, <i>run</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;">I am the walking life support for a killer whale.</span></i><span style="font-family: Times;"> His heart has failed him and so the arm-thick red and blue hoses plugged into my chest mean my heart is beating for two. I can go places, but not very far. Outwardly, I worry that my meagre monkey heart can’t possibly serve us both—but it’s somehow working, I feel his ocean-bullet strength in me and am secretly proud.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Segoe UI Symbol", sans-serif" style="background-color: white;">⁂</span><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Times; font-size: medium;">...and wake.</span></i><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p></o:p></span></p>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-60344000796089072882021-08-17T14:20:00.029-07:002021-08-24T14:25:15.754-07:00I Bludgeon the Ghoul with a Sack of Skulls<style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Setup: Please follow the numbered steps <i>precisely</i>—failure to do so will result in degenerate play and embarrassing Internet posts.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She liked farming; he preferred stabbing things in the neck. They always sat at separate tables, never together because they both played with yellow: the color of the sun, of bananas, a certain flower, happy faces; yellow: the color of liver failure, of pus, a hobo’s tooth, cowardice.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Beyond this they were barely aware of each other.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She knew he was there because he was comfortable around women; he knew she was there because of the unfortunately insistent wetware in his head that was constantly pointing out that her shape was THE MOST IMPORTANT THING IN THE UNIVERSE, a living, breathing Venus of Willendorf constantly snagging the corner of his eye.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>That, and she said things that made him smile inside.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But on this night they arrived simultaneously late at the <i>Are You Game?</i> café, a bright, well-lit place, appointed in blonde wood, spacious, yet pleasingly cluttered like a benevolent wizard’s study, smelling of subtle cleaning products, gurgling espresso, and washed bodies. It was trafficked mostly by young, unattached professionals and a small, but hard, knot of grumpy wargamers possessed of gray beards and social mores that might have been shockingly progressive when they were young but were now, buried as they were under a mass of calendar pages, vaguely unsavory.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>They gathered, that ancient coterie, to silently squint at the most unappealing games imaginable—four-color paper maps with stacks of carefully trimmed cereal-box cardboard squares—meetings punctuated by frequent smoke-breaks where the primary topic of conversation seemed to be upcoming funerals.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And so, through the sin of unpunctuality, it was just the two of them—and the Disaster Twins, the two guys no one ever played with if they could help it. They weren’t twins, exactly, but they made no effort to <i>not</i> dress alike, all the while sporting identical barber college haircuts.<span class="apple-converted-space"> Perhaps they cut each other’s hair. Simultaneously. It was hard to tell. </span>One of them was an unabashed nose-picker who would have done well to channel that fastidiousness into other areas of hygiene; the other held eye contact too long and too hard, the way tigers watched crowds at the zoo—only without the comfort of a glass-and-steel barrier. From all this it would be easy to assume that they were merely neurodiverse, processing the world differently at a fundamental level, but it was more likely they were choosing—as much as one can call it a choice—to be the living symptoms of a parade of fucked-up Christmases, Santa a no-show, or drunk and gropey when he was there, and the kind of person that might come out of all that. Times two.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She looked at him, and the Twins.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Well,” she said, “if we’re gonna do this, we might as well farm.” <span class="apple-converted-space"></span>She indicated a copy of <i>Loam Lords: 1401 AD</i> on the table.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Twins groaned.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He shared their sentiment but kept it to himself.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“1401? Everyone knows 1937—‘Golden State’—is the superior version,” said one of the twins with a snotty lilt.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Yeah,” said the other one, “the one with the retard and the rabbits.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Charming,” she replied. “Look, none of us are happy about this.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>But we make do or no one plays anything.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He raised a hand slightly.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“I’m—a little bit happy,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She raised an eyebrow slightly.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Don’t get <i>too</i> happy,” she replied.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They sat and unboxed the thing. Everything was double-sleeved in bespoke plastic like a dubious boner at Howard Hughes’ grandma’s house. You could spill an entire beer or murder an incontinent hagfish on it and still resell it as mint.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She fumbled a shuffle and cards sluiced across the table. “Jesus, sleeves?” she said,<span class="apple-converted-space"> “</span>Someone’s afraid their game’s gonna get the herpes.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He glanced at the nose-picker.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“It might.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of course everyone knew how to play—who doesn’t know how to play <i>Loam Lords</i>? It was, after all, <i>the</i> game that had cracked the code for heavy strategy gamers and casual non-gamers alike. High rollers and wheelchair-bound luminaries fought million-dollar duels over it in Vegas even as Internet celebrities noodled with the bits while frying on MDMA. It was every baby’s first game, and great-grandpa’s last; it was the only non-chess game known to have caused a chess master to cane another one into a coma. It had decisions so meaningful they made grown men weep, and yet it was so accessible that even the stupid could wrap their insufficient minds around it. It was quantum mechanics with a sparkly-pink pistol grip.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Setup was perfunctory—eight hands wove the thing precisely, perfectly, out of the chaos of box contents; the first player was obvious, and wordlessly chosen, the first card-fall and chit-push a combination of historically safe opening and shockingly novel gambit. <i>Gasps and nods all around. </i>And so they played, the game neatly compressing time and hypnotically transporting them into separate heavens of pure thought, math giving rise to movement and music, to dance and worlds, and a distantly ticking cosmos...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When he chanced to glance up he kept his eyes on her eyes, but not too much; <i>it’s like the sun, like looking at the sun</i>.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>You only get a couple seconds.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>No wonder perceptive women thought all real men were rape-beasts—but hadn’t he read something about how it wasn’t his fault?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>That there were ancient monkey circuits whose only job was to wait and wait and wait and then fire like mad when they saw breasts?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Circuits that were cultivated, like carnal bonsai, by higher-order Puritan programming, reaching down through the murk of evolutionary history to pull it out by the roots, but instead strangely reinforcing it, making it smaller, but far tougher, bent against the wind?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>And so heterosexual American males got erections when they saw a baby eat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Besides, the article was probably written by a lecherous old adjunct professor on his way out the door astride one too many sexual harassment complaints, peer reviewed by other creeps who realized they were going to need something for their lawyers to wave in the faces of an irrational jury.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Blame God,” they’d say, “blame the muck we rose from.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Blame Science.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“What are you doing?” she asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He jumped.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“What.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“It’s your turn.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He looked at her blankly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Sow, reap, prima nocta, something, <i>anything</i>.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He blushed, scanned the board, nudged a cube without really thinking—and kicked the game square in the nuts.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Seriously?” yelled one of the Twins, “<i>Seriously</i>? You’re gonna ship sorghum <i>now</i>?!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Sweet <i>Jesus</i>,” breathed the other Twin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I’ll—I’ll take it back,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Oh—oh no, no takesies-backsies. If you’re taking it back then I’m taking like my last <i>ten turns </i>back, shipping fucking sorghum.” The Twin spat the words. “Like you haven’t been playing this game your whole fucking life.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Disrespectful is what it is,” said the other Twin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He didn’t look at her again as she used the last of the game to wipe his mess off the board with their stupid faces, tripling all their scores.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1: If you’re reading this you’ve already opened the box, so we’ll just skip that part.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">How to describe her beyond a simple sigh?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She wore her long, thick hair in sculptural braids that were never the same twice; her deep, bright eyes taking it all in from behind minimalist glasses; her curves draped in loose blouses and skirts that were just this side of Renfaire garb: wide belts, pouches instead of a purse, knee-high leather horse-riding boots.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She smelled of vanilla, peaches, and sometimes peppermint.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The total effect was intoxicating, amplifying, the difference, he imagined, between merely looking at cocaine and freebasing with a comedian.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She was Richard Pryor on fire.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And it made him wish he were that brave.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He wore what the other engineering students wore in college, what they still wore at work entirely out of habit: whatever their mom bought them, whatever they found in the drawer, paired-up and color-coordinated, blue with blue, brown with brown, nothing black at all.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>A frisky day might involve cargo shorts and flip-flops with socks, like Cool Craig down in Compliance Testing.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He was a dork, too, but somehow he could put it in a box and get laid.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>They would have built a solid-gold statue of him, to the absolute limits of the catastrophic intersection of mass, malleability, compressive strength and structural integrity (which was precisely 3.14158 meters tall, including, of course, his upraised arm calling all dorks forward to bang) if they hadn’t hated him in equal measure.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>There were only two thoughts whenever Cool Craig sashayed into a room:<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">1)<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>That’s totally what I’m wearing for Frisky Friday</i>, and<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">2)<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>I bet his alarm clock is a blowjob</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It only took him three weeks to realize that being on time meant they would never play together again—on account of the lack of overlap in their preferred gaming styles, and that whole “yellow” thing—so on the fourth week he began to show up late on purpose. It was a carefully calibrated lateness, 17 minutes past the hour, the precise moment they had first found themselves at the same table. It may have been the purest of chance, or an artifact of her situation—the amount of time it took to neatly fold someone else’s work mess so it could be unpacked in the morning, or catching every traffic light between <i>there</i> and <i>here</i>, or even how long it took her to make and eat a hasty sandwich. And so he bet it all on reproducibility, spending those extra 17 minutes—after he was ready to go—sitting bolt upright on his couch, rubbing his adrenal glands smooth like worry stones.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">For another three weeks he arrived precisely late—where he would notice she was otherwise engaged and then peel off as the Disaster Twins mucked their game of <i>Magic</i> and vectored for him. Three long weeks of no gaming whatsoever, which was the non-gamer equivalent of not breathing until you get brain damage. He could actually feel himself growing stupid, a sensation that began to gnaw at his resolve.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">On the fourth week, she met him in the parking lot.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">2: Carefully place the board in the center of the play area; having read that, you are legally prohibited from contacting us for a replacement if you screw it up.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“There’s something I want to try,” she said as they strode purposefully toward the café, “but the designer’s kind of a dick.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Oh, a game,” he said too quickly, then, “What makes you say that?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Internet would know, but I don’t wanna look.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Kids, racism, something like that.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Either way, he was found dead in Bangkok of misadventure poisoning.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He squinted. “Someone poisoned him?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“No, it’s—” she hesitated, “—the polite way to say ‘autoerotic asphyxiation gone wrong’.” Her pronunciation was delightfully precise.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“So you mean auto<i>thanotic</i> asphyxiation,” he replied.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She broadcast a quick emoji, eyes rolled above a small smile. His heart caught it like it was <i>eggplant </i>and <i>peach</i> stamped over by <i>unicorn</i> and the <i>red, double-underlined 100</i>, all of which he slapped away hard, replaced with a brief sum of Holocaust survivor tattoo math to keep himself steady.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Once inside, they cut straight to the pyramid of loaner games, tall enough that it made his palms sweat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Here we are,” she said, pulling a box out from under the pile. Lesser games clunked into the gap.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span class="apple-converted-space">‘</span>Star farm’,” he read aloud.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She gave him a look. “That is not how it’s pronounced.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He looked again. “Sure it is.<span class="apple-converted-space"> ‘</span>Star farm’.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Read it,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span class="apple-converted-space">‘</span>Star farm’.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Read it!” she demanded.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“<span class="apple-converted-space">‘</span>Star farm!’” he exclaimed quietly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She threw her hands up over her head and shouted “STARFAAARM!” at the entire room.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“We’re game,” said one of the Disaster Twins.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The four of them sat together out of common courtesy, and the distant twang of empathy, and a little bit of social anxiety, and a feeling—held weirdly out of phase by all of them—that they were making friends. The box lid came off with a loud fart, and the Twins snickered; he hated himself for his reflexive approval.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Beneath an archaeology of baggies, the board was one of those scary six-folders where no matter how you tried to unfurl it there was always at least one panel hanging by nothing more than paper and glue and angst.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>What started with two hands quickly involved all eight, and to no good effect, the Disaster Twins struggling to invoke mad shearing forces even as he and she worked to minimize them; no one present had an ownership stake in the game, making half of them super-careless and the other half super-careful.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The overall effect was like watching a crow with a broken wing trying to get into a brightly colored snack bag.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Miraculously, they got the thing flat without a tear and only the merest hint of profanity.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Laid out, it was quite a thing to behold, beautifully rendered, a massive art piece first painted on canvas by a delayed suicide, then delicately overlaid with game-boundaries, selection boxes and subconsciously evocative icons.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>It was the sort of spread that made a True Gamer’s breath catch in the throat.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Half of the board was lavish with an asteroid bubble farm, a dome of life on a lonely rock, bright with bucolic colors, sectors for fields and crops, cube corrals and control panels for monitoring atmosphere, water tankage, soil pH, and orders for programming the limited number of robot brains to plow, sow, reap and load outbound shuttles; the other half was dead space, a forbidding void where a science fiction protagonist’s parents might go missing, a minimalist star-sprinkled black, sectors for outbound shuttle lanes and occult enemy vessels, dice docks and control panels for monitoring station integrity, railgun tracking, nuclear munitions, and orders for programming the limited number of robot brains—shared with the farming side—to scan, intercept, direct weapons fire and recover inbound shuttles.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>And the whole shebang, for some reason, bounded entirely by a whimsically-scrolled roll-and-move track around the perimeter.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As the eye lingered, further details emerged, creating the illusion of descending toward the station, nose pressed to the fogged glass of a rad-hard porthole.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The landscape was alive with tiny activity, people and thinking machines working hand-in-glove to produce the raw foodstuffs necessary to make million-credit hamburgers for distant pockets of human life where scarcity and circumstance allowed for the neat intersection of need and greed—you think you wouldn’t do much for an apple, but you’d be surprised at the indignities you’d suffer if your only other option was yet another bowl of your fellow colonists’ hydrolyzed feces.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>And there, in a nascent star-lit orchard, stands a robot offering that red, shiny apple to a human in an orange jumpsuit and straw hat, the look in their eyes the whole of human history come to this moment.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>This is a goddamn space apple, and you will pay handsomely for it.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Damn,” someone breathed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I know,” one of the Twins said, “roll and move?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Really?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“And paper money,” said the other one, throwing a fat wad of varicolored cash on the table, a kaleidoscope of tiny portraits of the first—<i>and last</i>—robot president staring enigmatically back at them, “Cool.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Someone flipped open the rulebook.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Does… anyone know how to play?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The Twins gave him the <i>I thought <u>you</u> did</i> look, and she shrugged.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“We’ll figure it out as we go,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He died a little inside.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“This’ll be interesting,” said one of the Twins.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Always is,” said the other.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As they started sorting through the baggies, he noticed the game wasn’t sleeved.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Whoa, whoa, <i>whoa</i>—everybody,” he said, “the game isn’t sleeved, so be super, super careful. What are you—”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She paused, halves of a deck bent backwards in anticipation of the weaving waterfall.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Shuffling,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;">No no no no no, </span></i><span style="font-family: Times;">something inside him screamed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></i></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He took a deep breath. “You have to <i>pile</i> shuffle.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She slowly tilted her head to one side. “<i>Pile</i> shuffling isn’t shuffling.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>It’s pile <i>sorting</i>.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Use your math, nerd.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He gurgled.<span class="apple-converted-space"> “</span>Look I know you’re right—but the cards!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“The cards will be fine,” she said, riffling a scrotum-clenching waterfall and return bridge.<span class="apple-converted-space"> “</span>They’re <i>made</i> to be shuffled.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And so they learned the game in the worst way possible, one person reading inexpertly from the rulebook while everyone else interrupted with their own interpretations and assumptions brought in from other games and a vast experience with games in general, everyone convinced of the superiority of their own mastery, most of it right—after a fashion—but the wrong parts were really wrong, so much so it can be said they didn’t really play at all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The game began with one of the Disaster Twins lighting off a nuke, to which other one replied by lighting off two, “Just to see what would happen.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Well, what you’ve done,” she said slowly, “is waste three nukes while irradiating this entire swath of crops.” She hovered a splayed hand over much of the arable land beneath the dome.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Sorry,” said one of the Twins without meaning while the other stamped a hard-edged resource marker across the board like a child’s thimble rounding Go.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The rest of the business went as you might expect: two alpha gamers and two desperate damage control drones at each other like people with hands around throats in a house fire, pulses dwindling beneath fingers better served by calling emergency services, but no one willing to be the chump who let go first... So they burned in the plasma flash that breached the hull completely, the explosion reversing as the farm rudely evacuated itself into space. Four more alien destroyers decloaked in the debris cloud, within 500 meters, strafing the fleeing shuttles with impatient smart munitions, signals lost one by one as a chorus of screams became a band, and then a trio, a cruel duet, a solo—heartfelt and affecting—and finally the solar radiation hiss of an unheard John Cage piece.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was unclear exactly what the aliens did with the survivors holed up in the emergency shelters, as the game handled that hideous denouement behind a mercifully blunt YOU HAVE LOST curtain.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After a bit of nonsensical math the final tally showed a score of… √-1.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He and she cleaned up the game in silence as the Disaster Twins bickered over the details of the After Action Report, finding fault almost entirely in the fact that while she had farmed alone she had done so ineptly; and that the two of them could have handled the defense of the station if only he hadn’t interfered.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He tuned them out, replacing their hectoring with the artistry of her hands, small birds in flight, moving with practiced ease across the gamescape, perfectly proportioned, smooth, scarless, the color of good health, her nails done in a sparkly gunmetal, not chewed to nubs like his were. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Somebody’s gotta get home and bludgeon the ghoul,” one of the Twins blurted.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He fumbled the moment, watched it fall away, sickeningly, to shatter against reality. “Excuse me?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“You know,” said the other one, “wander the labyrinth of the Internet until the ghoul peeps out, get your hands around his neck and beat him until his ichor spatters the flagstones.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Then see if you level up.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Basic D&D, my friend.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He flushed, tried to say something in the negative, found the pipeline between his disordered head and his tongue to be hopelessly jammed with competing verbal activity. He looked at her and felt like he always did. She frowned.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span> </span>“He won’t level up,” said the other Twin.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">3: Shuffle them decks till it hurts—till their edges are worn smooth, their backs curled, their faces greasy with hand-jam; if you use sleeves, <i>don’t</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He stopped going to game night. Being near her was an exquisitely specific pain, proof he was incomplete, like finding out you were supposed to have three arms but you only had two and a freshly-shorn, unresolved stump, nerves still vibrating with the shock of disconnection.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Part of him wanted to go back to the stump-blind past where he could just sleep and eat and work without knowing, without feeling—whatever this awful thing was.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Another midnight bike ride, more of these lately, pounding into the dark, gliding from pool of light to pool of light, the physical meditation of the body like a Sadhu’s mortification, unmooring the mind and allowing it to float free<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">—the car ran the red light at speed; he was dumped back into his body like a shock of ice water, the brakes squealing low on everything: his skinny tires, the GTO’s fat ones, time itself; the reflections of the bright red orbs of the traffic lights floated across the car’s glossy candy coat, languorous as bloody soap bubbles, drifting up the windshield to a frozen emoji—sleepy look of nascent surprise—half-lit in the blue of a raised phone showing some random social media feed, thumb poised over a LIKE button, the confluence of time snapping suddenly 1:1 as his front tire kissed the rear bumper of the car, snatching the bike out from under him and flicking him to black—<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">he woke at the end of the ragdoll sequence, one final roll onto his back beneath a sky punctured by the hard points of actual stars.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Fuck it</i>, he thought inside his ruined helmet, <i>I’m going to tell her</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">4: Select the start player using any suitable method; but probably not the first one you thought of, because that’s kinda stupid.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Being bereft of sophisticated moves, he reached all the way back to elementary school for his next one, a folded note he passed to her without fanfare. She took it easily enough, a part of him reporting that her hand lingered a microsecond too long for such a transaction. Her face gave nothing away.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They played at their usual tables, separated by space and approach, and though he tried he never caught her looking at the note. Or at him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She returned it at the very end of the night, last minute in the parking lot, coming up behind him as he was stacking boxes in the backseat of his car.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Hey,” he said in surprise.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Hey,” she said, and handed him the note.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He palmed it like an illicit tip and went back to sorting, his face hot. He could feel her receding into the night.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Back at home—sleepless hours later—he finally bolted from bed, snapped on the lights and looked at the folded paper on the dresser. It was curled slightly with the essence of her, from the pleasant moisture of her hands, from resting against small belongings in one of her impossible pockets. He could almost smell the vanilla, or peaches.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Slowly, he reached for it and opened it in the same smooth motion—<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhonaPBrskYy_XCZNl_yqHlB_DzQWQDQyf_8LGVffuH6FvSZiTjpYvfu-3rK0oqvFHZg7cVEU4v-heHqluvnVdNBVh8-x5h2bbiH9HEpWXZZYsjQhiaDAGUA4KSu7ZYJzbgE-Oej8SJPA/s432/ghoul+pic.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="324" data-original-width="432" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhonaPBrskYy_XCZNl_yqHlB_DzQWQDQyf_8LGVffuH6FvSZiTjpYvfu-3rK0oqvFHZg7cVEU4v-heHqluvnVdNBVh8-x5h2bbiH9HEpWXZZYsjQhiaDAGUA4KSu7ZYJzbgE-Oej8SJPA/w400-h300/ghoul+pic.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">—and just about fainted.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">5: Roll the dice to determine zxk17unm.<span> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A week later and seventeen minutes after the hour, they were in the parking lot again.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Let’s play,” she said with an openness that struck him dumb.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They went straight for <i>STARFARM!</i>, and the Disaster Twins met them there.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Let’s play!” one of them said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He and she barked a simultaneous “No!” that shocked everyone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Maybe next time,” he said in response to the hard, but familiar, hurt on their faces.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And so he and she sat across from each other at the end of a long table thrumming with activity and began the eternal dance of play.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The world receded by degrees, the problems that are other people, numbers on spreadsheets, doubt and meaning, being a bewildered child in a rapidly putrefying vessel—these things grew small until it was as if they had never existed, replaced instead by a universe where the whole of the rules was smaller than a human mind, a sensation of godhood.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>In this microcosmic playground they extended, tentatively, the machinery of cooperation; naked, whirling gears seeking their complimentary counterparts in order to mesh without grinding.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>And in that moment where the expectation was for terrible noise, a fountain of sparks, smoke, the smell of burning metal—there was instead a soundless smoothing out, the glide of machinery connecting with its purpose-built supercharger, action at both ends seamlessly amplified.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It only occurred to him to be terrified later.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But in the all-consuming <i>now</i> they played together, every alteration of the gamestate distorting the whole, causing disparate parts to fall inexorably into place, succumbing to the gravity of the thing. You grip, you twist, and everything slides.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>When he moved he could feel her reciprocating, and weirdly found himself anticipating just what she needed almost simultaneously with her subtle call. <span class="apple-converted-space"></span>If this wasn’t telepathy, then there was no magic in the world.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">How many hours became a murmur of minutes?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>It was over too soon, having only just begun—when the chatter of recounted victories, defeats, calls for cheap beer and cheaper food, <i>just-one-more-game-somewhere-else</i> rose around them like an obliterating tide.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The owner flashed the lights.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They looked at each other with identical expressions, then looked at the board.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The mass of cards and cubes and chits and minis and dice were all smeared into the last four-panel page of a graphic novel about people trying to do people stuff where people aren’t supposed to be:<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>growing food inches away from black vacuum and hard radiation—a logistical nightmare anyway—further complicated by an inscrutable alien presence acting on principle, or hatred, or raw instinct.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Perhaps, he thought, the aliens fought for what was curled at the core of this nondescript asteroid—a star-scouring artifact hidden away by a failed civilization; or a slumbering god; or their Voice, stolen by that god, leaving them incapable of anything but annihilation, only understanding the exclamation points of nuclear weapons.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Maybe humanity plunked this farm down in a simple graveyard, and the fact that we were absorbing their sacred dead and shipping them off to be consumed by other starfaring apes was an ultimate taboo whose only possible response was genocide.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Or they were future humans come back through a web of wormholes to stop the birth of Space Hitler—<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“You know why we lost,” she said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He scanned the board.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“I got overwhelmed.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Expended too many nukes too early.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Sorry.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Hmmn,” she said, doing that eyebrow thing.<span class="apple-converted-space"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He woke suddenly in the small hours, pulse quick with realization.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>They lost because they both kept overextending for each other.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Instead of masterminding the end of the game, or <i>take-take-taking</i> and leaving the other person to fend for themselves, they kept shoveling resources—turns, cards, robot brains—to the other side of the equation, thoughtlessly, leaving it in a perpetually shifting state of unbalance.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He settled back into sleep’s embrace, intrigued, strangely comforted, because he could see it there, the outline of a vast continent in fog.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He wondered if she could see it, too.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">6: You invited her over? Tell your roommate not to stare. On second thought, give him a movie ticket and an inverse curfew. Also, buying condoms isn’t creepy, it’s caring.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Holy shit, your place is clean,” she said, marveling at the dentist-office presentation of wiped surfaces, perfect proportions, and horizontal spaces clear of stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“And yours... isn’t?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Well, it’s not like the bathtub’s full of poop or anything; more like, ‘lived in’ by three cats and a couple monkeys.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I—see,” he said, slightly disappointed, then disappointed at his disappointment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He produced a serviceable dinner of spaghetti and meatballs from scratch as they spoke deeply, intensely, about games, gaming, and online gamer culture. Over the last of the wine he steered conversation toward the topics recommended by his mom: <i>God, UFOs, babies</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Goddamn babies,” she muttered, shaking her head.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“What?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I thought women... loved babies.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Because we have boobs?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>C’mon.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“The way they smell,” he said matter-of-factly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Like dirty diaper?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“The way they cut through the armor and go straight to the thing inside us that goes stupid with cute.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She ignored his unironic earnestness. “Even the ugly ones?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“There are no ugly ones,” he said.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Internet says otherwise.<span class="apple-converted-space"> Google that shit. ‘</span>Dot dot dot only a mother could love.’”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“And you don’t... want to be a mother?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She regarded him coolly.<span class="apple-converted-space"> “</span>No—”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">His face fell; she caught it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“—but maybe I just haven’t met the right sperm donor yet.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The evening proceeded as one might expect. They shook hands when she left.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">7: You invited him over? Tell your roommate so she can do the thing. Also, condoms, because this guy is clueless.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Where’s your roommate?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“She knows not to be around.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>We have a system.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Oh,” he said with a minor twinge, “You must do this a lot.”<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He instantly regretted saying it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I’m going to ignore that.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Her place <i>was</i> “lived in”, but not psychotically so; more “Victorian garage sale” than an episode of <i>Hoarders</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She whistled and the cats arrived in sinuous single file and sat in a mild semicircle, regarding him expectantly.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She pointed at them one by one.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Tardis, Artoo, Meeple.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Aw, how cute—Meeple!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Of course his name’s not Meeple,” she rolled her eyes.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Jesus Christ.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He looked at the cats and they looked at him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Mr. Darcy, Bechdel, and that one has no name.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“No Name the Cat?” he asked.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“No, he doesn’t <i>have</i> a name.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Please don’t refer to him otherwise.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>It’s rude.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Poor guy doesn’t have a name?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She sighed. “He doesn’t give a shit.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He gets pets and treats and the mouse-chow keeps coming; nothing’s going to eat him. He’ll probably die of some weird geriatric cat disease his ancestors couldn’t dream of.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>A name isn’t even on his list.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“What do you do at the vet?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She snorted. “They gave him a number.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“What’s his number?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Nope, not falling for it.” She waggled a finger at him.<span class="apple-converted-space"> “</span>You will not call him by a number.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Secretly, he dubbed the nameless cat <i>c</i>, not for “cat” but as shorthand for 299,792,458 meters per second, the speed of light in a vacuum.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The evening proceeded as one might expect. They shook—<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;">That’s not what happened at all.</span></i><span style="font-family: Times;"> Exactly <i>how</i> it happened he wasn’t even sure of; all the usual stuff was going on, easy conversation that shifted between light and heavy topics the way a ridiculously expensive sports car might traverse ess curves up and down a mountain, dinner, some wine, then sitting on a magnetized couch that acted on them like helpless nuts and bolts, sliding inexorably closer until they clacked and there was no getting them apart, a change in the tenor of the evening that took him entirely by surprise even as a part of him realized she knew exactly what she was doing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She left the lights on, transformed by nakedness, her frame rising proud, as if daring him not to be aroused.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He failed.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She rolled him over, straddled and sat on him.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>His entire being was wonderfully, horribly, wadded up and yanked out of himself, like a banquet fastidiously laid with white-gloved hands suddenly leaping out a ruptured airlock—you thought you were sitting down to a sumptuous twelve-course meal but instead you got the shock of empty lungs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She stopped moving and cocked her head at him.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Are you a virgin?”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He hesitated, hated himself for it.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“No,” he said.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Not anymore.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Oh, <i>honey</i>,” she said and kissed him harder and deeper than he thought possible.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-family: Times;">I can’t breathe</span></i><span style="font-family: Times;">, he thought, <i>and I like it.<o:p></o:p></i></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Now it’s my turn,” she said, and like most gamers he was very good at following directions.<span class="apple-converted-space"></span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">8: GET READY FOR FOREVER<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He got them their own copy of <i>STARFARM!</i>, carefully punched, sorted, bagged, laminated and double-sleeved—the thing was absolutely bulletproof, good for a lifetime of plays.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>In print, out of print, it wouldn’t matter.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>They had their own copy—never to be played by anyone else—a forever game, never the same twice, a nexus of life stages and memory.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>At least that was the idea.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She farmed; he stabbed things in the neck.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Once, they almost switched roles; once, and almost.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>But the rest of the time they sat down in habit-worn seats, took possession of their respective unworn bits, and meshed their minds like it was nothing in a way that should make you jealous, right here, right now, searching to see if you have ever known this thing in your life.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She managed the farm at the edge of optimal, adjusting deftly to shortages, the timing of lifecycles and shuttle schedules, the occasional burst of radiation and breached hulls.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She implored him to spare a returning shuttle, incongruently heavy with unknown cargo, “on a hunch”—it turned out to be stowaway refugees.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He managed the never-ending war beyond the interface, feints and ruses, ships decloaking, shuttles returning full of ravenous boarders.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He husbanded dwindling nukes, finally convinced her to give up an ocean’s worth of water for a single ice ship—the <i>Assumption of Humanity</i>, starship-class but rigged with rapid-vectoring spaceship motors, a spinal mass driver that could accelerate payloads to a good chunk of <i>c</i>, and the ability to take a pounding the way an ocean swallows storms.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She used the calm he afforded to quadruple their foodstuff tonnage.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In celebration, he ordered the five robot brains in charge of the crater-pocked <i>Assumption</i> to execute a pants-shitting flyby of the dome—he switched the screen up for an old-school telescope, wanting the photons burying themselves in the back of his eyes to be real reflected light.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He saw her then, in her orange jumpsuit and straw hat, handing the apple to a robot, saying, “Look at what you have done, this entirely unlikely thing, to bring a taste of Earth to a far-flung Earth-child.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This was the dance of years.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">9: Check for game end condition.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It only took six weeks for the cancer to take her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The whole time, the whole time, filled with the horrible mixture of what they did for each other and the fear of losing it. Of hope against hope, thinking <i>this time will be different because it’s us</i>, all the way up to her final shuddered breaths, a look of blind terror on her face even as he held her hand and wished fiercely, with everything he was, it wasn’t so.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">10: I got nothin’.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></b></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Something he had never considered: the perfect dance around funerals, guaranteed with every birth—we howled on the savannah, we howled in caves, we howl in buildings and we will howl tomorrow on distant worlds. This was a groove worn deep by your ancestors; even if you don’t know the tune, the groove knows your feet. The first step suggests the next, and so on to the end.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Their families, joined—however tenuously—by what he and she did for each other, brought together now in grief for a long, dull, tearing grind of the grief in others reaching blindly for the grief in him. He endured this black reinforcement until it seemed to suddenly attenuate on its own, and he was alone in their home with the scent of her.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He loosened his tie, stripped it out in a recently practiced motion, discarded it to the floor. He shed his suit coat as he walked to their game room, to the shelves of just the ones they loved, boxes rimmed white with shelf-wear. He ran a finger down their absolute favorites, aware of the slight buzz of texture under the pad, and stopped at <i>STARFARM!</i>, removed it from the shelf and set it gently on the table. The top came off like butter and he began to set it up according to the directions, precisely and without the need for reference—on autopilot, really—until the whole thing was good to go, every last sheet, card, pasteboard bit laminated and double-sleeved. Absolutely bulletproof, good for a lifetime of plays.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p1" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); color: black; font-family: Courier; font-style: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; margin: 0in; text-align: start; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Times;"><o:p><span style="font-size: medium;"> </span></o:p></span></p><p class="p1"><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style></p><p class="p2"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was like she had never been there at all.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="p2"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p2"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p2"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p2"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p2"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p2"><span style="font-family: Times;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p2"><span style="font-family: Times; font-size: 14pt;"><br /></span></p>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-7047449166512623452020-10-27T15:42:00.005-07:002020-10-28T17:27:13.120-07:00God wants me to go to church.<div><span><span style="font-size: medium;"><br style="font-family: -webkit-standard;" /><i style="font-family: times;">Somewhere in 1990. </i></span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">When you know where the cameras are, you can bend and twist in your sexy catsuit, slink in the vid-shadows with your pants full of paper. Sometimes you have to walk backwards. But this is what you do when you’re a ramen-chested college student and your partner in crime has a card key to the Supercomputer Center with all the sweet sweet photocopiers and paper cutters. We walk in with a single sheet. We walk out like lifers taped with Nat Geos in the chow line. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">But this was only Phase One of the op. Phase Two hit the library. Here it isn’t about being sly but about being <i>fast</i>. We have a lot of paper to distribute—pull a book, finger-slide a deep page, set the trap, snap it shut. Back on the shelf and then some permutation of Fibonacci down and again. And again. And—like any new repetition the brain resists with initial clumsiness—<i>You want me to what now?</i>—before giving in with a sigh and allocating stupid amounts of processing to a stupid task. Loop it like a head bob. We roam the stacks, stairs of floors, and end up with empty hands and sore fingers.
Birthing the unseen, we give the world the things we cannot find. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><i><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">30 years later. </span></i></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">A lucky, COVID-inflected meeting with my college mentor professor, retired now, but still writing as all writers must, and for some reason still interested in whatever it is that I’m up to. We say all the usual things leftists say to each other, how the taking of guns and eating of babies gives us painful erections, the kind that can only be dispelled with gay Satanic rituals. We make sure our antifa tattoos line up, clubhouse rings turned to ready the poison needles in case one of us is a doppelgänger. Books are paraded like children, some destined to be doctors, others as opium den mattress weights. Coded papers are exchanged. But you know this if you vote in God’s blindspot. Then finally, this:
“I was doing some research on Tolkien for a paper, when I came across something... <i>interesting</i>,” he says as he slides a perfectly-pressed half-sheet across to me.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1579" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq7I8Jhy1pnMiHgaJ-_Y30DAagktu0bHwLQrQp35GwHosqmObFUR6eZeWP7Xe1lT3-I694T4CzmM5oiD6baFjPO2m2q-x5hTbL4He2uamo8T3SsPGE_AJyxbjd-lyPjO8PnDU59iiYEQ/w493-h640/SWBR+leaflet.jpg" width="493" /></span></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“I’m pretty sure it’s not from 1946—but it made me think of you and I thought you’d appreciate it.”</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Dolly-zoom. Dolly-zoom again. Dolly-zoom with a Batman angle.</i> This is what happens when the universe bends back on itself and ouroboroses into a timey-wimey Spaghetti-O™. I taste the tomato-y sauce, the catfood meatballs. I hear the jingle through a tinny, creeping van speaker. Bugs burst from chrysalides. Mushrooms waggle and curl at dusty edges. Cherry trees blow like fireworks.</span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 18px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p>
<p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">And I know in that moment the split-second of the unlucky bomb maker.</span></p><p style="font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-72507032114907423572017-06-23T12:03:00.003-07:002020-10-28T16:52:02.837-07:00The Beheading Video at the End of This Story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_0SeJx0Rk3ibjxpa0lp01XLmvqEIeTDiU2qLYiYlookaj8vYHNVu7i0-nN3efqaCmqbWC4u3uL4bLWVpjmlWDntT-wXbyK7T1ztmUnw5XOCmdniXZ4lJdpxYQ-4t4yW2DZs0I0E27w/s1600/happy.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="343" data-original-width="432" height="316" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH_0SeJx0Rk3ibjxpa0lp01XLmvqEIeTDiU2qLYiYlookaj8vYHNVu7i0-nN3efqaCmqbWC4u3uL4bLWVpjmlWDntT-wXbyK7T1ztmUnw5XOCmdniXZ4lJdpxYQ-4t4yW2DZs0I0E27w/s400/happy.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Dearest Reader,</span></div><div class="p1">
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">I have something for you, but we only get one shot at this. Let's imagine you've just stepped from a helicopter into an eerie green night-vision hamlet where the only barking dogs walk on two legs. You and your team stride smooth as steadicam operators to the door where the breaching tech affixes an explosive frame. On the other side, unknown atrocities are unfolding and you will be the wooden shoe in those gears. On the count of three --</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">-- you suddenly realize your "gun" is just your forefinger and thumb, and you are buck-ass naked.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Let's freeze it right there.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">If you want to go through the door like that, then by all means, do proceed. If, however, you want to go through in full kit then gird your fucking loins thusly:</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">1. Get a knife. Any knife will do, as long as you can hold it in your hand as you read.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">2. Get a cherry pie. No, really -- an honest-to-god physical cherry pie. If you don't have one handy, I recommend you STOP HERE and take the time to pick one up when convenient for you, then return when you have it in hand. I said we only get one shot at this and proceeding without the pie is like going through that door with your pants on your head. Please note that any cherry pie will do -- the $50 artisanal handcrafted one and the thing Fruit Pie the Magician feeds to the children in his basement all become the same shit in the end.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Take the time, get the pie. We'll wait.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">*</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">*</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">*</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">Welcome back. That pie looks good, doesn't it? It should -- most people never get pie.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">You're almost ready to breach:</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">3. Cue up the music video "Cherry Pie" by Warrant, but DO NOT PLAY it at this time. Be sure to get on the other side of any stupid ads so that when the moment comes and you are instructed to play the music video you don't get whined at about penis pills instead.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">4. Continue reading and be sure to follow the instructions at the end. Godspeed and happy hunting.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">*</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">*</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">*</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">BOOM</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><br /></div></div><div class="p1"><div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-large;"><b>*</b></span></div>
</div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span><span><br /></span>
<span>In order to have a
reader feel connected to a story, you must first and foremost establish the
humanity of the protagonists:<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>S</span>o here is our hero, slapping a child;
and, there, our heroine, taking an immensely satisfying shit behind a parked
car.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>While you would probably
much rather see them kissing, or, if we’re going all PG-13, doing some implied,
off-screen hand stuff, I can assure you you’d be far less happy if it happened all
at once, like it is in your head right now:<span class="apple-converted-space">
</span>slapping, shitting, kissing, and hand stuff.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Which didn’t happen in the story at
all—it only happened inside your dirty, dirty head.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">It’s not your
fault; heads are naturally dirty.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>How
do we know this?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Because they
make a goddamn mess when they come off.<span class="apple-converted-space">
</span>There’s blood, sure—but the real problem is what’s unleashed and
multiplied through screens to haunt a billion more heads, like xeroxing a
spectral hermit crab, out of the one that’s done, and into the eye holes of all
the rest turned its naked way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Our hero says
something about how “Rudeness is calling the social contract’s bluff,” to a
stunned mother while our heroine, who learned to speak French in Haiti, hikes
up her jeans and flies the bird at some gawking squares in a Benz.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The cops are coming, maybe a couple
minutes out, but really, we need to be doing all we can where we are <i>right
now</i> to avoid the beheading video at the end of this story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">How do we do that?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>By thinking clean thoughts—like the
pope dying of an undiagnosed ectopic pregnancy.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I’m sorry, that’s not a clean way to
go at all.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>It would be
uncomfortable for a good long while before it got all hot and sharp and
slippery—remembering that “hemorrhage” is blood loss you can <i>hear</i>—so let’s
try... an art design magazine spread of a pure, all-white living space where
everything is the color of a just-scrubbed toilet inside a supermodel smile,
maybe with a couple of ironic mannequins, you know, just hanging out in sassy eggshell
bell-bottoms, milky-fringed vests and funky little snowdrift hats.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Like someone was about to say
something pure white and mildly humorous and we’ve arrived just in time to be
in on the joke, if you think the things that reverberate through perfectly
empty heads might tickle you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Because the cops
are coming, and it would be great if our sufficiently human protagonists would
just give up without a fight, or maybe get comically tased after a brief chase
set to “Yakety Sax” because cops are people, too, and just want to go home at
the end of the day to drink and beat their wives—I mean, hug their children.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>But this is unlikely given that our
hero has more than just a child-slapping boner in his pants—there’s an
unregistered nine-mil, too—and our heroine is a cutter, and not in the young
adult novel sense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">But we did it
again, didn’t we?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">We thought bad thoughts.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>And every bad thought is a stepping
stone to the—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">DON’T THINK IT!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Don’t you think about the beheading video at the end of this
story!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">(You just did,
didn’t you.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">It’s gonna be alright—just repeat after me:<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>kittens, kittens, kittens</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Deep breath in...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><br /></span>
<span><br /></span>
<span><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">...deep breath
out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Remember, always,
that breath is distance, each one another step away from the womb and toward
that dark horizon only briefly glimpsed like red carpet side-boob.</span><br />
<span><br /></span>
<i>Kittens.</i><br />
<span><br /></span>
<span>Now, because I
already implied what happens with the cops we can just skip it, even though—I
hate to say it—skipping it will bring us two whole pages closer to—</span></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Okay, so maybe we do actually want to take the time here.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Our hero and
heroine <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">could</i> do that trick where you
get something more problematic than your current problem to out-problem <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i> problem—like the way the whole “give
a mouse a cookie” tesseract is truncated with a rat trap.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>So what’s more powerful than cops?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Well, velociraptors, but only the
movie ones, as the real ones were tiny, and even then the movie ones would only
have the upper hand briefly—once the surprise of seeing Officer Anonymous (two
days from retirement!) get his throat torn out it would all be falling back and
tightly-grouped, aimed shots.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>There’s
a reason one specific ape dominated the globe, a symptom of which is automatic
weapons.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>And dinosaurs had <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">feathers</i>—which is stupid—because the
scientifically accurate version of this scene would look like cops fighting a
bunch of turkeys.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>But you know
what?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Thinking about a poofy T.
Rex, like an out-of-scale baby chick, is waaay better than a beheading video.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Aw, crap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There it is
again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Okay, so what’s
more powerful than cops...<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The
military!<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>At least they used to
be until the professional constabulary up-armored themselves at the AFG-IRQ war
surplus rummage sale, so I’m actually gonna say...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Illuminati mercenaries.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I know what you’re
thinking:<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>If they’re mercs, they
wouldn’t necessarily know they were working for the Illuminati—that’s like part
of the definition.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>But, I
counter, you don’t really know how the Illuminati works—that’s also part of the
definition, and even if it doesn’t make sense I’m telling you that “not making
sense” is the direction you need to go to have any hope of figuring all of this
out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">So let’s
fast-forward to where the cop cars form a flashing ring and the radii of drawn
pistols indicate our heroes in the middle who have adopted kung fu stances (Tiger
and Honey Badger, respectively) that will trend viral a couple minutes from
now.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>And for some reason there’s
a man down, but it’s a brown one, so it only elicits three-fifths of the
outrage a normal one would.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Predictably,
everyone within visual range reorients their government-approved personal
surveillance devices and, compelled by the yawning pit of meaninglessness we’re
all spawned from, begins recording, allowing for a full 3D reconstruction of
every balled fist and bullet trajectory later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">The cops are
shouting things, things that sound like the lowing of foghorns to our hero and
heroine in their accelerated battle-trance.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">(It’s important to
note here that a lone sheet of newsprint <i>does not</i> blow slowly across the
scene.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Now, this is that
promised moment when some greater, darker torpedo lances out of the moon-hazed
fog of the situation and detonates against the side of the destroyer, blowing
chunks of crew and girlie mags and perfumed letters from home up through the
hatches on pillars of fire.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Those
Illuminati mercs, riding fluffy dinosaurs out of an unimaginably expensive time
portal—but that would be <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">ludicrous</i>
because it’s only ever happened in billionaire dreams—and once in real life—never
to be repeated again.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>You’d be
far more likely to believe they materialize in silent black helicopters that
decloak thirty feet off the deck, perfectly stealthy, unheard and unfelt due to
their rotor wash being directed <i>upwards</i> from their weird, flickering
blades.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The truth is that
looking <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">up</i> is the totally wrong
direction—you should be looking <i>in</i>, inside the heads of the cops who
went to that all-expenses-paid United Nations Law Enforcement retreat in
Turkmenistan, the one where they sat through an entire day of droning meetings
in anticipation of the strange trim who would surely do the things that
red-blooded, All-American girls would leave you for even suggesting.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>And when they thought back on that
trip (which they never did) there was only that one day, and then the beginning
of a night where the girls came in with non-standard liquor and then... <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">nothing</i>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Nothing until the plane trip back three days later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">This is what
Illuminati mercs know:<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>a great
blank, and somewhere deep in the dreaming meat a code phrase that turns them on
like sunsets and long walks on the beach.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">As our heroine
draws one foot back in the Eight-Ways pattern—said to connect the lower chakras
to the nearest available ley line—and swirls her hands in what translates
loosely as “The Rending of the Sensitive Bits” the code phrase is revealed:<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>the words<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3" style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZV15o1zmYGMjJy3Qok3c1DNPtYM7qntvs8Mkw5lKZxi6ZvJOwAvf4G4-MZVU-kJVS0lnckTGRcsJYH5m6_kKwWDkBr7Rz_FctH6jHyKjlVyw8nXaohg8X0WQ6Fi8zPh70GaLD2du_Ig/s1600/metric+fuck-ton.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="38" data-original-width="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZV15o1zmYGMjJy3Qok3c1DNPtYM7qntvs8Mkw5lKZxi6ZvJOwAvf4G4-MZVU-kJVS0lnckTGRcsJYH5m6_kKwWDkBr7Rz_FctH6jHyKjlVyw8nXaohg8X0WQ6Fi8zPh70GaLD2du_Ig/s1600/metric+fuck-ton.png" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">stretched across
her braless, C-cup tits in a curvy, 1970s font.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Everyone sees it,
it’s in everyone’s head, but those who’ve seen it before pivot and put bullets
into the brains of those who haven’t.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Half
the cops drop, the other half holster their guns and charge the center, knowing
full well that while they have to take their quarry alive most of them won’t
survive the experience.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The cops
hurdle their cars, sliding across hoods and trunks, or getting one foot in an
open window and vaulting over the flashing roof, converging as our heroine does
things that red-blooded, All-American girls would leave you for even
suggesting, like bursting a man into ribbons of hot meat with a lightning bolt.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>A thing where the sight is only
rivaled by the <i>smell</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">It’s a furious
thing, the stopping of hearts with a breath, the inversion of eyes and brains,
bones being made to go into briefly surprising places, but really it’s that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">smell</i>—the smell of boiled blood and
ruptured guts, hot half-shit heavy with stomach acid—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Okay, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">okay</i>, waitaminit—<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">STOP!</i><span class="apple-converted-space"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Let’s take a break
before we remember that the awful thing we’re bending toward here is only held
in abeyance by <i>not</i> thinking about it, which you’re doing RIGHT NOW.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">So—let’s go on a
picnic:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">The sky above the
park was the color of an ironic lowbrow sofa-sized painting.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Searing gold just above the trees,
with orange shading into the pink undersides of clouds, then various blues
swatching ever darker into the utter black of the zenith.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>It had been such a wonderful day,
this picnic—and goddammit if we didn’t just miss it, coming in all late like
this.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>It’s almost over, and by
over I mean <i>OVER</i>, so we better suck up as much of what’s left as we can.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Our hero sits
splay-legged on a checkerboard blanket, propped up on his elbows; our heroine
is slotted neatly into the V, leaning back against his chest, her hands
absentmindedly massaging his shins.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>No
picnic is complete without ants, so she rubs a couple off of one perfectly bare
foot with the other, flashing her chipped rainbow toenails.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">The kids finish
their Kool-Aid and lope off after a distant dog that’s scribing golden beelines
back and forth across the sward for a tennis ball.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She follows them with eyes and ears
as they recede on ribbons of laughter, then flops her head back onto his
shoulder and marvels at his profile against the setting sun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“We should get a puppy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">He reaches up and
curls the hair behind her ear, surreptitiously inhaling her scent.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Her warmth, with a hint of
perspiration, suffuses him from crotch to neck.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Did you hear me?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Mmmm,” he says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“So what do you think?<span class="apple-converted-space">
</span>I mean, look at them—”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Distantly, the tiny shapes gambol, streak, and roll in
chirps of mirth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“—so much light
and love.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">He closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Because we don’t have enough.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">She slaps his leg.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“That’s
not what I meant!”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“You’re right,” he
says, “we got it all so right.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Why
not add more?”<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He pauses.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Besides, it’s been a while since
anyone shit on the rug.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">The rejoinder
devolves into play fighting, tickling, rolling, laughing.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>They end face-to-face, panting.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He gazes down at her, lit from
within, a stray lock of hair crossed between her eyes to the corner of her
smile.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He feels something
suddenly urgent rise unbidden in him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Promise me—” he says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Anything,” she breathes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Promise me if anything... <i>happens</i>... you’ll find
someone else.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Her face crinkles.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“What?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“You should have
someone,” he says very seriously, “you should <i>always</i> have someone.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Promise me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Well, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">that</i> went
dark,” she says.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“It’s how we know there’s light and love.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Promise me.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Nothing’s going to happen,” she says, and moves to kiss
him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">He pulls back,
locks eyes with her.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Something <i>always</i>
happens.”<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>And then he kisses
her, hard and deep, her redolence suffusing every empty space in him with her
essence until he knows without thought that he would crush an ape’s skull to
eat her pussy again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Above them, sky
writhing—the clouds twisting into knots of silent words louder than your soul—and
below come the ants the size of a wizard’s hourglass, which she stomps, though
the chitin lacerates her rainbow feet, as the kids and the corpse-sniffing dog
race after a severed hand—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">The ayahuasca in
the Kool-Aid was starting to hit and the kids were about to meet the lizards
that lived in their bones.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I’m sorry, but
that’s the end of the nice stuff—we’ve only got a couple pages left, like that
gutless sensation at the top of a rollercoaster—and we all know what happens at
the bottom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Some dude is down there pressing
his neck against the track.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">And here... we...
go:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">When the bags come
off they’re taped to folding chairs in a too-small room somewhere underground,
pipes overhead and a drain in the floor, rusted squares where the heavy
machinery was removed.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>A cheap
tripod with a video camera—<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">who has video
cameras anymore?</i>—its oversized doll’s eye trained on them expectantly.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Too many men in the room, some of
them with obviously nothing to do, all dressed head-to-toe in mismatched black
wannabe tactical gear, like hasty ninjas.<span class="apple-converted-space">
</span>They confer softly via hand signs and throat mics.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Our heroine taps
an experimental foot, feeling for that battery lick of a ley line—but they had
her in closed-toed stilettos, which meant<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">1) These assholes
knew what they’re doing, and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">2) We’re all
fucked.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Our hero comes
around, hair matted with blood, face puffy with missing teeth.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He turns the whole mess toward her in
a parody of a wan smile.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“I
guess it’s too late for that puppy,” he burbles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“It’s never too late for puppies,” she says, not sure she
means it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">The red light on
the camera winks, signaling self-consciousness, and there’s a man with a Qur’an,
scribbling notes on the pages and tearing them off, handing them to a
subordinate who reads the question with a propaganda snarl.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>This goes on for a confusing amount
of time, seemingly pointless.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">And now there’s
only one page left—I did all I could, I warned you, I asked you to breathe, to
think of kittens, to go on a goddamn picnic—but you kept pushing it, thinking
the worst things, broadcasting your fear at everyone around you, forgetting
that as social animals we are the original internet, texting each other unconsciously
and shitting all over each other’s face—book pages everywhere we go.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>And now there’s no stopping it, the
situation has amassed a gravity all its own and we’ve danced at the event
horizon too long.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">There’s a final
statement, shouted, punctuated by fists in the air and the man who knows how to
hold a knife pulls our hero’s chin back—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">—and we wonder at
that last good moment before the ayahuasca hit, before the trigger pull, before
the wheels locked and screamed on wet asphalt, before an abstract notion like “cancer”
took the only irreplaceable thing, when something that can’t be seen or stabbed
came out of nowhere and irrevocably kinked the flow of your life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">We’re going to
skip the part where everyone is crying—well, not everyone, but you get the
point.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">He held it blade
away, pinprick tip at the side of the neck where it would plunge through the
soft tissue just in front of the spine and out the other side, then extend
forward to tear all the plumbing out in one go—none of that amateur-hour sawing
bullshit that might work for the drama of the stage but is needlessly
frustrating for everyone involved in real life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">She wants to
scream that she loves him, she wants to scream them all dead, but she can’t
because I make her say something else, something that would look cool in a
comic book word balloon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">He strains against
the hand on his chin, the point at his neck harder than Satan’s Job-bet boner,
and through clenched and broken teeth he replies:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Say it in French, baby.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">And you’re
thinking to yourself, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">What the fuck does
that have to do with anything?</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>But
there was a small detail I dropped way back in the third paragraph like a
shotgun shell rolled under a car seat in the first act of a cheap thriller, a
fact that you’ve no doubt completely forgotten:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">SHE LEARNED FRENCH IN HAITI<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">from a dead mouth
answering the call from beyond that dark horizon, and when she speaks it the
machinery beneath the world sits up and listens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p1">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2" style="mso-outline-level: 1;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">So she repeats herself:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSfXlGupgjY7drwRT9nOzLHxGTl_hKrqJeBM4gtPDjUCY2sQGIEFuNBz2vfjlY2L3SplqxNcexK67vGcNqzAza9ibsAsuVy4BPCQA5uKZw6YMQHuW0_7hizpIJdSDgeT6Y7MWb-dimVA/s1600/french.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="30" data-original-width="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSfXlGupgjY7drwRT9nOzLHxGTl_hKrqJeBM4gtPDjUCY2sQGIEFuNBz2vfjlY2L3SplqxNcexK67vGcNqzAza9ibsAsuVy4BPCQA5uKZw6YMQHuW0_7hizpIJdSDgeT6Y7MWb-dimVA/s1600/french.png" /></span></a></div>
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</span><div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">And whatever it is
that lies coiled inside of dice unfurls as the blade slips in—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times"; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzLxkjkVFPDJfD7-NxZYR3zVRB-06tHOuHzYtkBlDdf0h8vsXV7HYhuckPQT4WY25stU2GoSMiRDuJ-E6BMjHBc736pUs_j9e95iMEnlSUcBLfdvCgkMyF6PgHTBG8t_1-jYpGEmUxIw/s1600/happyforever.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" data-original-height="521" data-original-width="432" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzLxkjkVFPDJfD7-NxZYR3zVRB-06tHOuHzYtkBlDdf0h8vsXV7HYhuckPQT4WY25stU2GoSMiRDuJ-E6BMjHBc736pUs_j9e95iMEnlSUcBLfdvCgkMyF6PgHTBG8t_1-jYpGEmUxIw/s400/happyforever.jpg" width="330" /></span></a></div>
<div class="p2">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br />
</span><div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">5. Play video.</span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal; min-height: 17px;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="line-height: normal;">
<span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;">6. Enjoy pie.</span></div><div style="line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: courier; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></div>
Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-75788247726606889222016-11-23T08:47:00.003-08:002020-10-28T17:11:22.391-07:00While We Were Waiting to Be Cannibals<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhJ_50zPd1tI3Bmah-Aa7o_jRC3kDwhbvbVL-94bhmGMKf9JpFH1Klm9bf_awtHRjOSWMYGXvLEmWdsSdeapmyWG5iUOF89Cw38-G7Ee4ZmYn48NLfYORBTDxlwB2AKiINPpyw9DZbw/s1600/boarding+pass+official+23+Nov.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdhJ_50zPd1tI3Bmah-Aa7o_jRC3kDwhbvbVL-94bhmGMKf9JpFH1Klm9bf_awtHRjOSWMYGXvLEmWdsSdeapmyWG5iUOF89Cw38-G7Ee4ZmYn48NLfYORBTDxlwB2AKiINPpyw9DZbw/s320/boarding+pass+official+23+Nov.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />
She left me when she found the secret baby that wasn't mine. And the morning had started out so well: woken up with a slow blowjob, a segue into straight-up fucking, the master/servant kind with hair pulling and less-than-gentle biting—because most people like stuff they claim to hate when the pants come off—and then a balls-deep, pain-face cumshot followed by “dutifully” pleasuring her (used here in an ironic fashion as it’s the secret pride of all men who can make their woman come with slow strokes and a firm tongue, face slick as a glazed donut).<br />
<br />
Did I mention that she shot me?<br />
<br />
I had kept the baby anesthetized but started tapering off in anticipation of the meal—you won’t believe the shit we put in our meat and how bad it is for us—and it peeped and she found it. I figured this out because she came back into the bedroom with a jittery gun at the end of her sweaty arm, the black O of the barrel wiggling between her wide, white eyes. It was a Smith & Wesson Airweight 642 double-action revolver, the one with the shaved hammer, a hunk of metal and possibility hovering between our naked, just-fucked selves.<br />
<br />
“Baby,” I said, “I can explain.”<br />
<br />
Her face kinked at that, a reflection of the discontinuous stresses in her mind as if the <i>craziest thing possible</i> had just somehow gone <i>even crazier</i>, and she pulled the trigger.<br />
<br />
<i>Stuff that’s not like in the movies: bottoming out in pussy, getting shot.</i><br />
<br />
I didn’t hear it, but the flash seemed to painlessly dislocate my soul with a queasy kind of vertigo, mostly with the mantra OH GOD I’VE BEEN SHOT on autorepeat like it could melt the universe.
<br />
<br />
Luckily for all of us it was just a weepy flesh wound, and I sincerely hope it made her feel better as neurology has shown that there’s no such thing as Free Will—there’s only Free <i>Won’t</i>. We are each of us hurtling full-speed through life—and man, Nature wants us to run all-out—so the gas pedal’s got a cinder block on it and all we got is the occasional hand on the wheel or the e-brake and there are times when you know you should pull it but for some reason you don’t, usually because it’s pretty awesome to go through a fruit stand at sixty miles an hour. Of course, pulling the trigger could’ve been her trying to put the brakes on something, exactly what we’ll never know. I didn’t hurt her if that’s what you’re thinking—that’s not who I am—but I did break some of kind of record getting my gunshot self out of there.<br />
<br />
We made love on account of my business trip, and it turns out you can get through airport security with a gunshot wound if you patch it up first. I had the aisle seat next to a gregarious fence salesman, the kind who finds a way to engage you, shake hands and somehow give you his card before you’re really aware of what’s happening, level ground giving way gently to a sudden rollercoaster drop. At some point he said, “Well, that’s me—what about you?”<br />
<br />
So I told him about inspecting meat packing plants, and the shit we put in our meat and how bad it is for us, but that the people at the plants are somehow taller and stronger and have clearer skin and eyes than the rest of us, they’re lighter on their feet and move with an animal grace that sneaks up and surprises you when you could’ve <i>sworn</i> you were paying attention. And they stand so close and smell <i>so good</i>, their breath is sweet and unrestrained. I told him about sneaking away—as difficult as that is given the nature of these magnificent creatures—and seeking the rooms only the initiated or the doomed may find, and that in so doing I hoped not to expose them but to become one of their number, with access to superior health, ancient racial memory, the power to make women cum with a whisper…<br />
<br />
He seemed less interested than he should have been, but then making women cum with a whisper is one of those mundane superpowers that anyone can have if they just pay attention.<br />
<br />
The zaftig middle-aged flight attendant with the thick, glossy braids and homemade beef jerky book warned us of turbulence over the mountains and bade us to strap in. I thought of her perfect teeth, plucked and sucked to get that little dangly bit of soft pulp at the end—was it worth the effort? Or just another dead end in the labyrinth of such things, an afternoon of anticipation struck down by an evening of disappointment? I didn’t need searching and discovery—what I needed was a goddamn <i>map</i>.<br />
<br />
The turbulence had us by the guts and nuts when the door to the flight deck opened and the pilots stepped out smooth as bear fat. A wave of <i>what-the-fuck</i> rolled through the cabin and then the captain turned to his copilot and said, “Hail Xom, brother.”<br />
<br />
“Hail Xom,” the copilot replied and they both pulled splash guards down over their faces.<br />
<br />
“You will stay in your fucking seats,” the captain said in a mild German accent, a Smith & Wesson Airweight 642 double-action revolver, the one with the shaved hammer, held with casual flop-wristed menace.<br />
<br />
The plane lurched, and then rolled smoothly onto its side and over as if driven by the rising screams of the passengers. The pilots walked on walls, transitioning to the ceiling with the ease of dancers who knew the tune as we hung upside-down from insufficient seat belts, heads dangling in the void below us.<br />
<br />
“Hans, if you would be so kind,” said the captain.<br />
<br />
The copilot produced two long, curved fillet knives, glistening with potential. “It would be an honor,” he said. He turned and spread his arms and sprinted down the cabin ceiling, four good steps ahead of a patter of red rain.<br />
<br />
Several red-blooded Americans in the rear of the plane immediately unbuckled, crashed to the ceiling, rose—and were shot down one by one, lazy headshots from the hip, neatly missing Hans, like a goddamn movie.<br />
<br />
I unbuckled, too, and the gun clicked but the captain was dry, or perhaps it was because I was pre-shot, in one of those recursive interfoldings of reality where I was meant to be shot, would always <i>be</i> shot, it just happened with a needle skip on a different groove but it’s all the same hunk of spinning vinyl after all.<br />
<br />
Hans skidded into me as I stood, his twin blades angled for some of the best parts of me, but I am a motherfucking meat packing plant inspector and know my way around knives. We hit the ceiling and I thought about that baby as we wrestled, about how it <i>just wasn’t fair</i> that these people should have the best stuff while hiding it from the rest of us—not everyone would want it anyway, and there would always be plenty more to eat. I would prove myself worthy by being as unappetizing as possible.<br />
<br />
Things were going inevitably bad—his strength was prodigious—when my knee found his groin and I turned a wrist in his surprise and opened him to the world.<br />
<br />
It takes time to go like that, and when all the noise was out of him I staggered to unsteady feet.<br />
<br />
The ceiling between me and the captain was slick with blood.<br />
<br />
“I just want to be one of you,” I said calmly.<br />
<br />
“You fool!” he yelled, “Xom chooses the worthy!”<br />
<br />
“Perhaps Xom has chosen <i>me</i>,” I replied, beginning to walk toward him.<br />
<br />
“It doesn’t work that way!” he screamed.<br />
<br />
“Maybe it does!” I yelled, running now.<br />
<br />
“It really doesn’t!” he said as we collided and fell into the cockpit.<br />
<br />
I lunged and seized the yoke overhead—I would right this plane and save us all, not to expose them but to become one of their number, with access to superior health, ancient racial memory, the power to make women cum with a whisper…<br />
<br />
The captain pistol-whipped me furiously, cursing like a barbarian but I had reached a place where resolve trumps pain, on the edge of power, just around the corner from the face of God, and I would not be moved by normal means as I pulled and plane began to tilt. We grappled in slow motion, his hands over mine, a caress, resisting with the power of however many men he ate, and I reached up with my mouth and closed it on his hand, the flesh giving way beneath my teeth, the crunch of bone and the promise of marrow, a gush of blood like sunlight into a dark room, it tasted—<br />
<br />
It tasted—<br />
<br />
It tasted <i>AWFUL</i>.<br />
<br />
Like a wet monkey that had shit on the Moon, a neglected pet that had somehow clung to life by eating garbage dump diapers. In my moment of absolute triumph, I gagged.<br />
<br />
<i>Stuff that’s not like in the movies: eating people, rolling an airliner.</i><br />
<br />
They don’t tell you that it slides like a half-mile straight down when you turn it on its side.<br />
<br />
“Oh sweet Christ you’ve ruined <i>everything</i>,” wept the captain as mountainside filled the windscreen.
<br />
<br />
</span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><span style="font-size: medium;">
•</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">•</span><span style="font-size: medium;">•</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>
Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-21646909299314033342016-09-19T12:22:00.003-07:002020-10-28T17:00:47.683-07:00Endnotes from the New Phrenology<div style="min-height: 18px;"><span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="min-height: 18px;"><span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Three thousand feet beneath the North Pole, not even Santa can touch you. Sure, he could send waves of elves into the deep, and he has in the past, in epic pointy-eared pile-ups that put the Great War to shame, but today he'd keep his dick in his pants if he knew what was good for him. This deep-sea no man's land was about to become wizard country.</span></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The Soviet-era nuclear sub <i>Koldun</i> creaked and dripped with the immense pressures from above, hovering uneasy in that icy black. Even the long-dead crew—waterlogged bodies driven by ghosts the way you'd still use a ruined hand to drink a cup of milk—felt the remnants of dread stirring in their putrefied brains. Being dead spared you no misery where wizards were concerned; the Ref made sure of that. He had the crew gut the command center, originally designed to oversee a sliver of Armageddon, and put up arc lights and bleachers and a boxing ring complete with carved basalt turnbuckles and eerie ropes. The canvas was the <i>actual</i> Shroud of Turin, more than big enough on account of what most people don't know is that Jesus was 12 feet tall and fat as fuck. And above it all, dangling in a golden cage, the prize that men would do anything for: The Fairy Queen. She was shiny and mini-voluptuous and curvy with rainbow insect wings, inches high, sure, but only one <i>shrink</i> spell away from heaven.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The Ref smiled with his smiling mouth. "You ready for this? To be won by blood and rage?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Fuck off," she spat.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Satisfied, the Ref nodded to Prince—not <i>a</i> prince or <i>the</i> prince, but <i>Prince </i>Prince, who plugged in his electric purple guitar with a sound like sex and the hum of the æther and drew his fingers along the strings in a sotto voce note comprised of pure soul that rose into a face-shredding wail of a revenant, a sound that thrummed mind and metal and miles of seawater out into the heart of the sun and so into all suns that shine on all worlds where things creep and hop and bite. This, this was the siren call heard by every last wizard, living and dead alike. <i>Come and fight</i>, it said.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
And come they did.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Like a nerd convention for psychopaths, cosplaying mini-Hitlers every one, in sumptuous robes and capes with enormous cowls and star-spangled pointy hats and skullcaps and thigh boots and even one in soiled tights. Gripped in fists that had strangled things both fair and foul were crooked wands carved from the bones of impossible beasts, as well as soul-shearing staves dripping with baubles, trinkets and gewgaws like the charm bracelets of the damned. Every last man was epically bearded, beards being the true measure of a wizard, for in the wizarding game "old" was a synonym for "seen some shit". The longer the beard the deeper the tombs, the more glyphs in the True Names of demons, the greater the pyre of upstart barbarian thieves who had dared step across the threshold of your sanctum sanctorum. An impressive beard was wizard for, "If I made it <i>this</i> far, what the fuck are you gonna do?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
As each one arrived he was announced by the Ref's announcing mouth, booming and inflected with drama:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Fenris the Effulgent."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Tchormium, Khan of the Ages!"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Aktmnembitor, Wind in the Sails of the Turning of Worlds."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Eeeviscerator Priiime!" (Whose actual name turned out to be Percy.)</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
And, after more than an hour of this: "Toby—ah, okay, just... Toby."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The ones you really had to look out for, everyone knew, had the smallest names—like Ked or Zet or Om—or even had no name at all. Those guys just didn't give a shit, and that translated into an outsized awfulness in the ring—biting, eye-gouging, genital mutilation.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Hey, Toby," Fenris sneered, stroking his luxurious Fu Manchu with thumb and forefinger, an ensorcelled monkey glaring from his shoulder. "Back for more, eh?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Toby pulled his sumptuous robes closer about himself. "We'll see, fuck-face." He tried not to think about something that wasn't even a memory because that memory had been knocked clean out of his head—it was just a grainy instant-replay, Fenris punching the wind from Toby's guts and then taking his time to line up the shot that simultaneously removed parts of Toby's past and a decent chunk of his future. Second grade was just plain gone and the inevitable pugilistic Parkinson's meant there would come a day, facing a barbarian thief in his own home, when, instead of a bone-roasting fireball he'd pull a rabbit out of a hat. And that would be that.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"You might not remember me," Fenris chortled, "but my balls remember your mouth."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Something inside Toby popped and he snapped into the air, pre-cast spells lighting off in a blinding swirl of arcane energies, roaring and seeking even as Fenris did the same, the two of them rising toward the ceiling like a neon dogfight.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"ENOUGH!" bellowed the Ref with his bellowing mouth, a sound that sucked the magic from the room. The two wizards fell like cats, Toby catching himself neatly on both feet even as Fenris staggered and needed a hand on a bleacher to steady himself. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Toby grinned and cracked his knuckles. <i>Save it for the ring</i>, he thought-pushed into Fenris' startled mind.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"SAVE IT FOR THE RING!" bellowed the Ref with his bellowing mouth.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The crowd chanted along half-heartedly: "Sa-save it for the ring."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Now," said the Ref with his saying mouth, "you know the rules. Nude. Bare-knuckles. No magic items! Powers to be held in escrow by demons, stripped as you pass through the ropes. Do we all understand?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The crowd murmured assent.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Because misunderstandings can <i>end</i> you."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
That was an understatement. Toby had seen with his own eyes, in years past, wizards so invested in their powers that they had forgotten how much they leaned on them, like Zarius the Unclean whose rune-etched skeleton was deemed illegal as he crossed the ropes, causing him to collapse into an undulating sack of organs as the bell rang. The other wizard, being a wizard, acted before the Ref could call it and stomped Zarius' brains out his mouth-hole. Then there was the time that The Forgotten One forgot he'd been dead for seven thousand years and poofed to dust in the ring; his foe, Kletsch the Something-or-other, gleefully declared himself the winner by default even as he choked on that dust cloud, though the last laugh would be had nine months later when that wicked cough Kletsch could never seem to shake metastasized into a vicious lung cancer that turned out to be the magnificent rebirth of The Forgotten One, whose fetus seized Kletsch's heart and ate it before birthing himself through the death-spasming asshole.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The Ref nodded solemnly. "Then we can begin."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The dead sailors unveiled the tournament bracket, etched on rusty deckplate and spread like a Class IV Mothman's wings, the outer edges decaying toward the final match in the center. Toby noted with a warm feeling in his groin that he and Fenris were on opposite sides of the bracket...</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
And so they began.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Two-by-two came these beings of raw intellect and will, will that could bend the very fabric of space-time and make even demigods kneel, their bodies clothed in the skins of mythic beasts or the stolen veils of alien goddesses, heads and necks and wrists and fingers bespangled with objects forged in hell, or the guts of dying worlds, or the minds of sleeping children—in a word, <i>wizards</i>—they came and stood before the ropes and mugged for the crowd, waving arms or crossing them like petty dictators, nodding with overweening faces, a smugness that begged to be slapped if only you were that strong. These Great Men who had enslaved nations, made pets of demons and spelunked the sunspots of yet-unseen stars became something else entirely when they passed through the boundary of the ropes—</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<i><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Toothless old men.</span></i></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Stooped and gnarled, rebel flesh hanging in body-wide wattles, skin pocked with scars that scribed outdated maps of depravity as well as more than one mole that someone should really take a look at. Genitals either shriveled into dirty gray-tufted lairs or hideously distended to flap between knobby knees. As for hair—those who still had it—it was greasy and stringy and made you feel like taking a shower because photons that had bounced off of it ended up somewhere inside your eyes. Beards that were once the fragrantly-oiled man-fur surrounding a literal Pit of Doom were rendered as stinking, mangy pelts, speaking more of alcohol and schizophrenia and dumpster fires than Ultimate Power.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The ship's bell rang the first round.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
We're not going to waste any more time here—the truth of the matter is that these hateful old men had quite a bit of trouble putting each other down. What should have been a brutal rendering of the "sweet science" was more often a slap-fight where someone ended up crying uncle over an accidental finger in the eye. Rounds never went past the first one before someone quit, as evidenced by the bored ring girls in their milkshake bikinis and high heels, and the lonely cut-men who would never be asked to staunch a bleeding eyebrow while muttering encouragements. Mostly the fun was in watching Lurïed the Sky-Slayer close his eyes and turn his face away as he windmilled ineffectually at Noltch of God-Skull Mountain who was doing the same until one of them fell down and cried.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
And the crowd goes wild.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Every now and then there were fights that became legend when they flipped the script—while everyone enjoys a good comeuppance, there's something to be said for the outré, and brain damage. This year's crop did not disappoint; nestled among the usual suspects there was a wizard who turned up with his familiar—a homunculus of himself—that did not vanish upon stepping into the ring, but instead flanked him as he closed on his rival who squeaked, "Wait—that can't be fair!" The rival tried to get the Ref's attention but the Ref was busy chatting up a ring girl with his chatting up mouth and so the mini-wizard bit the rival's rancid nuts as the big one slapped the scream out of his mouth, bringing the crowd to its feet.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Then there was the wizard in a filth-crusted My Little Pony sleeping bag with duct-tape for shoes, speaking in tongues—someone in the crowd did the math and began shouting, "Hey, hey, <i>hey</i>! Dude's not actually a wizard!" And boy, was he right. The dude crossed the ropes, still clad as above, and closed on his opponent with a viciousness that spoke not of sundered Laws of Nature but of the promise of a half-eaten burrito and a forty of malt liquor five minutes from now. It turns out you can be strangled with a sleeping bag, and it's apparently within the rules—at least it was today.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Finally, it was Toby's turn. He faced off against <span style="color: #232323;">*</span> the Unpronounceable, resplendent in his unicorn-fur belly shirt and Pantaloons of Scrying. <span style="color: #232323;">*</span> was one of the good guys, nodding appreciably toward Toby from outside the ropes before stepping in—</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The crowd hushed as if struck dumb. In one corner, weighing a buck-twenty soaking wet was the emaciated, dissipated form of <span style="color: #232323;">*</span>—and in the other stood Toby, his old-man head atop the gleaming, bulging Adonis of a forty-year-old gym rat. Toby was easily 240, and could bench twice that. He returned the appreciable nod as the bell rang and threw a punch as sure as a knife that has tasted meat, an uppercut that clacked <span style="color: #232323;">*</span>'s gums and rolled his eyes white with permanent stupidity even as it took him off his feet.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
This was the drumbeat of Toby's day. <i>Step in, knock out.</i> Soon, his hideously-forewarned competitors tried running from him, to quit the ring before he could lay his terrible hands upon them—but always he was one step ahead, and the only way they left the ring was on a hasty stretcher one of the ring girls had dug up somewhere.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The only difficulty he encountered on his steady march toward the center of that dread bracket was from a random sorcerer from an uncataloged plane who turned out to have been long-ago de-souled and repossessed by something that got stripped out at the ropes—rendering him a slack-eyed, drooling, unrelenting meat-machine. There was nothing in his skull but the hiss of hunger, he felt no pain, and standard boxing practice did nothing but keep him momentarily at bay. Toby looked to the Ref, who shrugged his many shoulders, and so Toby seized the thing—careful to avoid the snapping jaws that still had enough teeth to be dangerous—and set to the work of manually dislocating as many large joints as possible. The Ref called it in Toby's favor twenty wince-inducing minutes later.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
And so the hate of ancient feuds withered until only two remained: Toby... and Fenris. The Ref hyped the crowd with his hyping mouth for this final match and then bid the combatants to step into the ring. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Toby ducked under, and the Fenris who stepped through the ropes somehow retained his youthful aspect, unnaturally lithesome and tan, muscles corded like a diagram, magnificent cock and balls heavy with genetic superiority. His ensorcelled monkey was still perched on his shoulder, glaring. Surprise flashed through Toby, then grim determination followed in its wake. <i>Cheating motherfucker</i>, he thought, careful to keep it to himself. <i>He's in cahoots with the rope-demons—promised them half a Fairy Queen, no doubt.</i> The monkey smiled a terrible little smile that normal monkeys don't know, eyes flickering with recognition and a sophisticated, anticipatory hunger.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Cheater," said Toby.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"And the kettle's smoking pot," Fenris rejoined, "What sorcery is this?" He indicated Toby's man-mansion with a snide wave of his hand.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Toby flexed and thought he saw Fenris retract his chin a fraction of an inch. "Nothing but a steady diet of stallion blood and iron," he grunted.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Be sure to send me the recipe," Fenris laughed, "Or I can always get it from your next of kin at my funeral."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Toby smiled with his mouth.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Uh, <i>your</i> funeral, I mean," stumbled Fenris.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The bell rang and the crowd filled the metal tube of the sub with the reverberations of raw, unfiltered loathing that pushed back against the frustrated ocean, making the entire hulk creak and ping. Even the Fairy Queen was on her perfect feet, wee fists pumping the stale air.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Fenris held himself loose, twitching his skeleton like a restless whip. Toby raised his leg-like arms and one of his eyebrows.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Jeet Kune Do—trained by the bound shade of Bruce Lee himself!" exulted Fenris, wiping the thumb of a curled hand across the tip of his nose.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Toby shrugged, a geologic gesture, and stepped forward.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Fenris danced backward, feet blurring in an intricate weave, then reversed suddenly, his body twisting the way you'd throw a right, but he conjured a left out of it somehow. Toby arched backwards, turning his head to the side beneath the blow, the breeze of it caressing his cheek.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Fenris uncoiled from the feint to throw the real deal and Toby turned, elbows in, fists tucked against his face like a mantis, and the shot skidded off his forearms.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Then came a loopy hook in surprised follow-up, which Toby ducked, coming up the other side into a half-assed open-hand slap, the kind you'd give to a hysterical celebrity. Fenris staggered back, eyes burning, Fu Manchu bristling. He immediately launched a confusing and mutable flurry of Wing Chun foot- and handwork, the stuff you'd subject a wooden dummy to in a misty mountain temple courtyard. Toby rolled and faded and slid his head away from every motion like a superior dance partner accepting a lazy lead—nothing but pure choreography. After a full minute of this Fenris was wheezing, arms dropped that imperceptible inch that puts the brain at risk. "Motherfucker hold <i>still!</i>" he shouted. "Who the fuck you train with, Michael Jackson?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"No one in particular," Toby said and popped Fenris clean in the nose, bloodying it magnificently.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Fenris rebounded off the shot and swung into the attack as Toby fake-stumbled back, making everything miss by inches. The monkey-demon screeched pure rage, tiny hands hugging Fenris' head, buried in his Fu Manchu as he tried to <i>Ratatouille</i> him into something that would actually land. Toby fell back against the ropes, fists over his face, elbows covering liver and spleen and the crowd sighed. Fenris' stance flickered through an encyclopedia of kung fu, an effortless zoetrope of puissance, to find just the thing to unlock Toby's cage of meat and bone. The monkey-demon twisted and Fenris' blur settled into a mode of attack: <i>The Pantomime of Hands-Like-Water.</i> </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The assault began as a gentle rain, rain that fell in larger and larger drops until it was the deluge of a rising waterfall, a hundred feet, a thousand, and then miles high into the clouds where thunder lives. The monkey-demon screamed and screamed, exhorting Fenris to find that elusive thunderclap. Toby held under the onslaught at first, letting the ropes cushion the blows from the back while resting just as he had been taught, but that sky-high shit was starting to <i>hurt</i>. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Through his sheltering arms Toby saw the monkey-demon's eyes wide and slavering, fangs glistening at the thought of eating an <i>entire</i> Fairy Queen, for it had no intention of suffering the indignity of <i>merely half</i>. It was then that Toby heard the distant rumble of thunder and thought a thought transmitted mere days ago, while doing bongs with the helpful spirit of Mohammad Ali: "Float like Edgar Allen Poe on laudanum and sting like a critic. But mostly, make 'em taste the gutter."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Toby bunched his right hand into the Akkadian sign for <i>Throne of God</i> and threw the punch straight at Fenris' stupid face, which slid to the left to make it pass over his shoulder—<i>just like Toby knew it would</i>—putting the screaming monkey-demon right in the path of that meat and bone locomotive. With a wet <i>smuck</i> the punch peeled the monkey-demon clean off, stripping away half of Fenris' Fu Manchu with it. The split-second dilated into a day and Fenris turned his head in super slo-mo to look after the missing monkey, angling his chin perfectly to catch the Number Two train to Sleepy Town—a cruel left driven by Toby's mass entire. Toby lanced Fenris through the skull a good three feet, the drastic change in momentum rippling through brain tissue, different densities making shorelines of breaking waves, tearing tiny bleeds like lightning traces through the meat, shorn axons releasing a whitewash of neurotransmitters straight into the hardware of the soul. If brains give rise to minds, then kicking the meat out from under the ghost makes <i>being</i> like trying to change a lightbulb while standing on a two-legged stool: <i>Gravity gonna do its thing.</i></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Insensate, Fenris consigned himself to the planet's embrace, kissing the Lord's canvas with the back of his head, arms already curled in the "fencer's pose", the crude hand-jive of deep brainstem injuries. The crowd surged to its feet, howling, even as Fenris' impressive cock stiffened in angry, defiant pulses and began to spit thick ropes of jizz all over his curled and twitching form. <i>Never the same again</i>, it spelled out in pearly glyphs.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-large;">\*/</span></b></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The inevitable riot was put down by the rope-demons who corralled the whipped-dog wizards into a single-file line past the glittering loot pile of abandoned artifacts the demons had no use for—everyone was encouraged to take one as a memento before being unceremoniously hurled into a crackling, eye-watering rift in space and time that led back to whatever transdimensional bolt-hole they called home. At least one hoped.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Toby sat, quiet, on the edge of the ring while the demons cleaned up, their spindly bulks darting to and fro from the edges of vision, the unsettling motion accompanied by the soft sounds of weeping children and masonry falling from great heights. Above, the Fairy Queen let herself out of her cage and fluttered down in a lazy spiral, hovering briefly before alighting on her bifurcated feet next to Toby, where she dropped cross-legged and began smoking a grain-of-rice cigarette.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"We gotta be clear, you and me," she exhaled.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Toby nodded. "You're not coming with me."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
She grinned like they were sharing a secret. "Nope."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"That's okay," he said with a frown, "I did this to save you anyway."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
She pulled a face and blew a wisp of smoke. "No, I'm pretty sure you did it 'cuz you hated that guy."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Fenris rolled by in a demon-swept pile of bodies, jittering with seizure and loudly shitting himself as he went.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"No love lost, certainly," Toby sighed, "but I always thought it would end differently—you know, all-or-nothing atop some impossible mountain, or with... armies of... plasma golems... on the surface of the sun, something cool like that." </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
She smiled. "Worked for me."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Toby regarded her.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"What I mean is, I like watching men fight."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
He nodded. "And here I thought I was doing something awesome for you."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
She giggled. "Well, you were, just not the way you thought. Sorry." She shrugged her tiny, rounded shoulders and flicked her cigarette two inches away. "Besides," she said, pointing at him and narrowing her compound eyes, "you cheated. How did you get sorcery past the demons?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Biological telepath</i>, he thought-pushed into her. <i>No magic to it—just sympathetic vibrations in the æther.</i></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
She clicked her fingers. "I <i>knew</i> it! So—" she put a hand to her temple in mock-concentration "—are you thinking what I'm thinking?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
He blinked. "Pancakes?"</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Don't mind if we do! We'll go to my place—I have kitchen staff. You'll need about a million pancakes, but they'll do whatever I say or get pulled apart like <i>bugs</i>." She tittered at that and rose on buzzing wings, pinching the end of Toby's thumbnail in her hand to pull him along.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Toby looked back one last time before that blazing portal as the mortal remains of Fenris the Effulgent, Sword of the Lunar Dawn, Prolocutor of Bespoke Hells, danced the final stanza of his saga that had been so damn good for so damn long, only to end with a dull, wet splat no bard would dare curl his lips around.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Because while "head-fakes" rhymes with "pancakes" no one's going to ever pay for that shit.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: x-large;">~</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div>
Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-87494443709266702912015-10-29T16:16:00.006-07:002020-10-28T17:11:05.095-07:00MYSTERY HOUSE<div style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Ts6Is-ahIUWYaNzS0vfsI48qEQeCMHjGyZ8evoOi3MsHk8MC5kYvXQqGxh9SeEooFqJqterDPDU4PXE6_VMrUOiqU_LRRP6Ke_OutbP8M_uHSZUBpkKzZkWhG-wygSLi4_qLEkPv8g/s1600/MH+Map.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Ts6Is-ahIUWYaNzS0vfsI48qEQeCMHjGyZ8evoOi3MsHk8MC5kYvXQqGxh9SeEooFqJqterDPDU4PXE6_VMrUOiqU_LRRP6Ke_OutbP8M_uHSZUBpkKzZkWhG-wygSLi4_qLEkPv8g/s320/MH+Map.jpg" width="247" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>A Choose-Your-Own-Adventure Story.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Suitable for children.</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />
<span><b>START HERE</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>The moon oozes into a starless black above the peaked and jutting roof of the place, the inky-windowed bulk of it squatting in the mist, leaning almost imperceptibly away, as if gathering itself to strike. It's not quite what you expected, being so much more. Like something out of a bad mid-century horror comic, dilapidated even then, but with 70 more years of decay on top of that. Gables and gambrels and garrets, sagging shit Lovecraft would have recognized as the parts of a place people once lived, but now only where something <i>Beyond Evil</i> lurks. A wrought-iron-prickled container for <i>Things That Should Not Be</i>, looking for all the world like the frozen head of Walt Disney sucked off the French Quarter.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>They said not to come, everyone knows better than to come, but having finished that awful business with the vibrating mummy—God rest the souls of the fallen—here you are. Recovered, mostly, except for a slight limp and the odd blackout moment, but full again with hate and a terrible resolve.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You grimace and make a crackling fist. A rivulet of blood drips from your knuckles.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>It ends tonight—the Mystery House is <i>done</i>.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>hate</span><br />
<span>terrible resolve</span><br />
<span>witch-hunting kit</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>WALK UP STEPS</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>CHECK AROUND BACK</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You have chosen:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>WALK UP STEPS</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>This is the kind of protesting, rotten-wood portico that could snap an ankle upon hasty retreat—just the sort of non-diabolical hero-killer that witches aren't known for, but should be. You'd imagine it's all black magic and demon familiars and hideous transformations but it's much more likely to be shit like this, a Halloween prop shaken vigorously in the face, the backpedaling, the snapped ankle and then a quotidian monkey shanking. Or, like that one time in Prague, an electrified bed frame suspended over a window, a bit of real-world magic that kills one while shattering the minds of everyone else within screaming and smelling distance. You make a mental note to jump the steps should it come to that.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You take a step or two toward the door—a mildly luminescing tangle of angles that seems interested in meeting you halfway—your hand is on the baroque knocker before you realize what you've done.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>hate</span><br />
<span>terrible resolve</span><br />
<span>witch-hunting kit</span><br />
<span>mental note</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>KNOCK</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>GO TO LIQUOR STORE FOR TEQUILA AND COUGH SYRUP</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>GO TO LIQUOR STORE FOR TEQUILA AND COUGH SYRUP</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>It's a well-lit and suspicious place, midnight stragglers hustling personal demons, furtive, judged and judgmental. No real eye contact, just lots of glances. The dude by the dumpster makes your hand itch for the Glock in your witch-hunting kit—you did remember the Glock, right? Or was it the sawed-off? Or was the sawed-off just the truncheon, similar in the hand and mind? <i>Shit shit shit.</i> You stand between the aisles of stuff shaped like want-holes, frozen, and what you want is to rummage the duffel and put that itchy hand on the Glock or the sawed-off and not the truncheon but there are at least six eyes glancing past you repeatedly, slashing at your equanimity, and an array of CCTV cameras that can probably see your thoughts like closed-captioning. You take a breath and a swig of cough syrup.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>"Hey, man," says the cashier, "You gonna pay for that?"</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>"I always do," you reply.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>hate</span><br />
<span>terrible resolve</span><br />
<span>witch-hunting kit</span><br />
<span>tequila</span><br />
<span>cough syrup</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>TALK TO CASHIER</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>GET ON WITH IT ALREADY</b></span><br />
<span><b><br /></b></span>
<span><b><br /></b></span>
<br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>TALK TO CASHIER</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>The look on his face is one you've seen before, too often, so you hit him again. He goes down, taking the folding chair he's duct-taped to with him to the cracked basement floor. He coughs teeth and wails. "I <i>told</i> you I don't <i>know</i> anything!"</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>"So you admit you're a mindless pawn."</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>"What? What <i>pawn</i>?!"</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You give him an extra-hard boot to the tummy. Rookie move—it's gonna take him a few minutes to recover, and in the meantime you'll get nothing useful out of him. Just sobs and fluids. The single bare bulb is swinging—must've bumped it with your head—making shadows lurch and pounce. Furniture and old machines, some covered with ghost-shrouds, some naked, a mirror framed in light wood carved like bones, your face, hovering there, in terrible recognition—you've been here before. So many times, before.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You grab him by the hair and yank him upright. The chair's fucked, not rated for this, won't sit up straight. "The <i>house</i>," you hiss, "and the <i>witch</i>."</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>The bulb gutters like flame.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>His face twists. "<i>This</i> place? <i>You're</i> the one who brought <i>me</i> here!"</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>witch-hunting kit</span><br />
<span>horrible realization</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>GET THE FUCK OUT</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>GET ON WITH IT ALREADY</b></span><br />
<span><b><br /></b></span>
<span><b><br /></b></span>
<br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You have chosen:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>GET THE FUCK OUT</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>The hallways are long and dark and full of senseless furniture that's only good for architectural spreads that never show people—or for tripping intruders. The passages <i>twist</i>, but not in the usual way, everything's turning on its long axis. Three steps on the floor, a weird hop to the wall, careful not to put a leg through any doorways, then bootprints on the ceiling while dodging dead light fixtures. You hit the front door floorwise at full steam, knocking it open and hurtle onto the porch, where you put a boot right through the middle step.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You wake on the damp ground, nightsounds all around, having pissed yourself. Your head and ankle throb in synchrony. The house squats, immobile, front door hanging open like a dumb mouth.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>pronounced limp</span><br />
<span>witch-hunting kit</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>GET ON WITH IT ALREADY</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>GO TO BARCELONA</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>GO TO BARCELONA</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Of course, you don't <i>really</i> intend to go to Barcelona. That's just code for a broken arrow situation gone FUBAR, an emergency exfil to a safehouse, probably somewhere in the Balkans. And then a general call for reinforcements.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>The flight, while at the marginal safety of 35,000 feet, does nothing to calm your nerves. You're gonna need something to keep your head in the clouds.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>pronounced limp</span><br />
<span>jangled nerves</span><br />
<span>keister-stashed fiberglass shiv</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>TROUBLE STEWARDESS FOR SLEEPING AID</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>HIJACK PLANE</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>TROUBLE STEWARDESS FOR SLEEPING AID</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i><span>Dear Penthouse Letters,</span><br />
</i></span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i><span>I never thought it could happen to me, but it did. Airplane lavatories are tiny and you'd swear there wasn't enough room to cram two people together in there—let alone have enough space to disrobe sufficiently to snizzle—but you'd be surprised. It probably has something to do with the unconscious needs of evolutionary pressure and how we're genetically inhibited from making a public space where two people can't fuck or designing pants that can't be popped, flopped or twisted quickly into a configuration that allows for genital contact. No matter how hard we try, the ur-chemistry in our blood will always steer us back to a bang-closet and long zippers. Even the most devout ascetic in his "don't touch it" closet, dingwallace safely mortified in a chastity belt, can get shocked erect when a servant of indeterminate gender wriggles into the space buck naked with the key. Turns out in the deepest, darkest sub-basement of the soul there's always water on the floor, seeping, seeping. Her hands on mine, she showed me what she liked, so we did a bunch of that. It didn't make me as sleepy as cough syrup, which would have been nice, but it did make her wink at me for the rest of the flight.</span><br />
</i></span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i><span>Sincerely,</span><br />
</i></span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><i>Name Withheld By Request</i></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>pronounced limp</span><br />
<span>keister-stashed fiberglass shiv</span><br />
<span>mile-high club membership</span><br />
<span>chlamydia</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>RIDE IT OUT</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>NO, REALLY—LET'S HIJACK THIS MOTHERFUCKER</b></span><br />
<span><b><br /></b></span>
<span><b><br /></b></span>
<br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You have chosen:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>RIDE IT OUT</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>After three confusing weeks in Barcelona, you're back.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>mile-high club membership</span><br />
<span>tomahawk</span><br />
<span>plucky sidekick</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>GET ON WITH IT ALREADY</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>TRAIN SIDEKICK</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>GET ON WITH IT ALREADY</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You stand before the night-house in the semi-protective glow of the full moon, panting and wiping the plucky sidekick's blood from your eyes. <i>You told him to run.</i> You told him to run but he <i>had</i> to turn and look. They always do. Unless you train them not to.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>mile-high club membership</span><br />
<span>tomahawk</span><br />
<span>dented shovel</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>WALK UP STEPS</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>CHECK AROUND BACK</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>ENTER GRAVEYARD</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You're only halfway down, like three feet under the headstone, when the shovel hits a lead plug with an inscription.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>THINK ABOUT IT, it says.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>mile-high club membership</span><br />
<span>tomahawk</span><br />
<span>dented shovel</span><br />
<span>doubt</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>DIG IT UP</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>JESUS CHRIST JUST DO WHAT THE PLUG SAYS</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>DIG IT UP</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><i>Fuck plugs.</i> Besides, the grave contains some dude buried head-down with a baby-skull wedged in his mouth.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>mile-high club membership</span><br />
<span>tomahawk</span><br />
<span>dented shovel</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>REMOVE SKULL</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>NO NO NO DON'T TOUCH IT</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>REMOVE SKULL</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You could sell this shit on eBay—the plug, the bound bones, the baby skull, hell, even your underwear "worn by a grave robber during an actual grave robbery; cleaned to eBay standards".</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>mile-high club membership</span><br />
<span>tomahawk</span><br />
<span>dented shovel</span><br />
<span>bundle of bones</span><br />
<span>baby skull</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>SELL ON EBAY</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>CALL IT A NIGHT</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>SELL ON EBAY</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Your roommate's home—still hasn't done the dishes—says he called the police.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>mile-high club membership</span><br />
<span>tomahawk</span><br />
<span>bundle of bones</span><br />
<span>baby skull</span><br />
<span>rage</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>WAIT FOR POLICE</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>CASTIGATE ROOMMATE</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>CASTIGATE ROOMMATE</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>No matter how hard you look, you can't find the parasite. Probably shoulda laid down some plastic first. Red and blue lights dance through the thin curtains. </span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>mile-high club membership</span><br />
<span>tomahawk</span><br />
<span>parasite</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>KICK THE DOOR BEFORE THEY DO</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>FEIGN INNOCENCE</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>KICK THE DOOR BEFORE THEY DO</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You gun the engine of the Rhino Industries Trampler XL police vehicle and three of the six South African riot tires get air off a startled Prius, neatly crimping it in a cloud of sparkling glass. It handles like a pig, the driver-side door is missing—which is annoying—and the radio doesn't get anything but some weird, right-wing talkshow about places you've just been.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>mile-high club membership</span><br />
<span>tomahawk</span><br />
<span>parasite</span><br />
<span>police hat</span><br />
<span>sucking chest wound</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>TAKE A LEFT ON EUCLID</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>HOLY SHIT VIBRATING MUMMY</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>TAKE A LEFT ON EUCLID</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>More than <i>anything</i> you want that hard left, away, away from what is, impossibly, <i>him</i>. Popping and locking and doing his weird vibrating dance across the street, his millennia-wormed vestments snap-fluttering in a cloud behind him. In that awful, sickening moment you realize that all those months of investigation and globetrotting, that burning swath of ruined lives you wiped from the map like so much dust, all culminating in that single, hard night beneath the pyramids, Inishka whispering in your ear "Make it count," and then she was gone, no time to scream, Doc Ambrose rising then, pages of the Book of the Dead in his fist as he barked impossible syllables you could feel in your guts and nuts to bring the whole mass of centuries down upon the Dread Pharaoh's head—all of it, all of it a monumental waste.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>mile-high club membership</span><br />
<span>parasite</span><br />
<span>sucking chest wound</span><br />
<span>regret</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>SWERVE</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>THROW TOMAHA—AW SHIT IT'S GONE</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>SWERVE</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>You haul on the wheel hand-over-hand and the beast groans with inertia as the shocks on one whole side compress, tires fattening with the load but keeping the road as you punch it again and bear down on the flickering thing pinned in the banks of blinding lights. Seconds are sectioned as they swell, the ticking of every clock let out logarithmically long—<i>longer</i>—and then into the silence between worlds where the vibrating mummy dances his blasphemous dance. He steps—and is gone. He steps—</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>—and the grille has him for lunch, then vomits the other half into the hungry wheels where he pops into a cloud of spicy dust.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="text-decoration: underline;"><span>Inventory</span></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>slight limp</span><br />
<span>mile-high club membership</span><br />
<span>parasite</span><br />
<span>sucking chest wound</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>Do you:</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>DRIVE UNTIL THE SNIPER TAKES THE SHOT</b></span><br />
<span>or</span><br />
<span><b>DRIVE THE BREACHING VEHICLE TO THE MYSTERY HOUSE</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span face="sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 22px;">⁂</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You have chosen:</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span><b>DRIVE THE BREACHING VEHICLE TO THE MYSTERY HOUSE</b></span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>In the glare of the 18 halogens it looks like the kind of place kids go to drink and have formative experiences that'll color their first marriage, the kind of place heroin addicts go to get found dead. Light washes evil to banality, and you realize you just shoulda burned the place down in the first paragraph. But your reflexes are failing you—the last thing that always happens just before the end.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>There are no brakes, just an aching right foot holding pedal to the metal, and at least one of choppers tethered to you by silver spotlights is live news—and man, are they ever gonna see something when you kick this hive over. You got what you couldn't get in Barcelona, an entire sting-crazy and heavily armed cavalry riding in your wake. Whatever boils out of that house will go straight into their teeth. It might get you first, but what the hell, that's the end that was destined for you when you first stepped upon the path.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>The light makes the whole façade a million shades of gray, everything dull but for the yawning black mouth of the doorway, an undulating deadspace that seems to shift with every jounce of the Trampler's riot-worn shocks. The engine roars—<i>and the house answers</i>—slapping your blood cold, the steering wheel like ice in your fists. Eyes frozen wide you hit the portico at speed, disintegrating it into a twin-tailed fountain of wet kindling as you plunge into the heart of the house and the darkness folds over you like a thousand nights up to no good. No good at all.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span>And now you know the door was never the way in—it was the way out the whole time.</span><br />
</span><div style="min-height: 14px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />
<br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><b><a href="https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B6BUoWIVB5NeSVB4YTRWc2xWTlk/view?usp=sharing" target="_blank">THE END</a></b></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-76602011146071646152015-02-17T09:46:00.003-08:002020-10-28T17:06:24.996-07:00The part where we're done.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ4E5vPQinATQ1T_qjeBEk3KZi2T6zQzXFO1kQD6CgGGvtjy9CI6dWyLGhZ4-cZJu9NLST20Cg69EsWSOl9F-RZ7nmD2zB51SJhdvZ6TwXCZJyYlP7GYJQ93ekEpVC0LXe7Dhqs9P6pg/s1600/nagasaki-1945.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" height="149" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ4E5vPQinATQ1T_qjeBEk3KZi2T6zQzXFO1kQD6CgGGvtjy9CI6dWyLGhZ4-cZJu9NLST20Cg69EsWSOl9F-RZ7nmD2zB51SJhdvZ6TwXCZJyYlP7GYJQ93ekEpVC0LXe7Dhqs9P6pg/s1600/nagasaki-1945.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />
</span><div>
<b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Part I — All-in on alien.</span></b></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
On the screens above their rainbow heads it's all tentacle sex, gaping and surging, eyes wide and watering, what happens, perhaps, when your culture gets gut-punched by two nukes. Below it's all human-enough—people-shaped, smells unfamiliar but not outright wrong, sounds like laughter, anger, need—it's just that it's not coming through on the right channels. The faces mean the same things, they're just unfamiliar to my uninitiated gut. So I keep my head down and suck my noodles alone.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Barking syllables, repeated, give me the <i>he means me</i> jolt, repeated again because you never look up until you're sure, and when I do the other face is clearly pissed off, same family after all. His body language is a giant sneer, and he repeats himself, this time with a two-finger poke into my shoulder that twists my skeleton. My hand wants a gun like a prayer wants God, but they don't let you fly like that around here and my contacts were all head-shakes on the weapons part. I decide to play dumb until I have to hit him.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
I turn in my seat to free a boot from the bar rail and line it up, all sneaky-like, with his inseam. That's when I see the tats and know this isn't random. He barks again and I think about a chain of events that doesn't start with me getting shot, but does have me rabbiting through an Orwellian panopticon, built to prevent pretty much everything I might think of to escape. There's a ludicrous car chase that ends with a hostage I don't want and a cartoon sniper taking the shot—</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Through the super slo-mo of <i>brains-blood-teeth-single-flapping-eye</i> I see her step forward in the unusual direction and engage him with hot gibberish. His face does this thing like he's been asked to fuck a three-headed dolphin and he turns with comic leisure, the leading edge of him a barely contained backhand slap. They trade sounds and faces and postures that ratchet ever upward and finally he hits her, spinning her hair into a dark shining spiral. She puts a hand to her face and withdraws. He turns to ignore her and perhaps give me some, then folds his arms with the arrogance that comes from living with a tribe of thugs at your back, feet wide in genital-wagging bravado. And then she's back with a stick produced from nowhere, the first crack across his skull almost quiet, then magnified on the second shot by his open mouth when she breaks it over his head, grabs him by the hair and pumps the jaggy end into his gargling neck three, four times. He hits the floor and curls sideways like a gill-sprung fish where she takes an athlete's windup and kicks him in the brain hard enough to make the rest of his passing painless. The whole thing is almost refreshingly familiar, human, humane. Comparatively speaking.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
She eyeballs everyone in the joint and they give her a radius like a force field. "You," she says to me, "he will see you."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Part II — In through the out door.</span></b></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
We didn't fuck in the car, though it smelled like we might, with all the unbuttoned humanity freighting the air. That came later at the coffin hotel where she went at it with the workmanlike enthusiasm of a bucket-list tick, all business and taking care of herself, my own orgasm slapped out of me at the last moment like a half-forgotten ellipsis <i>dot dot dot</i>.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"You need a better hotel. Another driver will take you to one." She slid into her pants and to the hatch, popped it and sat on the edge, a wilding shape. "Clean yourself and wait for the call."</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Her walk away, pulling her scent with her, was that ancient, ultimate ad: <i>This way to the eggs</i>. Loud enough to tell from the other side of a roaring river whether or not it was worth the swim.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<i><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Later.</span></i></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Cigarette smoke and a ringing in my miserable head that comes from having a firearm discharged too close, these are the things they leave me with. Instead of a finger I have the object of interest, grasped in a half-hand and bloody towel. It's a cylinder of quartz with the top taken off at a funny angle, fine silvery-white tracings inside that hint at puzzle pieces, constructed, not flaws. If they knew what I know, they wouldn't have left it with me, traded it for the puffs of nothing that are promises, information, gold.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
When I move my mind a certain way and regard the object <i>just so</i> I am lopped and hollowed, sectioned, an exploded view of myself, and the shame at so few moving parts is one of those parts, making it an embarrassingly large percentage of what I am.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Time passes and I fall through places chasing understanding, ejected from the penthouse within 24 hours, then a week at the coffins, a month in an aptly named hostel, the better part of a year in the streets where no one really lives. When understanding finally dawns in fullness, it's because I've become extenuated enough for the caverns of darkness to shine through, those dense overhead miles encompassed by my smeared gaze. I'm the only thing that reflects anything in here and I can see that I'm done.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
When it comes it's like a migraine tear, space-time jabbed and pressed <i>into</i> and nothing I can say can describe it—it struggles with an earnestness we would call "rage" but that doesn't even come close. We are thin in a way it is dense and the pull of its gravitational emotion smudges the edge of what I am, permanently.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Part III — It'll come to me.</span></b></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
One outrageous act, it's all I can afford, all I'll have—I almost said "time for", but of course that's meaningless where I'm going, where I am. Too many open doors showing the trajectory of my life, points connected in a neat spiral with a sudden, paper-tearing pulse off the table. It will find me, it's only a matter of—"time" is wrong, again.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
And so I open doors along the curve of the harbor, looking for that summertime past, through the uprights of the dragon-tailed <i>torii</i>, traditional thresholds delimiting the sacred from the profane—which side is which cannot be determined here. I push against a current of time, following the regression of modernity, everything bulking, simplifying, steel and concrete curling into wood and paper, clothing losing the conqueror's twang for something more authentic. </span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
I follow a rising wind that hums with the attenuated shades of once-people, it grows to choking with their ashes as I cross into a stain upon the world, a graveyard convulsed and inverted, its underside crawling with smoking ghouls. The air growls and grows ever hotter until it ignites into screaming tongues of flame that recede toward a mad point in the sky where they compress themselves into a sudden apocalypse of light.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
It is the summer of 1945, and children play in the park.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Everything stops when they see me, their headmistress calling to gather them back across the sward. The children's faces are unafraid, observant at the sight of me out of nowhere, my flesh a door to forever, a beacon that calls to the thing beyond for whom time itself is meat and drink.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
There's a little girl ahead of the group, an outlier with a red bow at her neck, and we both run for her. I scoop her into my arms and she is light and calm until her headmistress screams and the girl turns her little head and begins to cry, infected with terror.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"I'm sorry," I say, and let the torrent of time drag us back.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 18px;">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />
</span><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
My stuttered self sets her on new grass with new children and she has only just left my hands when I am consumed</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-66374623191720872182013-07-17T10:51:00.001-07:002020-10-28T17:10:52.963-07:00Adventures in a Macramé Vest<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />
</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEOAiliGQttRQS-9hg6uE9HT_R8ug_Xr7pRrUqTg7Y3BJedDlnWuNn1iUn58yq99W2pcbe8NxxYJM6kEpiM1ctsPPiARmeqPknNJ8iAzAZbgWx-eoDZLIFz7UeuTRwcUyE8ca-PUvgig/s1600/+vest+final.png" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEOAiliGQttRQS-9hg6uE9HT_R8ug_Xr7pRrUqTg7Y3BJedDlnWuNn1iUn58yq99W2pcbe8NxxYJM6kEpiM1ctsPPiARmeqPknNJ8iAzAZbgWx-eoDZLIFz7UeuTRwcUyE8ca-PUvgig/s1600/+vest+final.png" /></span></a><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">When the Pharaoh pulled the first lever we knew we were pretty much boned; all we had were small arms and mummies just laugh at that shit. The ancient, man-sized gears of the world-ending clockwork began to turn, a slow rumble more felt than heard, shaking fine veils of sand from the massive stones overhead. <br />
<br />
Carmelita gave a warrior's cry and went at him with her tomahawk—the Pharaoh gestured, two fingers and a cocked wrist, summoning a consuming wall of snakes and flame that chewed her from the very fabric of this existence.<br />
<br />
Tomás screamed as he emptied three mags into him, each reload a practiced blur, but it was literally just punching paper. The Pharaoh was nothing more than a monstrous piñata, the thinnest of materials containing the mortally corrupted immaterial.<br />
<br />
He laid a brown claw upon the final lever and I found myself shouting, unencumbered by thought—fear and the ultimate melancholy at the end of all things pulling the words from me:<br />
<br />
"What evil is so powerful that a man can forget the warmth of companionship?"<br />
<br />
He seemed to consider this—though his face was locked in a spiced-resin rictus, teeth curled at arid angles—his body language spoke of remembrance, of eons-effaced nights of fragrant curves in a darkness that held no terror. Breath, of all things, rushing at an octave higher than his own; perhaps a soft curtain of hair, cassia and cinnamon on the lips, a damnable clasp giggling and darting from his seeking fingers, a puzzle finally solved in a wave of flesh to the face and the hieroglyph for motorboating.<br />
<br />
The Pharaoh paused. "What is that," he croaked, "to Eternity?" But the crack in his voice echoed the flaw in his withered soul, and the end of the lever had already been set into it.<br />
<br />
I stood at the lip of the pit containing the hungry machine and bid him come. He hesitated, then took a shuffling step nearer. Then another. Side-by-side we regarded the handiwork of angry gods, vulnerable men, and things without names.<br />
<br />
"What is this," I asked, daring to lay a trembling hand upon his weightless chest, "to that?"<br />
<br />
He regarded the thundering orrery with paper-thin slits over glinting black and made as if to sigh—and he would have had I not made a fist to grip him by his crackling sternum first. I pivoted and hurled him, lighter than imagination, toward the inconstant maw of machinery. He made no sound beyond the rustle of leaves in the fall, summoned no demons in his surprise, though he did clutch at the my sleeves to reverse the drop and destroy me instead.<br />
<br />
Luckily for all of us, I was wearing my macramé vest.</span><div><br /></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-9842622700161391912013-05-06T09:20:00.003-07:002020-10-28T17:08:32.163-07:00<div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium; line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 14px;">The bathtub sloshes in the humid dark. It sloshes because it is filled with... liquid, a liquid that </span><i style="line-height: 14px;">submerges</i><span style="line-height: 14px;"> and </span><i style="line-height: 14px;">contains</i><span style="line-height: 14px;">. A man cowers in the corner, a tiny, crumpled man, a man who fears for the end of bathtub liquid containment. He has in his possession a certain clock that can count those hours—has been counting those kernels of seconds mounded in cupped hands of minutes—since it was first constructed and wound by trembling, doom-palsied fingers. The man's fear is compounded by the essential paradox of clocks: that such devices are incapable of measuring the infinite (so it would seem, though it has never been true for anyone) ray of time, instead clipping, with their gear-work, a 12-hour segment joined at the ends like the Ouroboros wyrm. The horrid clock mocks the illusion of Eternity with the same 60 seconds, the same 60 minutes, the same 12 hours repeated for as long as the spring holds the nervous tension of those original hands. The man's </span><i style="line-height: 14px;">true fear</i><span style="line-height: 14px;"> is not that things will end but that he must endure the anxiety of his circumstance in an unchanging, undying cycle as the bathtub sloshes in the humid dark. </span><br style="line-height: 14px;" /><br style="line-height: 14px;" /><b style="line-height: 14px;">Question 1:</b><span style="line-height: 14px;"> When the alarm sounds, is it a heart attack, poop, or both?</span><br style="line-height: 14px;" /><br style="line-height: 14px;" /><b style="line-height: 14px;">Question 2:</b><span style="line-height: 14px;"> This is not a question: Let's involve a monkey with a radio collar (or bomb) somehow.</span></span><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="line-height: 14px;"><br /></span></span></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-223248782443700892013-04-29T13:36:00.001-07:002020-10-28T17:11:38.028-07:00Dean the Wisp
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="line-height: 150%;">Dean
the Wisp was thin and slight and had no idea how he got that way; he moved like
a bedsheet in moonlight, flowing in a wind he couldn't feel.</span><span style="line-height: 150%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 150%;">Somehow he was only aware on certain
nights of the year, making the years seem as weeks and the human world all
around him a jittery fireworks show of lives briefly bright, bursting into
existence and just as quickly withering back.</span><span style="line-height: 150%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 150%;">He was the legend that got broccoli et; 13-year-old girls
stared into candlelit mirrors and chanted his name; creepy old men invoked him
in rings of glowing campfire faces; but he was different from the rest.</span><span style="line-height: 150%;"> </span><span style="line-height: 150%;">Unlike loch-stranded plesiosaurs or
big-footed country cousins of Man or almond-faced anal-probers Dean the Wisp
was the </span><i style="line-height: 150%;">real deal</i><span style="line-height: 150%;">—a ghost story with
a real motherfucking ghost.</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Sometimes
he was rooted in a vast blackness populated by dimly pulsing motes of drifting
ash that twinkled like Christmas lights glimpsed through a blood-filmed eye—or
maybe just stars. With the proper
effort he could separate one out from the rest and, compressing himself down
through strange orders of magnitude, envelop that single bit, with a sensation
not unlike pulling your head through a wet, heavy sweater, popping into sudden
light and noise on the other side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
It was
there that he saw <i>her</i> for the first
time, making that face with a chain coffee, a cigarette and a purply-striped
scarf, of all things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
J did
not want you to call her Janet—<i>ever</i>—she
hated the sound of her name coming out of the mouths of children, warped in
just three third-grade tries to "Janetor", just another word for a
pedophile with a mop. So just J
was fine, either the letter or J-A-Y but never J-A-E because that's not
pronounced "jay" anyway.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
J, as
it turned out, had a magic ring—though she didn't know it. She bought it at an estate sale with
the crisp 50 her grandmother had just sent her inside a yellow birthday card
with a kitten holding a cupcake on the front (such needless detail for something
so trivial but that's the stupid shit that sticks after the fact when you've
fucked ghosts and seen bodies explode into loops of meat—the mundane is the
floatie you cling to in insane seas) because cash is lame and the ring looked
old.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
It
was. The ring was constructed at
great expense and mortal peril in 221 by Li Feng, a learned master who drank
mercury and never ejaculated—to conserve his vital essence—until his death in
398 by demon possession where he vomited a surfeit of the stuff from his mouth
and eyes. The event was said to
have impregnated every maiden within earshot of the thunder crack of torn
worlds, giving rise to a generation of difficult, wild-eyed children and mystic
hobos.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
So the
bearer of this ring was ethnic or indistinct or whatever you want in non-ironic
high-tops, bangs and pigtails, the result of generations of questionable
decisions. She stuck her gum under
furniture, furtively, and worked a <i>job</i>
job far beneath her Perfect World potential. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
She
also had a ghost boyfriend. The
first time she had been slightly charmed, the second, suspicious, but
lonely. She googled it after that
but it wasn't a thing so it couldn't have been fake. Besides, the third time he might have looked different but
he sure did fuck the same. The
fourth time she called him on it point blank: "You're the same dude, aren't you."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"What? Hey, that's crazy," he said,
shifting off of the cooling wet spot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
She
made the face. "How do you
even know what I'm talking about?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"I—I
really don't."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"It's
cool. Girls are into supernatural
relationships these days—we're programmed for it. I mean, Prince Charming is about as unreal as you can get;
sparkly blood-drinking corpses are somehow sexy, and boy wizards are
fuckable."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
He
snorted. "Well, fuckable by <i>old</i> wizards."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"I
know, right? But it's okay. I know it's been<i> you</i> the last couple times." She snuggled into the crook of his arm, molded along the
length of his body. "Not only
do you fuck the same, you keep using the same pick-up line."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"What? No. I'm smoother than that."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"'Hey,
baby—ever fucked a ghost?'"
She shrugged. "But
hey, it works, so at least one of us is awful."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"The
same line every time?" His eyes defocused, searching. "Dammit."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Her
breath was hot on his neck.
"When can I see you again?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Don't
be in such a hurry—we have until dawn.
After that, I dunno. You'll
know when I find you."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Cool." She hummed contentedly. Then, "Hey—next time I could go
for some warm, brown eyes. And
actual abs; pecs like dinner plates.
And a good dick."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
He
arched an eyebrow. "Uh—I'll
see what I can do?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 27.0pt .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in; text-align: center; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
• • •<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
It took
years for the Chinese ghost-hunters to find them. Years filled with an on-again/off-again pairing that suited
them both and saw Dean settle into an institutionalized fitness buff and
apparent escape artist like an ass into familiar jeans. Snug and flattering, even in the places
worn thin from overuse.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The
black Humvee came across the night lawn at an odd angle, no lights as it
slammed into the porch and killed the engine. Doors popped and low voices muttered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
J woke
with a start and Dean was already up, naked in striped street lights. "Do you have a baseball bat,"
he asked, voice flat with resolve.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
J
coughed. "No, I have a <i>gun</i>."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Dean
shook his head. "No
good. They invented gunpowder—they
know all the bulletproof charms.
Do you have a toolbox."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"I
have a katana," she offered, pointing to a display above the bed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Dean
was already banging around in the closet.
Downstairs the front door unbolted itself and creaked open. "Claw hammer's better."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"If
you say so."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"You'll
see so. Chinese vampires can't be
cut." He stood up, the claw
hammer in his fist. "They
have to be <i>smashed</i>." Dean hefted it claw-forward, then
flipped it back hammerhead-first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
J
blinked. "Wait—this is gonna
be bad, isn't it."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Heavy
footfalls in the hall.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Get
under the bed."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
A mouth
of lightning ate the door, soundlessly, followed by the seeking tendrils of a
Sumerian revenant hex. Dean was
impressed. These guys did their
homework—<i>poorly</i>. The tendrils ignored him and the first
man through the door ate three rapid hammer-blows, his look of infinite
surprise decrementing into a gory underbite. A second man pushed the first aside and tackled Dean, they
hit the floor and came to grips, Dean rolling him over and jerking the hammer
free to bring it down into his indistinct head when a Word of Power stunned him
cold and still.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
He woke
to ritual dismemberment, like wearing a suit of disconnected clothes, sleeves
drooping down arms, pants falling to ridiculous pieces with every move. J was duct-taped to a folding chair,
one eye swollen shut, blood all over her sleepy shirt.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
There
were six of them left. One taller,
older—much older—than the rest, with one crazy eye and one puckered hole in the
front of his skull. They wore
black turtlenecks and ill-fitting Carharts and had snub-nosed revolvers to keep
the action simple in order to thwart gremlins. One of them had a mummified baby in a sack.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Dean
dropped the ruined body and went for the others, but they were all spheres of
stone. The only one open and soft
was J, her bones thin pencil lines undulating in a haze of æther-blown tissue paper.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The
older, taller, one-eyed one spoke. "You know what we're here for—we will
not spare you or your demon-lover."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
J
snorted blood out her nose.
"Then why are you even talking? None of this matters.
Kill us, ransack the house and fuck off." J had never been taped to a folding chair before, or beaten,
for that matter, but she was finding it liberating—if she was gonna die, she
could say whatever the fuck she pleased.
Besides, it was buying Dean time.
Right?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The
ghost-hunters squinted at her through gemstones and broken pieces of colored
glass, muttering amongst themselves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The
one-eyed Magus paused.
"That's a—peculiar thing—for a girl to say," he murmured. Then, "Shoot her."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Without
hesitation one of the men executed a flawless cross-draw and straight-armed the
gun at J's head, squeezing the trigger fluidly with the extension—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Dean
seized one of the ghost hunters with everything he was and hurled him at the
gun as it flashed—<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The
bullet flattened against the ghost hunter's face as he was flung and fell,
bulletproof after all.
"Hey," he said petulantly, finding his feet and scratching at
the slug.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The
Magus threw mystic signs, cursing in forbidden tongues. The others cast about wildly with their
gems.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Dean,"
J breathed, "Who else is there with you?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The
Magus produced a tiny book of splintered pages and began flipping through it
with long, vice-yellowed nails.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"I
know you said it, that Hell is a solitary thing, but I don't believe you."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Someone
had the mummified baby out, waving it around.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Dean,
who else is <i>there</i>?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
His
thoughts intersected hers, not for the first time, not as completely, but just
as familiar, like sunlight or a favorite pair of boots. <i>There's...
something here calling itself "Nine-Rings-and-Thirty-Ribbons".</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"'Nine-Rings-and-Thirty-Ribbons',"
she repeated.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The
ghost hunters, as a unit, took an involuntary step back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"That's
the one!" J yelled, "Let him through!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>I can't</i>, Dean
wavered, <i>You're the only one, it has to
be you.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
J
grinned bloody teeth at the Magus.
"Like I said—<i>let him through</i>!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The
Magus covered his good eye and there was a sudden rush, an impossible widening
of everything as Nine-Rings-and-Thirty-Ribbons <i>happened</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
It was
less an entity than an event—Nine-Rings tore the chi from a man and whipped
another to death with it; with a word it detonated bones as the Magus ate a
pound of salt, they wore halos of their own exposed brains lapped by kittens,
saw their fathers consumed by dogs at the point of ejaculation, their mothers wailing
and barren, the mummified baby cackling and dancing on their tessellated graves
the whole time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
It was
the kind of stuff you can't go back to holding hands from.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 27.0pt .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in; text-align: center; text-autospace: none;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
• • •<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
In Florida,
you can fuck forever. It has an
infinite supply of the nearly dead, long lives lived until threadbare, then
seized in the last gasp, miraculous, and ridden those final few miles until the
grave demands its due. Repeat with
high-tops, bangs and pigtails, Viagra and golf carts, and fuck the kids who
never call.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
She
snapped her gum and made the face, stuck it under the dash while looking him
square in the eye. "I'm
drunk," she said matter-of-factly, "Let's go back to the condo and,
you know."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
He
complied and the cart jerked and whined in the shadows of wind-fluffed
palms. Presently, he spoke. "I just can't get it out of my
head."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
She
scooted a high-topped foot and wrinkly gray leg onto the hood. "What."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Nine-Rings."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
"Baby,
baby, baby," she sighed, "That was a one-time thing. You and me, we're <i>forever</i>."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
He knew
it was true.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; tab-stops: 27.0pt .5in 1.0in 1.5in 2.0in 2.5in 3.0in 3.5in 4.0in 4.5in 5.0in 5.5in 6.0in; text-align: center; text-autospace: none;"><br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-68272358394674514622012-12-21T08:40:00.001-08:002020-10-28T17:13:10.781-07:00Found Wanting<div><i><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></i></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Fire next time.</i> The Good Book said so, and of course, that’s exactly what happened. The whole world blindsided, too busy with fists pressed to flesh, Western powers and third-worlders alike, blindsided by an asteroid bigger than New Hampshire. It announced the end with a fountain of fire taller than the sky, and as if bumped by the impact, nearly everyone with a nuke lit theirs off. Almost like God said so.<br />
<br />
</span><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
For Tomas, it ended in 30 breathless seconds seven miles over Barcelona. One slow moment he was licking Bloody Mary off his middle finger, watching the stewardess’ skirt tighten as she leaned—then the row of seats in front of him exploded away into hard sky, sucking the wind from his lungs as it went.<br />
<br />
He tried to scream, but only succeeded in soiling his britches. A little yellow bag popped from the ceiling and began to beat him mercilessly about the face and neck. The bright blue sky and dark limb of Earth flickered rhythmically, like a time machine set to fast-forward.<br />
<br />
They fell from the sky, a metal snowstorm, no two pieces alike.<br />
<br />
Tomas gulped at the thin air, desperate to save up enough for a good, solid scream. <i>Dear God, just one</i>, he thought. <i>Just let me scream once Padre, don’t let it go like this, without a sound—</i></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />
He couldn’t see, it hurt to blink; he reached up with liquid hands and wiped the ice crystals from his eyes—and saw it through the flashing of sky and ground. The grand splayed flake of a wing fluttering to and fro, falling with them; it cut sharply right, banked, then beelined right for him. He was suffused with understanding, peace, love. Warmth. <i>Padre, I answer thy summons.</i><br />
<br />
The wing stuffed itself into the passenger section, slippery. <br />
<br />
It brought with it a tunnel of light. Tomas unbuckled himself and swirled upward toward the infinity of—<br />
<br />
<i>Naked people.</i><br />
<br />
Naked people pressed nuts to butts, chafing. Naked strangers; naked among strangers. Everyone was there. The people held themselves in shame, men with hands cupped over flaccid members; the women with their forearms pressed against their bosoms, lone hands shielding variously furred deltas of Venus. Those few stunned and bold who walked naked did so not from innocence.<br />
<br />
Tomas was jostled from behind, from the sides, by flesh; he forcefully rubbed up against the woman in front of him and stiffened involuntarily. She turned her head and gave him a look like a slap. Tomas blushed. “Ma’am,” he managed. Though tall, he was somewhat ugly and awkward with women; but because the Lord is merciful, he had a large and well-formed penis. He wrestled it with both hands. “Sorry,” he said to the woman.<br />
<br />
His view of the throng of humanity was better than those of average height around him. A lumpy sea of hair spread out in all directions, fleshy arcs of faces peeping up like choppy little waves. The predominant color was a dark, tousled brown. Rising out of that tide of humanity, above it like a breaching whale, was a massive Throne. It stood empty, the seat and back glowing a deep, fading red like cooling steel. The sky beyond looked like snow.<br />
<br />
Everyone was there. Tomas, and the whole of humanity seething, stinking, crying, huddled, some singing, occasional fistfights. Not as many people holding each other as you might expect, or hope for. They were moving slowly forward, shuffling, toward the Throne, around it. Tomas’ heart burst with sudden understanding; hope.<br />
<br />
“Excuse me,” he asked the man next to him, “Is this the line for—”<br />
<br />
The man punched him, bloodying his nose. <br />
<br />
“No!” the man yelled, flecks of spittle flying, “This ain’t the fuckin’ line to get into fuckin’ Heaven!”<br />
<br />
Tomas’ face was numb. Blood ran into his mouth. He stared.<br />
<br />
“What he means to say,” said an old woman at his left shoulder, “Is that we’ve been judged.”<br />
<br />
Tomas squeezed his nose. “Not me.”<br />
<br />
The old woman frowned. “Yes, you.”<br />
<br />
Tomas shook his head. “No. I just got here.”<br />
<br />
At that moment they rounded the foot of the Throne, the near leg like a skyscraper, and saw the doorway with the hastily hand-lettered sign: SATAN’S RENDERING PLANT #417.<br />
<br />
“Fuckin’ newbie!” yelled the man.<br />
<br />
The sign stirred up a beehive in Tomas’ head. “But I didn’t, I mean, I haven’t—oh, God!” he shrilled.<br />
<br />
The old woman was apoplectic. “Shut him up or he’ll attract one of <i>them</i>!”<br />
<br />
The man grabbed Tomas in a vicious headlock, something he was obviously very good at, and enjoyed. He clamped a meaty hand over Tomas’ bloody mouth and nose. Tomas struggled, but the man dragged him forward, toward the sign, the door, with the rest of them. Tomas began to give in, by degrees, overwhelmed and drowning in a sea of surprises. It’s all just like you’ve been taught, but nothing like you had hoped... Then he saw his father, at the door, his father, the doorman, holding open the door. Tomas started, and renewed his efforts to break loose. The man bore down on him, squeezing like he knew it was the last neck he’d get to squeeze, ever. Tomas bit his hand, to the bone, and hung on. The man screamed and flung him away, threw him forward through the crowd toward his father, the doorman.<br />
<br />
“Father,” Tomas cried, “father!”<br />
<br />
“Ah, me! Tomas!” They embraced.<br />
<br />
His father pushed him away, at arm’s length, and sighed. “Let me have one last look at you.” His eyes glistened.<br />
<br />
Tomas took him in. He was naked but for a fresh smelling T-shirt with the words MY PEOPLE WENT TO JUDGMENT DAY AND ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY T-SHIRT printed on it. Pinned to the shirt was a little gold badge of wings, like a pilot’s medal.<br />
<br />
Tomas’ face twisted. “What?”<br />
<br />
His father touched the badge, smiled. “I am a Helper. This is so the others will know me. And the shirt—” he hesitated, “—the shirt is from the... Lord of Darkness, just someplace to put the pin. Considerate, I suppose...” He grimaced, then brightened. “We have to get you a job! You and me, we can be together for a little bit before, well, you know.”<br />
<br />
The doors swung open and closed, open and closed as the people pressed through them, into—<br />
<br />
Tomas felt his body receding from him, falling away, a dead leaf from a tree before the coming winter. “A job?” he said distantly.<br />
<br />
“But not that one,” his father said, pointing behind him, under the Throne. “You don’t want that job. They’re getting put into new bodies, reincarnated, to go down and mop up the stragglers.” He shuddered visibly. “You don't want that job.”<br />
<br />
The new bodies were huge, bipedal and insectoid, eyes everywhere, with scything rows of claws. As Tomas watched, several helpers dragged a "volunteer" over to the twitching body and got to work; it was like stuffing a corpse into a sleeping bag. Bright portals winked from nothingness and spun open. Screaming, the men with skins of beasts leapt through the portals back to Earth.<br />
<br />
To Tomas, it was suddenly very funny. He wanted to laugh loud and long, slap his thighs and bare his teeth, barking. Instead, his breath hissed from him.<br />
<br />
“Father,” he said, barely audible, “Why?”<br />
<br />
“Why?”<br />
<br />
“Why Hell?”<br />
<br />
“Oh, my son. This is not the way to Hell. There <i>is</i> no Hell. And they aren’t going to bother building Heaven, either. God is reclaiming all, to start over. Fresh.”<br />
<br />
Tomas snapped into his body. “But the beauty! The humanity!”<br />
<br />
“I know. We had the greatest potential—that’s probably why we were given the opportunity. But we failed to live up to that potential."<br />
<br />
“Father! I haven’t had my say—”<br />
<br />
“We all have.”<br />
<br />
“But not me! I haven't been judged yet!”<br />
<br />
“Son,” he intoned, then pressed his lips together, “We’ve all been judged, and been found wanting.”<br />
<br />
“But—” His father slapped him, stunned him cold. His face began to flush hot and he held it with his hand.<br />
<br />
“We have been judged. The Lord God judged us as a whole.”<br />
<br />
“A whole.” Tomas’ voice was flat, a dead flower pressed in a family bible, its fragrance spent.<br />
<br />
His father’s face softened. “We didn’t make it,” he said quietly.<br />
<br />
The crowd jostled Tomas and he was caught up in the wave of flesh, carried forward through the doors and into a short, dank hallway, his hand still pressed to his stinging face...<br />
<br />
<i> Judged as a whole.</i><br />
<br />
The hall smelled warm and somehow comforting; it was not the warmth of brimstone ahead, but the warmth of blood-friction; the heat of beating hearts.<br />
<br />
<i> Found wanting.</i><br />
<br />
He got occasional glimpses through the swinging doors as they shushed ceaselessly open and closed, open and closed like a chewing mouth. And inside, strobing shots of more helpers, in rubber aprons, their feet stained as if from stamping grapes.<br />
<br />
<i> There is no Hell; they’re not even going to bother building Heaven...</i><br />
<br />
Hell is just this little hallway, the hallway before entering SATAN’S RENDERING PLANT #417. Because Hell is just knowing. Even if only for a little bit.<br />
<br />
He squeezed his eyes shut, squeezed the tears from them, and stumbled through the doors blindly—just like everyone else.</span></div><div><br /></div>
Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-83963907088014890922012-11-14T12:59:00.012-08:002020-10-28T17:16:06.674-07:00Old Like the Sun<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />
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You can’t have a Bible nestled between a tampon and a diaper. That’s why we exist. The Company, I mean. THE BEAST. Wait a minute. Let’s back it up. Sometimes I spill the milk before there’s a cow and not everybody gets that. </span></div>
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Mr. Florentine has to make sure I get my meds at the start of every shift—it’s the only way I can keep my job. And unlike the others I actually like this one. I want to work here. I <i>have</i> to work here because this is the only place where I work. The meds do nothing but make me sleepy, but I suppose in truth they do more than that. They prove to me that what I experience is not mental illness but a new way of being, a lightning-licked path directly to God. I see things with a clarity most will never know. </span></div>
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The meds are slow motion, the constant detonation that is reality slurring until I can see the dance of Creation, a step-by-step minuet of equilibria. Like watching Kennedy a frame at a time, his head bulging because there’s a bullet in there, slowing down. </span></div>
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Kieran’s driving the forklift tonight, loading shiny-wrapped pallets of flags, bibles, money into the maw of THE BEAST. Back and forth he zips to irritating guitar rock, cranking the wheel, nearly toppling like there’s a hurry to fill the belly with massive brown cubes. But there’s no hurry—we have all night. All night to be inside it, the only place where I experience awe.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>This</i> is where it happens.</span></div>
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Beneath these ceramic cathedral beams, this is where the things we cannot countenance with the idea of destruction—not personally, anyway—are brought to corruption as everything must. We just do it <i>suddenly</i>. THE BEAST—a Rapid Sublimation Plasma Furnace—drinks juice from the dam on the other side of the mountains, dimming all the lights in its path, in reverence, as holy relics die. Flashed to nothingness in this world, pressed beyond the veil, their energies released into unknown dimensions. It’s mostly magic. We would load it up, fire it, and when reopened, days later and still red hot, it was empty. Clean. Wonderously purified. Flags done waving, bibles misprinted or discarded, too much money all converted in a singular convulsion onto writhing plasma, white hot, the idea of power unleashed as a physical thing.</span></div>
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And what did these oblations bring? Angels? Demons? The Mouth of Satan to unspeak God’s Word? What dread portals spun open in here where no material thing could exist? I know the Company is variously owned by the Pope, the Illuminati and the billionaire Antichrist of the week; surely <i>they</i> know the truth. </span></div>
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“Clear out, you fucking retard,” Mr. Florentine yells without echo just beyond the threshold. He is tiny in comparison to the vault door behind him, the megaton Hand of God poised to swat.</span></div>
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Kieran nearly runs him over, tipping up on two wheels just like in the safety video. “He’s not a retard, Boss,” he calls over his shoulder as he deftly sets another block into a house-sized wall of pallets. “He’s just what my Grammy would call ‘pie-headed’.” The forklift pirouettes with a whine and darts back out.</span></div>
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“Fuck your Grammy.” Mr. Florentine holds me with an uncompromising gaze. “He’s a state-certified retard. He takes retard pills and works a retard job.” There is more but there are three of him now, one pleading on his knees, apologetic, one with his mouth shut, one saying the hard, cruel things. I can’t pay attention when this happens. Like bees in my head.</span></div>
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Then there’s four of him but it’s just the New Girl even though she isn’t new anymore or even really a girl, I mean not a <i>girl</i>-girl but more like somebody’s mom. She hands Mr. Florentine The Clipboard and when she turns to walk away it’s like the fruit Adam bit into, juicy and dripping down his chin, sticky-sweet, and the world never the same since.</span></div>
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I got a woman, not one of the blow-up ones, but the foam kind. With the moveable eyes. It was nice until one of them got stuck and now I can’t bear to look at her when, well, you know. That’s why I have to put the pillow over her face when she does me. I wanted to call her Eve, but on the outside it scared me what God might think. It’s probably blasphemy that something so wonderfully mysterious as a woman should be rendered like this. So, outside, I call her Katherine. But inside, when she’s doing me, I can’t help but think of her as Eve. <i>My</i> Eve. Blasphemy, I know, but I can’t help myself. And even though it’s wrong, it puts me where I am. </span></div>
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Mr. Florentine waves me out with The Clipboard—tonight we’re expecting some of the <i>Special Bundles</i>, carpet rolls all wet and heavy, the ones that make the muffled thumps and bangs when THE BEAST lights up. It has to be their souls, the sound they make hammering the innards to get out, terrified as their bodies burn in words, bound in words, burning. Words the smoke from burning skulls. </span></div>
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Kieran clips the inside edge of the door with a hasty maneuver and tears open one of the big brown cubes, spilling Bibles everywhere. One of the Special Bundles bobsleds down the pile and into THE BEAST, as eager as I am.</span></div>
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Mr. Florentine turns red and shows his teeth. “Get the retard his shovel.”</span></div>
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I feel an ecstatic chill at the words and start to take off my pants. I’m allowed. It’s in the contract. I don’t have to wear my clothes when I shovel. It’s a big wide one, like I suppose they’d use for snow, but I get to do Bibles. Old Bibles, mold Bibles, Bibles that are done speaking the Word and gone hoarse with it, all the lowercase stuff still there but stripped of Power like a drained battery or a movie you’ve seen too much. New Bibles, wrapped in plastic and ready to go except some robot in China garbled the Word at like a million vowels per second as the paper whizzed by, a giant roll of toilet paper wiping a factory’s ass. Not the Truth anymore, just some dangerously subhuman version of it. Can’t read it, can’t sell it, can’t burn it—nothing between skin and air but sweat—I put my back into it. </span></div>
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“Dammit, Boss,” says Kieran, dismounting the forklift, “I’ll make it right.” He tries to take The Clipboard from Mr. Florentine but Mr. Florentine smacks his hand with it. </span></div>
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“No. Retard’s gonna do it. He <i>always</i> gets it exactly right. He <i>has</i> to get it exactly right. Isn’t that exactly right, retard?” </span></div>
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“Ten steps,” I sing in time with the ringing shovel, “Not seven not five not three not one it’s one two three four five six seven eight nine ten ten steps.” </span></div>
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Kieran notices my erection before I do.</span></div>
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“Dude,” he says, “You <i>really</i> need to get out more.” </span></div>
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• <span class="Apple-style-span">•</span> •</span></div>
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The Clipboard’s too hot tonight so I write it down on my forearms in Magic Marker: </span></div>
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1. Sound klaxons, 2 short blasts.</span></div>
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2. Call over PA, “Clear out, clear out. Pre-ignition check.”</span></div>
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3. Walk THE BEAST and check the shadows.</span></div>
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4. Sound klaxons, 2 short blasts.</span></div>
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5. Call over PA, “All clear, all clear. Ignition countdown.”</span></div>
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6. Use key with fuzzy monkey keychain to pop panel with Hello Kitty sticker.</span></div>
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7. Raise cover, flip switch, thumb button, watch door close.</span></div>
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8. Wait for 3. Green. Lights.</span></div>
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9. Sound klaxons, 1 long blast.</span></div>
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10. Use breaker bar to short panels on either side of console, where wires stick out.</span></div>
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THE BEAST wakes with a whine that vibrates everything between everything, I can feel my soul shaking loose, and it starts happening in there, Hell blossoming behind yards of weird metal and a thin veneer of understanding. <i>What is it, what is it</i>, I ask pressing my face, my body, my self against the warming shell. I hold on until I can smell it burning me and then I have to go, spent.</span></div>
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This one time I was in a parking lot, a man with a gaping hole in his chest, trying to plug the gushing crimson dyke with white fingers, he staggered into me, grabbed me with bloody hands, whispered fiercely, “God is not the god of man—” When I blinked he was gone, his bloody handprints evaporated. He wasn’t real after all, but the message was. The message was.</span></div>
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On my way to get out more I coast in darkness behind a tractor-trailer rig hauling an identical trailer atop itself. It is confusing and natural. The end of a strap flares in my headlights, rises up in a languid sine wave, then down and into the spinning, hungry wheels beneath where it pulls startlingly taut and blinks out of existence. The trailer shifts, hesitant, and a corner kisses the engorged river of asphalt flowing rapidly past. In that instant I don’t want to jerk the wheel. Nothing is coming apart in front of me, it’s just everything following the rules. Rules that must be obeyed.</span></div>
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Before the second hand can cross the void between hashes I jerk the wheel. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done.</span></div>
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Kieran gives me meth, and a beer like soda pop for ugly children, so we’re all in the same place. Too many of us in a different car, speaking in unknown octaves like the chirping of birds we’re going too slow, too slow past the crowd when the guns come out. Then the <i>pop-pop-pop</i> like you wouldn’t expect, shell casings ringing against the fenders and sidewalk, little bells the crowd can’t hear the crowd like an animal you hit with a stick three, four, five times and ask yourself <i>why won’t it move?</i> And then it does, all at once, flowing away as nature intended. The backs of heads and limbs and dear items discarded.</span></div>
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In the woods I ask Kieran <i>why?</i> It’s just rules and nature to me, but I genuinely want to know what he’s thinking. He chugs the last of his beer and hurls the bottle beyond the headlights.</span></div>
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“Fuck, man. It just sounded like a good idea.” He pauses and the words reverberate in my head like a child screaming underwater. “It was either that or get laid.”</span></div>
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He calls for another beer and is presented with one. I notice that he has a gun in his hand.</span></div>
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“You didn’t pull the trigger, man, but you were in the car.” He sighs and looks at the gun. “You can’t just be a passenger in this life—at some point you gotta <i>do</i> something.”</span></div>
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He presses the gun into my hand, heavy and warm with body heat. The weight of it coagulates the bees in my head. <i>He’s right.</i> So I shoot him in the leg.</span></div>
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It takes longer than any of us expected for him to bleed out, even though I know the bullet went through the femoral artery even before I pulled the trigger. It’s no coincidence that old-people clocks are round—cause and effect have a way of looping back on themselves that’s obvious if you know how to look at it. Everything’s a <i>feeling</i>—the crack of bone, the kick of the gun, the weight of the unfired cartridge, Kieran’s thumb pressing it into the magazine, the boredom of the Mexican lady who tamped the round at the factory. All the pressing, pulling, pushing that brought us to this moment: we all squeezed the trigger, we all severed the artery. There was no other possible outcome.</span></div>
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He passes with only a little effort at the end—his breath involuntary and agonal before ceasing mid-gasp—I strain to see evidence of his fleeing soul. He was wreathed only in nothingness. </span></div>
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I bury him with the others.</span></div>
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There’s an unhealthy weightlessness that comes with undoing your safety belt and leaving the passenger seat; you float down the aisle and open the cockpit door only to find there’s no God or dog or Chewbacca in the copilot’s chair. It’s just you, the yoke, and 900,000 pounds of metal and jet fuel hurtling toward the ground. You can dart away like an astronaut and try to buckle back in—or you can take the stick in both fists. Either way, the world only loaned you to the sky. It wants you back. It’ll have you back. Because while it’s fun to talk about, you don’t actually know how to fly a goddamn airplane.</span></div>
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THE BEAST is beyond the whine, beyond the low growl that raises hackles in a 10-mile radius—it roars, now, its throat wide open to swallow a little bit of our reality and take it only God knows where. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><i>Ten steps. Ten steps to get there.</i> The heat squeezes my bare flesh, threatening to press me in pieces through the sieve of another world; it’s hard to be here. It’s taking all of me to be here. The razor makes a line weeping crimson beads of dew and it’s nine steps, then eight, and the steps peel away, bright and shining, a purity of sensation like sunlight on the naked soul.</span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px;"><br /></div>
Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-39630839511204077012012-08-24T10:49:00.002-07:002020-10-28T17:16:49.212-07:00Ilsa and the Death of Doubt<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Beneath the thumping floorboards, Ilsa hugged the hatbox and shivered, eyes squeezed shut. She tried to make herself as small as possible, pulling her knees up to her chest, collapsing inward, crumpling her consciousness into a tiny, infinitesimal wad. The final, fearful refuge of a prey animal, retracting into the crevices of the mind. <i>I'm not here, I'm not here, I'm not—</i><br />
<br />
Above, the Ukrainians were making a mess of the Professor's lab. Drawers yanked from desks bounced hollow and metallic, papers fluttered like her heart. Something heavy crashed into glass again and again. Strange liquids began to seep and smoke into the crawl space. The sting in her lungs yanked her out of her mind-hole and a wave of panic gushed after.<br />
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"Here!" an accented voice bellowed, "There's a trapdoor under the table! The old man was lying! You two, move it!"<br />
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More crunching glass, grunting and a low scrape vibrated the boards above her head.<br />
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Ilsa looked at the hatbox. "I have no choice," she whispered. <i>But the Professor said—</i><br />
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Another scrape, longer this time. A sliver of light slashed her face.<br />
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"Forgive me," she breathed. Ilsa upended the hatbox and the pearlescent garment spilled out, finer than silk, unrolling like liquid moonlight. She peeled her own dress up over her head in the cramped space, kicking her shoes away. Her bra came off with the one-handed trick, the envy of all man-kind, and she briefly bridged to peel her panties down over her pear-shaped ass and rolled them off her legs and gone. She gripped the second skin, oily and vaguely luminescent, hesitating for what could very well be the last time.<br />
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Above, more boots now, more grunting.<br />
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"I want her alive!" the voice barked. Scattered laughter followed.<br />
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Ilsa's hesitation broke and she thrust her feet into the legs, feeling the thing snug about her toes; she pulled it up, over her hips and cool across her tummy. The impossible task of finding the arms in an everyday bodysuit was absent—the thing wanted to be worn. She didn't so much slip into it as it slipped onto her. All that was left was the hood. <i>What will it be like</i>, she wondered, <i>will I ever come back?</i><br />
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Another scrape and more light.<br />
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She yanked the hood over her head and it swallowed her face, her self, whole. The Insanitard claimed another rider.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Black was white, the moon was made of kittens. And knives, knives came alive in throats.</i><br />
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So close, so close, grown men struggled with a mere table.<br />
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"Hurry it up!" Ilsa growled, flexing against the trapdoor.</span><div><br /></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-33287270044909039422012-02-09T13:41:00.002-08:002020-10-28T17:17:23.561-07:00Puppet Show in an Empty Theater<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">The day after the Singularity, everyone woke up feeling just fine.</span><div><br /></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-78036656935706545892012-02-09T10:28:00.002-08:002020-10-28T17:18:25.514-07:00CODA<span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />
When the gods speak to you in the quiet moments, alone with <i>Gutspiller</i>, your sword, it's in the voice of roaring flame, crying babe and creaking bones. The name they use for you is not familiar—though if it be applied by the gods it must be yours.<br />
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YOU ARE WASTED HERE, they burn, screech and crack. YOU WILL JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF ALL THINGS AND DO WHAT YOU MUST.<br />
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You pause mid-whetstone-stroke. <i>Always</i>, you think, <i>with the obtuse</i>. The last time the gods tasked you to <i>do what you must</i> a kingdom burned, and that had angered them. How were you to know the Virgin Concubine was reserved for Athnas' crippled avatar alone? One sock to the Old King's grey head and the avatar broke open upon the flagstones; then the 43 murders—kingsmen all, and in furious combat, but that's not how you prefer to think of it—and a harrowing scene of a Death-amusing swing from one Impossible Tower to its twin on a rope spun from the Concubine's song as she clung to your back in a parody of the moment five minutes hence when she relinquished her title upon your surging member.<br />
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The Pillars of Creation shook that day. But then they did on most days when you were sober enough to tumesce and hold a sword.<br />
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"Gods," you grumble, "What use have I for gods? Does the foe leap upon my sword, the maid upon my member, the wine and meat upon my palate by whimsy alone?" Still, you rise.<br />
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As is usual, the gods are not content to simply open a hole for you to walk through... it is a myriad of black mouths that dial open in reality, all swirling, sucking, tearing at the scenery and tugging you, screaming with rage, in all directions at once.<br />
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DO THIS THING AND IT'S GNORTHLAX THOUSANDLEGS' STORIED HAREM FOR YOU; FAIL US AND... IT'S GNORTHLAX THOUSANDLEGS' STORIED HAREM FOR YOU.<br />
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And so your boots are set upon The Path.<br />
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There is a swamp with a lowly hut, really no more than a mound of offal and detritus wherein dwells hideous conjoined twins, one impossibly old, the other a pouting toddler; this did you smite.<br />
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There is the four-space labyrinth of the Dread Pfeffnorg, where hallways branch back into themselves and the blindfold does nothing for it is behind your eyes the Pfeffnorg lurks; this did you smite.<br />
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There is a village of Golden People who worship the idol of a squat frog-god and keep a library of life-effacing technology as well as the Chronicle of All Peoples and Times; this did you smite, burn and partner for a time with the Golden King's daughter, whose smirk and sword were as wicked-cool as her heavy breasts.<br />
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There are others, and crowns looted from severed heads, wheelbarrows of swag and burning castles. This is The Path, and though you share it now and again with sidekick and warrior princess it is in the end yours to stride alone and so you do, more often than not... as is your fashion.<br />
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When The Path terminates, it is at the Center of All Things. The World Beast rages, beset on all sides by ranks of heroes; sword and spell flash against hide and will as the thing bellows and swats cohorts of them dead with each lumbering step. An ensorcelled catapult fires a volley of sainted skulls into the thing's 37th eye—it roars soundlessly and shifts to the left—<br />
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There is a Seal at the end of Creation—a Great Key that locks Everything in its Place; the wretched to their swamps, pfeffnorgs to their mazes, golden kings to their thrones—and <i>Gutspiller</i> in your fist.<br />
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And the World Beast has just lifted its hindmost foot off of it.<br />
<br />
While the gods could have been more explicit, they could not have lined up a better shot. There's a break in the legions of heroes, a surging zig-zag course that opens between you and the Seal. It is The Path. Sheathing <i>Gutspiller</i>, you run. Through carnage and din, past exploding wizards and eyeless clerics, de-limbed warriors and bandy-legged thieves—you run. The beast rages and rears, a mountain walking or stumbling all over the world's finest. Its shadow is everywhere.<br />
<br />
The Seal is a stride-wide plug, a keystone set with a massive ring of eldritch metal, impossibly cold to the touch. You set yourself over it, take one last look at the chaos that roils at the Center of All Things, spit on your hands and seize the ring. The cold is stunning and you almost cry out; instead you bear down and pull with everything the gods gave you. Sinew and bone compress as muscles bulge. You can feel the strain in your teeth as they begin to crack. Veins stand out on your glistening tan, making you look for all the world like an angry, man-sized penis—<br />
<br />
<i>Once upon a time, a philosopher-king said that flesh is but the shadow of will. Wary of tricks, you disemboweled him.</i><br />
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In this moment you're almost sorry as the plug comes loose with a final shout and The World drains ou—<br />
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Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-56336023222158910782011-09-12T17:03:00.000-07:002020-10-28T17:20:07.954-07:00A PRICKLE OF PUPPIES<div><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">The day after the cylinders opened, everyone got their very own parasite from outer space. They looked like puppies in order to minimize the rioting, burning and general awfulness that panicked humans perpetrate in the name of being the animal that prays and wars. After all, every dead human was one less "doghouse"!</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Mum and Da did their best to not look terrified as the parasites swarmed over Harry with obvious interest.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Someone, they knew, was going to get a bellyful of space parasite eggs!</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">One of the "puppies" ran off, and Harry felt the tug of geneered pheromones like a choke-chain wrapped about the root of his very soul.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Perhaps Mum was thinking bad thoughts about fire and hatchets again?</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Overfull with writhing larvae, the "puppy" rubbed itself against the ground and gave off an awful cloud of stink. Mum thought deeply of algebra and novel sex positions in an attempt to mask her murderous intent.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">But the thing knew. IT KNEW.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Like a furry spring it leapt upon her chest and vomited a mass of space parasite eggs into her mouth. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">She struggled in vain, for it wasn't so much many tiny eggs as it was an enormous mucus-lubed sac of them. It all went down in one sudden, awful swallow.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Having fulfilled its cosmos-appointed purpose, the thing rolled over and expired.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Later, Harry found a new parasite had been sent to link with him. He soaked a tennis ball in 9-oxybutylcharybdotoxin and chucked it at the "puppy".</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">"FOOL INCUBOY," the "puppy" barked in his mind, "THERE ARE NO NEURONS IN THIS NODE. WE WILL LICK YOUR POISON—"</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">"—AND REGURGITATE THE BONES OF NAUGHTY CHILDREN WE HAVE EATEN JUST THIS VERY MORNING."</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Suddenly, Jasper the quisling scooted up on his fly rollerblades.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">The thing communed with whatever was growing inside of Jasper. "The Wilsons down the street are pretending to be subsumed," said Jasper, "But they put the better parts of themselves down the garbage disposal."</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">"WE KNOW," barked the "puppy" silently, "YOU WILL NOW ENGAGE IN STANDARD PROCEDURE 3905."</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">"Stab, shoot, burn!" chuckled Jasper.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Harry couldn't stand it anymore. "Vomit your eggs into me, you little bastard! Get to it! Or so help me God I will squeeze the life out of you!"</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">And so he did.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">"ASK YOURSELF," the "puppy" barked softly inside Harry's mind, "HOW IS IT WE FIT, OUR TWO SPECIES? WE EVOLVED ON DIFFERENT WORLDS, WINDING ABOUT DIFFERENT STARS, SO MANY LIGHT YEARS APART."</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">"IT IS CLEARLY THE WILL OF YOUR GOD THAT WE SHOULD CLEAVE INTO YOU. YOU ARE A CONFUSED SPECIES, BLIND TO YOUR COSMIC DESTINY—"</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">"—BUT WE KNOW. AND WE ARE HERE TO HELP YOU BE WHAT YOU WERE MEANT TO BE."</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Harry had to admit, it wasn't so bad once you just let go and accepted it.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">With their stubby legs, the things from the stars needed people to push them around in carts...</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">The chilly limits of the squared-cubed law meant they needed people to keep them warm...</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">They needed every one of us...</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">And isn't that what makes life worth living, to be needed?</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Every one of us, needed, perhaps even "loved"...</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Until we're all used up.</span></span><div><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-85194985016217760152011-06-03T17:42:00.001-07:002020-10-28T17:21:09.904-07:00God's Own Editorial Cartoon<div><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">From time to time when the wind shifted at the back door I caught the unmistakable whiff of rotting flesh. It was but the faintest hint, like a long-gone lover's perfume, gently nudging a memory to life but not stroking long enough for arousal. I'd get yanked backwards out of the Internet, look up from my laptop and coffee, scrunchy-faced and think, </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">That smells like... must be something under the greenhouse...</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"> and then the wind would shift again and it would be gone.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Just as quickly I'd be back to work, some slowly submerging part of my mind figuring it would either get dramatically worse or nature would just kind of sort it all out.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Repeat at odd intervals for weeks, and then dolly-zoom on yesterday:</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">We're in the backyard grilling and I catch the scent. That submerged memory rises and bursts in my mind like a viscous swamp bubble. </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">Something under the greenhouse.</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"> I wander over to the far corner where it meets the fence and the neighbor's wild growth of enormous greenery and get socked in the head by the odor. I bend down to look under the greenhouse and the stench abates. I rise and the volume cranks back up to breakfast-wrestling. Puzzled and nauseated, I cast about, homing in on the epicenter of—</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">There are moments where you see things so painfully clear, it's like God's Own editorial cartoon, where an enormously fat man in a diaper wrestling with two hookers on a pile of money somehow encapsulates 30 years of socioeconomic history in a few deft strokes of the pen. A maximized fullness of understanding rendered with the absolute minimum of material and effort.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Momentarily stunned, I say aloud, without turning, "I have to clean up something truly horrible." I do my best to convey </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">you don't want to know</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"> with word-choice and tone. I don't move, shielding the eyes I know will be summoned to my back by my voice.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">My wife hesitates, words and tone doing the trick. "What—is it?"</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">"You don't want to know." Then, "I'll take care of it." I turn and stride into the house trying to figure the best—and quickest—way to handle it. </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">Garbage bag, no, two, double-bagged, like a giant glove, gonna have to be hands-on, lift slowly, don't pull...</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">I am suddenly jerked backwards to </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">The Night of the Great Pooting</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">, where the dog was extremely excited about something in the dark but returned almost instantaneously and with a great stink. It billowed and rose through the house, waking all within and making us fear for the amount of de-stinking labor we'd have to suffer before sleep take us again. Luckily, the dog appeared to have been merely grazed, somehow dodging the shot, at the edge of the cone of stink rather than at the center. At the time I thought it a great boon of luck (and not caution or skill on the part of the dog) but now I knew that it was only because the dog was not the target. The thing had pooted at Death itself in a vain attempt to drive the Grim Reaper off.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">The possum had been traversing a mildly treacherous section of fence, one where a hand-span gap narrowed to nothing in a long V that terminated, unfortunately, more than one possum-body length above the ground. Here, human enterprise, entropy, physics and a primitive brain all conspired to do the poor beast in. With footing lost, he fell head-first into a puzzle he couldn't solve, at least not before Death would have him. So he hung by the neck at the bottom of that V, scrabbling and pooting, pooting and scrabbling, then menaced by dogs as he pooted every last ounce of poot he could muster.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">What was left, weeks later, demanded to be photographed, at least by those at a safe remove; but for me and the requirements of the task at hand taking pictures was the last thing on my mind. I wanted it over with, and now.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">It looked, felt, sounded, smelt and tasted exactly like you'd think, only knobbed up beyond 11.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">I can still </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">see</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"> the cartoon stink lines.</span></span><div><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-73183325656293178212011-04-21T08:05:00.000-07:002020-10-28T17:22:30.197-07:00Boobs & Armageddon: A Meditation<div><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">Life begins with a sound like a flushing toilet.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">I gain consciousness by degrees amid the viscous swirl, my brain lit with cram-download. I become human in moments, a blur-crawl from infancy to full-fledged killer as the gro-gel sluices into the depths. The first sensation is pain as my feet suck to the sharp-edged grid of the vat's drain floor, followed by cold, then weakness and shame as I collapse under my own weight onto all fours, falling onto my side, and finally, gagging, yank the branching umbilicus from my guts, lungs, nose and mouth.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">I haven't even taken my first real breath and I vomit a couple liters of snot.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Luckier than most of humanity, I know who I am and why I'm here. I think of my people, dropping from the trees to take on the larger predators, becoming what all life on Earth fears, stamping our bootprint into the backs of all things—</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">even lights in the night sky</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">—and then pulling the trigger on ourselves and pissing a miracle into less than nothing. "Thanks," I rasp with fire in my throat, "you bunch of no-good sons-of-anuses." I'm not sure the idiom is correct, though the visual feels somehow right.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">MOTHER gives me three hours, though I'm ready in 20 minutes—cleaned up, girded, strapped and armed. I waste the remainder of the time sitting, ramrod straight, among the broken things. Vast machinery of unknown purpose crowds the cavern into closed spaces, all it it echoing with playback of the countless missions I've failed before. Each loop is a snippet of exclamations, breathy oaths, the chatter of automatic fire, screams that grow with proximity and end with a roar, or the metallic patter of mostly deflected bullets, the </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">whump-crunch</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"> of worse, or the flea's-knee </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">klick</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"> of lost telemetry.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">This time, I'm good to go.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">The playback ends. MOTHER dials open the lock. I step inside and take a final lungful of clean air, tap the ammo-count on the .75 and spool up the MASER, all before the iris valve pinches off the last bit of sanity and humanity behind me. I check the cycle time and prime a grenade for a hair just past that, position myself before the outer door, balancing arm extended, grenade fuzing quietly next to my head in the other fist.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">A circle of candy-colored light bursts from the center of the outer iris and I'm already halfway through the throwing arc. The grenade vanishes into the bright and rings the metal hull like a bell. Blowback scorches my breastplate.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">I stride into the mess and leave my bootprint in the ones still breathing.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">•••</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">This is life for long enough that I would be viking-shaggy (</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">if I could but grow hair</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">) and a-dangle with skulls and flapping hides (</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">were I to collect trophies</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">) and with a name that precedes my arrival (</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">if the things out here could speak</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">). Instead, it just goes on until I'm low on ammo.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">••</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">You'll know her when you see her.</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"> A human woman, bound and magnificent, outsized curves straining the boundaries of adolescent fantasy. She is attired as savages might swath the Venus of Willendorf for sacrifice, exposing enough lusciousness to attract the eyes of the Gods while covering those few bits that make Them blush. She stands proud and unbowed atop the stepped pyramid, smeared with handprints, a mane of wild hair obscuring her eyes, shoulders, and most of her back. A sea of admirers laps at her tiny feet. They chant blasphemies.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">I give the suit a moment to read the crowd and calculate a trajectory before lighting the thrusters and jumping in, crushing four of them and burning others as I hit and leap away, CBM dispensers spinning wedges of shrapnel off my back as my boots leave the earth, feather-light. With a hop, skip and a jump I'm up the pyramid and arcing back down toward the small stone square carved with caricatures of talking cars and skeletons in business suits. I land in a wash of smoke and flame, sock the high priest in the nugget with a mailed fist, snatch the girl and rocket away.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Arrows fashioned from the bric-a-brac of a dead civilization shatter across my ass and pincushion hers, though she makes no sound, this brave Concubine of Death. She'll make a fine MOTHER of the New Human Race.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">•</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Back at the hab I toss her onto the waterbed, as is fitting for this moment in History, the way a pulp hero or misogynist might. The suit releases me, a tripartite zippered maw vomiting a pink and hairless doll. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">She lounges on the undulating bed stiffly. </span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">I step to the foot of it and remove my shirt in a double-fisted spray of buttons and begin to fumble at my belt. Some of the foam rubber has come loose from her curved belly and I spy—with rising horror—the metal beneath. As the whole of human history bottlenecks and dolly-zooms on me and the appliance, my horror redoubles and then does so again as I realize </span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">I've never seen my own genitalia.</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"> I can't, for the life of me, remember whether or not I have a penis.</span></span><div><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-22586367393486217742011-03-11T12:17:00.000-08:002020-10-28T17:24:19.235-07:00Once upon a time you realized there was a monster under the rug.<div><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">[</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">pic of rug with not inconsiderable bulge in middle</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">]</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">You got the nail gun out straight away, but understood that if you nailed the bulge you'd only tack the rug to a very angry monster.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">[</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">pic of you with nail gun, considering bulge</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">]</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">So you ingeniously tacked the rug down all around the edges so the monster had nowhere to go.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">[</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">pic of rug all nailed down around the edges</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">]</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">And set to kicking the living crap out of the monster.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">[</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">pic of you putting the boots to the bulge</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">]</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">When suddenly...</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">[</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">pic of quivering bulge, with word balloon</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">]</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">BULGE: (mama)</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">Your heart melted. How could you be so horrible? Surely even the worst monsters are merely misunderstood! You began to pry the nails loose to make amends...</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">[</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">pic of bulge near an open end of the rug, with a li'l baby doll face peeking out from under with word balloon</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">]</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">BABY FACE: mama</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">For surely we will all learn a valuable lesson from your mistake.</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">[</span><span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-style: italic;">pic of monster rearing up, throwing rug off, a mass of tentacles and folded insect legs, rows of shiny black eyes and scything mouthparts, a child's baby doll held carelessly upside down in a curled, dripping tongue</span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">]</span><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><br style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;" /><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">TOY DOLL: mama</span></span><div><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></span></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-74678266031916238402010-12-31T16:10:00.000-08:002020-10-28T16:45:04.492-07:00THE DEAD WATCH YOU MASTURBATE<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">What if the dead are attracted to impending orgasm? As you close in they swarm and beat about your skull, inside and out, and then they settle in, hanging on for a li<span style="color: #333333;">’</span>l jolt. When the moment comes, they flare from your head like an invisible crown of light, stiff, vibrating slightly as they feed. </span><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Whatever you do, don<span style="color: #333333;">’</span>t think of this the next time you... </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Well, you know.</span></div><div><br /></div></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-54149343974617422912010-10-05T12:21:00.001-07:002020-10-28T16:42:48.674-07:00In which I throw my very sad hat into the Internet fanfic ring.<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">On a rogue moon orbiting our galaxy perpendicular to the plane of the ecliptic I<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">’</span>m setting up the ultimate <i>Dungeons & Dragons</i> session beneath a spectacular sky spread not with the hard sparkle of stars but the oblong smears of distant galaxies. The Milky Way extends itself enormously off the head-bending curve of the gray, too-near horizon, providing a dim, but sufficient, light for what is sure to be an unforgettable, uh, evening, I guess. </span><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">A borrowed alien artifact—a hemispherical field generator—keeps the good stuff like air and warmth in while keeping the bad stuff like hard radiation and micrometeorites out. At least for the amount of time I have on the contract, which, if I understand it correctly, should be more than enough to complete the adventure as written. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">The gaming table is a cheap wooden picnic table complete with bench seats and splinters, all I could afford after stealing a time machine and trading most of the human race for the favors and technology to make this session possible. But otherwise I have provided for my guests, rolling up characters for them to save time, effort and confusion. Also spread upon the red-and-white checkered tablecloth are bowls of off-brand pretzels and poverty sodas with names like <i>Dr. Popper</i> and <i>Poopsie Cola.</i> Not for a lack of desire for nicer things, but only because <i>where we are</i> and <i>what we</i><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;"><i>’</i></span><i>re about to do</i> has cost most of what the human race would produce in its entire run. At least that<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>s the price quoted by my alien benefactors, and what do I know? I<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>m a Dungeon Master, not an economist, dammit. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I shuffle through my notes one last time, take in the entire spread from universe to snacks, and, after a deep breath, snap my fingers. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">In four staticky discharges of collapsing ball lighting, they arrive. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> <b>Emotional Spock</b></span></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding: 0px;"><a href="http://boardgamegeek.com/image/811339" style="color: blue; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><a href="http://boardgamegeek.com/image/811339" style="color: blue; text-decoration: none;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0CWvDZgv3ASaIZThMziuPNzEBpNUpKGN7BcpupmMEksaD80hBP1_BFaWQq-Yc9C3pA10COPZtwZ69tIE5Ph8OGiKGicXrdTAudX1rwcdqsY66N9brdOjlQTtOmv2VY5lEpG1bwLmwMQ/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="173" data-original-width="111" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0CWvDZgv3ASaIZThMziuPNzEBpNUpKGN7BcpupmMEksaD80hBP1_BFaWQq-Yc9C3pA10COPZtwZ69tIE5Ph8OGiKGicXrdTAudX1rwcdqsY66N9brdOjlQTtOmv2VY5lEpG1bwLmwMQ/" width="154" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
He laughs, he cries, he<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>ll do handcuffs and Nazi outfits. Should go a long way toward putting the <i>tic</i> in <i>Chaotic Neutral.</i> </span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Audio-Animatronic Abraham Lincoln</span></b></div><div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdisEziB0u7P5oQR5GR6w-3d841KUU0XKQxDtMx1lgwQD4cKecKwjSjY6kdhL-Dyges0SWycVRjDqktibTniuEdW3M8J_6hCG0DLEuGbdx6VJUes8fSwBkYjNT3WS0e4K7qgxavkeuiA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img alt="" data-original-height="230" data-original-width="160" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdisEziB0u7P5oQR5GR6w-3d841KUU0XKQxDtMx1lgwQD4cKecKwjSjY6kdhL-Dyges0SWycVRjDqktibTniuEdW3M8J_6hCG0DLEuGbdx6VJUes8fSwBkYjNT3WS0e4K7qgxavkeuiA/" width="167" /><br /></span></a></div></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
The only guest with special needs, I<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>ve provided RoboLincoln with a small nuclear pile to keep him perpetually powered, and a dual tape deck from the 1980s so when one of his program tapes runs out the other one has a pre-programmed tape-swap sequence that allows him to flip sides without interference from a human operator. </span></div><div><b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">John Wayne Genghis Khan</span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNhYgqOVHxvy3oVzqJjOptAOfCFiSmwTPpW7FFldbFd1C3m3XxrMQWLyapQKroddFeV2QD0J0sk8QHfGpCTTgNVDW9jPwEEhs5koCSzajlQNVBlsajSe62BYCvVrRiAc8JtKub4945A/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img alt="" data-original-height="230" data-original-width="167" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNhYgqOVHxvy3oVzqJjOptAOfCFiSmwTPpW7FFldbFd1C3m3XxrMQWLyapQKroddFeV2QD0J0sk8QHfGpCTTgNVDW9jPwEEhs5koCSzajlQNVBlsajSe62BYCvVrRiAc8JtKub4945A/" width="174" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Hot off the set of <i>The Conqueror.</i> Who says an American Icon can<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>t be a mongoloid? You? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Plain Ol' Eleanor Roosevelt</span></b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; margin: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; padding: 0px;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFDgY4NSatm4ZvljNGkrZq6ImQvcUJ1g2QuyqiSjzlPSnWUBrquuZObu3dlOV4Qf4_Z750j6RjEWtOp1Qs7MfuxyU-iuoonppMFKkka5mT817V8stTNJYEFIQBFaY4wKTBr-SYYY3KYA/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><img alt="" data-original-height="230" data-original-width="150" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFDgY4NSatm4ZvljNGkrZq6ImQvcUJ1g2QuyqiSjzlPSnWUBrquuZObu3dlOV4Qf4_Z750j6RjEWtOp1Qs7MfuxyU-iuoonppMFKkka5mT817V8stTNJYEFIQBFaY4wKTBr-SYYY3KYA/" width="157" /></span></a></div></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">
Yep. Just that. I<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>m hoping she can be the face of the party. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">For the briefest of moments they sit around the table, looking first, with a start, at the person across from them, then around at the awesome gaming spread and finally up into Forever. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I smell the unmistakable odor of Human Endeavor—<i>someone</i> has crapped their pants. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Eleanor Roosevelt lets out a piercing shriek and falls back from the table, nearly upending it as she goes. I realize she<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>s failed her SAN roll—and we<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>re not even playing a game where that<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>s supposed to happen! </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">John Wayne Genghis Khan rushes to her fetal form, trying to comfort her. He shakes his head in disbelief. "Holy cow—you<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>re Eleanor Roosevelt!”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Ms. Roosevelt blinks rapidly, the madness suddenly fleeing her face. “And you<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>re... <i>Genghis Khan?!</i>”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“No ma<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>am,” he laughs, hearty and deep, with real mirth. “If I were I<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>d<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>ve already raped you by now.” </span><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span><div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Emotional Spock stiffens bolt upright. “What,” he asks with eerie calm, “did you just say?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“I said,” John Wayne Genghis Khan drawls, “<span style="color: #333333;">‘</span>I<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>d<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>ve raped her by now.<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">EmoSpock pushes himself up from the table with his fists, eyes smoldering. “You will do. No. Such. Thing.” </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Calm down there, skinny, I<span style="color: #333333;">’</span>m not gonna hurt her. It was a hypotheti—aww, screw it. Why don<span style="color: #333333;">’</span>t you siddown before I make you.” </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br />“THEN MAKE ME!” screams EmoSpock. </span><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">John Wayne Genghis Khan stands and puffs out his chest. “Don<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>t think I won<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>t, pilgrim!” </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">EmoSpock snarls and they meet over the careful spread of dice, character sheets, maps and minis. It starts like a windmilling slap fight, as if neither of them wants any but both are too manly or enraged to admit it. The row rapidly escalates as EmoSpock keeps trying to pinch John Wayne Genghis Khan<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>s neck even as he is throwing loopy haymakers that constantly fail to connect. Mutually frustrated, they go to grappling and start rolling around on the table, ruining everything. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">This is the part where I pull the gun from my sweatpants waistband and pop a round into the ceiling. Of course it ricochets around the inside of the field for a sphincter-clenchingly long time before burying itself, thankfully, in the bone-dry regolith. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">EmoSpock is crying, bits of pretzel and minis stuck to his wet face.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Look, guys, c<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>mon—let<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>s just sit down and play this really fun game I<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>ve set up for you. It<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>s called <i>Dungeons and Drag</i>—” </span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“You brought us here?” EmoSpock<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>s face twists with rage, the cords in his neck standing out like F-Majors, if F stood for <i>fuck you up.</i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">I swallow. “Uh, no. He did.” I point at John Wayne Genghis Khan.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Aw, that<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>s a loada bull—”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">But EmoSpock has hurled himself over the table and planted a double side kick to the sternum just like they teach at Starfleet Academy. They collapse to the floor into a furball of cocked limbs and profanity.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Maybe I can pull something out of this after all. I turn to RoboLincoln. “Okay, you stand at the top of a dark stairway carved from the very bones of the Earth. It winds down into the depths one ten-foot drop after another—<i>these are not steps for mortal men.</i> Somewhere in the deep you hear something like distant thunder, or screaming.” I lean forward expectantly. “What do you do?”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">RoboLincoln clicks and buzzes, looks from the dice in front of him to his character sheet and then seems to regard me thoughtfully. “Four score and seven years ago,” he starts, “<i>Bzzzurt</i>, fathers brought forth incontinent, a nude nation, conceived in Labia, and dedicated to the propositioning that all men are created <i>fzzzapt</i>.”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Ah. Yeah. I'll take that as a <span style="caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">‘</span>going down.<span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333;">’</span>”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Thin shapes at the edge of my vision—<i>they're here for the field generator.</i></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Wait! No! Just a sec—”</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">It pops like a soap bubble and the atmosphere leaps away into the frigid sky. The air in my lungs hops after it, scampering out of my face in a gut-punching rush. I feel the spit boil off my tongue. As my blurred vision dims I can only think, <i>oh, god, this is bad, but RoboLincoln</i>—and then the Final Darkness swallows me whole.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><b>~</b></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">RoboLincoln sits at the table soundlessly reciting the Gettysmeg Address, dutifully flipping his tape over whenever it runs out... for four score and 10,000 years.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div></div></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-56168510027303308222010-10-05T12:15:00.000-07:002020-10-28T16:22:18.949-07:00You know, for kids!<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">Someone said I should write a children's book. So I did. Gather </span></span><span style="background-color: white; caret-color: rgb(51, 51, 51); color: #333333; font-family: times; font-size: large;">’r</span><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">ound, kids, and let Unka Tannhauser lay a heartwarming tale of God-given gifts, hope, and The Finish Line on your asses:</span><span style="color: #333333;"><br /><br /></span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: times;"><b><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">PAJOOKIE</span></span></b><span style="color: #333333; font-size: large;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">by Chris Tannhauser<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: #333333;"><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Once upon a time, on a small planet nestled in the fringes of our own Milky Way galaxy, a great race of people built a fabulous civilization.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">And it was in this civilization that a child named Pajookie lived, and went to school much as you do.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Of all the subjects that Pajookie had to study—cybermorphics, hyper-gnostic crabmatics, and “grund”—he loved art the best.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Art on this world was very different from the art you know; Pajookie could grab the sky with his mind and sculpt with clouds and rainbows. He could squeeze poems out of sunbeams.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">But most of all he could </span><i>make.</i><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"> It didn’t matter what he made, whether is was with rocks and hair and glue; or old skyfish bones and buttons and glue. Pajookie loved to make things.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">One day, Pajookie’s teacher-node made an announcement that set Pajookie’s mind on fire. </span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“Class,” burbled the teacher-node, “I have just received confirmation that the Artworld will be coming to our system in a few days.”</span><br /><br /><i>Artworld!</i><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"> The entire class hissed quietly, excited. Artworld—a rogue planet populated by artists; tunneling though hyperspace it materialized every now and again, seeking talented children to come and live and make art forever!</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“There will be an art contest at the end of week,” bubbled the teacher-node, “The winners will live on Artworld—</span><i>forever</i><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">.”</span><br /><br /><i>Nothing but art forever</i><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">, thought Pajookie. His tendrils shook. </span><i>I have to win that contest. I just have to.</i><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">On the first day, Pajookie tried to think of what he could do to impress the Artists and live forever. He thought and thought, he thought until he thought he would pop. But nothing would come to him.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Standish, his automatic servant, whose brain was nothing more complicated than 100 trillion gears the size of molecules, stood politely by his side. “I’m sure your project will be smashing,” he reassured.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Meanwhile, Deidre, one of Pajookie’s broodmates, began to coagulate light in the classroom foundry.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">On the second day, Pajookie hunted and trapped a rainbow, and borrowed a word from the sun. But he still had no idea what he was going to do with them.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“That’s a very fat rainbow,” said Standish. “Nice catch, sir.”</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Deidre, on the other tendril, took her gooey blobs of light and hung them in a lattice, and fixed the lattice into a great machine.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">On the third day, Pajookie took the rainbow and the word to his paste-beast, which was much like a cat filled with glue. But Pajookie stroked the paste-beast wrong and it vomited all over his project, gluing the rainbow to his primary sensory cluster, the word to the bottom of his shoe, and Pajookie to the paste-beast. His project was ruined. “I’ll never win now!” wailed Pajookie miserably.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“What a naughty paste-beast!” exclaimed Standish, “Bad paste-beast! Bad!”</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Pajookie paid no attention to Deidre’s project that day. He was far too sad to even notice that she was singing softly, giving each blob of light a different note.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">On the last day, Pajookie gave up. He didn’t even try. He just held his primary sensory cluster in his tendrils and did his best to keep from crying.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Standish was sympathetically quiet.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Then Deidre threw the switch on her machine and the lights twinkled and played their notes. The music was hauntingly beautiful. Pajookie only cried a little bit.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Pajookie picked at his lunch, disinterested no matter how hard it danced. The other children ran and squealed about the play yard, for in the sky everyone could see it—Artworld was in orbit far above them. It shone like a brilliant drop of rain, falling forever. Pajookie didn’t even look up.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Later that afternoon, Dada, the Lord of Art, teleported in from Artworld to judge the projects. He marched hurriedly along the row, waving his hand dismissively at the projects. When he reached Deidre’s light harp he paused. Deidre bowed deeply, and switched it on. Dada listened, his brows knitting tighter and tighter. Then, he spoke. “Yes, yes, standard,” he said, waving his hand. He strode onward to Pajookie, the last child.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">He looked around, puzzled. “And where is your project, youngling?”</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“I don’t have one,” said Pajookie glumly.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">The Lord of Art brightened. “Very interesting. </span><i>Very</i><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"> interesting, indeed.”</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“Ahem,” interrupted Standish, “If I may be so bold—not having a project is not his project, per se—he really doesn’t have one.”</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“Ahh,” sighed Dada, sounding very disappointed.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“He did have one,” Standish said, “But it went—”</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“It went all wrong,” Pajookie finished.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“I see,” said Dada. “Why isn’t it here?”</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Pajookie was flabbergasted. “It was terrible!” he blurted.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“That,” said Dada sternly, “Is for </span><i>me</i><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;"> to judge.”</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Dada, the Lord of Art, teleported out, having failed to find an artist worthy of living forever on Artworld. Later that evening, the glowing speck of Artworld itself vanished from the sky.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Pajookie gave up the art he loved, and tried many different things in the meantime...</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">He tried ice-wrestling and bug rodeo and went to a “grund” championship. Pajookie even got quite good at skyfishing, using a back-pack catapult that fired nets filled with hooks. And while that sounds very cruel, it isn’t, for skyfish have no brains as we understand them, in fact, they aren’t even alive. But they are delicious.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">“Nice shot, sir.” That was all Standish had to say most days.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">The weeks went by and it got to the point where Pajookie didn’t even miss art anymore. Well, almost. Sometimes, when he saw a rainbow, or heard the sun whisper, he thought of art. But it hurt too much. It hurt too much to think that he wasn’t good enough to be chosen, it hurt too much to think that the thing he loved most was something he would never do again.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">So he sucked it up and drank deep of despair to the point of no return and fell through life as the numb do until he collided with the weird falling-while-stopping-dead that is middle management. And though he ended up owning a knock-off of that famous four-space nitrogen-ice sculpture of god it brought him no joy for it was nothing but a reminder of the light he had let die inside.</span><br /><br /><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Pajookie’s only regret as the universe let slip the bonds that held him covalent, surrounded by a disappointing array of emotionally-stunted halfwits, was that he never had the balls to do a shooting spree. Literally—for the law of the land required at least five gonads to purchase a biomangulator.</span><br /><br /><i>Goddammit all—</i><br /><br /></span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">THE END</span></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></span></p>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-77600760026172180952010-10-05T11:48:00.000-07:002020-10-28T16:17:28.693-07:00The Banana Gun<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Okay, let’s say you commission an engineer to build you a “Banana Gun” because you think it would be really funny to be able to accurately fire bananas at unsuspecting fools. Your main concern is that the gun peel the banana in the process as you wouldn’t want to smack somebody with a high-speed, intact fruit (could put out an eye), but rather that they get whapped with harmlessly hilarious banana cream. The engineer, doodling, nods absently. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">After great expense and anticipation, the Banana Gun arrives. You uncrate it, clear away the excelsior and behold its gleaming beauty as it sucks the breath from your lungs: it’s all blued steel and carbon-fiber scaffolding, with exotic hardwood grips and stock. And, of course, a skeletal high-capacity banana clip within which the nascent fruit missiles can clearly be seen. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You pick it up slowly and get your first twinge of disappointment: it’s just this side of unwieldy. Still, you thumb the ON switch and all doubt flees as the thing hums to life and the gyroscopic stabilizer spins up, balancing it as fine as a stage magician’s throwing knife. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Pants tight, you jack the first banana into the chamber. The gun whines and a series of holo displays strobe from red, through yellow and into green with a cupcakes-done <i>DING!</i> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">You run to the front door and throw it wide, scanning for targets—for some reason, the Ice Cream Man is going through your mailbox! He bolts upright, startled, eyes wide at the sight of you, turgid and armed. You swing the gun up and the gyro takes over, pointing the barrel dead at the Ice Cream Man as if magnetically attracted to his fear. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“Asta la—” you begin when the gun suddenly discharges with a deafening thunderclap and searing flash of heat and light. You stagger back, blind and deaf, exposed skin sunburned, hair and clothes smoking. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Your vision clears before your mind does. At the end of the driveway you see boots, a roiling cloud of wet smoke, and an alluvial fan of gore and ruin slapped across the street, cars, front yards and neighbors’ houses. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">Barking dogs accompany a chorus of wailing car alarms, all to the back-beat of your throbbing tinnitus. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">“HIT HIT HIT,” says the Banana Gun distantly in a sexy-lady computer voice as it ejects the spent banana peel onto your porch. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">My question is: Dessert or plantain?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: -webkit-standard, serif; font-size: 13.5pt;"><br /></span></p>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7702471583734639174.post-83134329207967268612008-01-25T11:01:00.000-08:002020-10-28T16:11:50.233-07:00On my wrist as it is in the heavens.<div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><span style="font-family: times; font-size: medium;">The analog clock face is a cypher of All Time, 144 glyphs long, each one an echo of time gone by and a presage of time yet to come.</span><div><br /></div>Chris Tannhauserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08696499928170361102noreply@blogger.com0