WEP: Reunions

It's time for Write Edit Publish with Yolanda Renee and Denise Covey.  This month's theme is reunions.  There are so many possibilities with this month's theme.  Let's begin!

Tips for Surviving a Class Reunion

#1-Don’t let Facebook intimidate you.

            In the era of social media, people share everything.  What they eat, how much they exercise, the job promotions they got, etc.  People want to share their successes with the world (who doesn’t?), but the ability to pick and choose what gets shared can make it appear as if someone’s life is perfect.  This is a lie.

            Think of it this way.  Do you share a photo of yourself first thing in the morning complete with bedhead and eye boogers?  No.  Do you share that video of you trying a complicated dance move, tripping over a railing, and falling butt-first into a rose bush?  Of course not!  You don’t need to.  Someone you know will do it for you unless you destroy the evidence!  But if you’re not sharing that stuff yourself, your old classmates probably aren’t either.  This doesn’t mean those moments of humiliation don’t exist.

            People lie and manipulate facts on the internet all the time.  Shocking, right?

#2-Bring a buffer.

            If you have a significant other or friend who went to a different school than you did, drag them along with you.  This will help keep any awkward moments from getting too bad.  If the class bully asks if you ever fully recovered from that atomic wedgie, introduce them to your buffer.  What if a classmate approaches you about hooking up with their sweetheart senior year?  (You didn’t know they were dating!  How could you when you were always at the tail end of the gossip train?)  “Hey, I’d like you to meet [insert buffer’s name here].”  At the very least, they likely won’t try to punch you through your significant other’s face.  And if they do, it’ll make them look bad in front of everyone else.

            The down side to this is your friend/significant other may learn some embarrassing details about your teenage life.  If they love you enough to tag along for this, they probably won’t be too merciless with this newly acquired information.

#3-Practice your introduction.

            These people knew who you were a long time ago.  You’ve presumably changed a lot since then.  Even if you’re the same inept weirdo you were in high school, you don’t need to leave your ex-classmates with that impression.  Think of it like a job interview.  It’s all about framing the things you’ve accomplished in the right way.  Are you a waitress?  Congratulations!  Now you’re a food delivery technician!  Do you clean toilets?  Now you’re a health and sanitation expert.  Your job may not be glamorous, but other people don’t need to know that.  Presentation is crucial.

#4-Have an exit strategy ready.

            Reunions may be a good chance to catch up with old friends.  They might also be the perfect chance for old dramas to rear their head and strike.  A casual conversation can turn to one of bitterness and contempt quickly, and you should be prepared for that.  Have your buffer fake a medical emergency.  Have a friend on standby ready to call with an excuse to leave.

            You could also decide to tell people what you really think of them and casually stroll out afterwards.  You are an adult and free to leave at any time, after all.  You may even look just a little bit badass while you do it.  Unless you trip over your own feet on the way out.  Which you will, let’s face it.  That’s how these things work.

#5-Remember that you never need to see these people again.

            At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter how bad you mess up.  It doesn’t matter in the slightest what any of them think of you or of what you did with your life.  They may be a part of your past, but they don’t have to be a part of your future if you don’t want them to be.  The sooner you embrace this fact, the more fun you’ll have.

            Have a happy reunion everyone!

Word Count: 660 words

FCA

Defenestration

One of my favorite words is DEFENESTRATION.  Why?  It sounds cool, and it has a fun meaning.  Well, in some circumstances it does.

Defenestration means:

1: a throwing of a person or thing out a window

2: a usually swift dismissal or expulsion (as from a political party or office)

"Defenestration." Merriam-Webster.com. Merriam-Webster, n.d. Web. 9 May 2014. <http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/defenestration>.

If you're throwing  a person out of a window, it isn't typically a fun word then. Still, in general it's a good word.

Here's a drabble inspired by that word, as well as an incident involving the director Kevin Smith and water balloons.

Image courtesy of Steve Wilhelm/
Flickr

Defenestration

Josh looked at the cop with a calm expression.  “Why do you think I threw that water balloon out the window?”

“Several eyewitnesses say it was you,” the officer replied.

Crap!  Now what do I do?  “It was an act of political protest,” Josh declared.

The cop raised an eyebrow.

“I performed this act of defenestration to protest the companies that charge us money for something that falls from the sky every day,” Josh said passionately.  “I didn’t drop a water balloon.  I exercised my right of free speech.”

The cop handed him a slip of paper.  “Here’s your ticket.”

FSF: Those Infernal Silver Bells

It's time once again for Five Sentence Fiction.  The word for this week is SILVER.

I wanted to do something fun this time around.  Here's the result.  I hope you enjoy it!

Those Infernal Silver Bells

This time of year is difficult for people like me, though I hardly think anyone takes that into consideration when selecting their holiday adornments.  And no, this has nothing to do with religion, because while I am not religious myself, I take no issue with people expressing their beliefs.

Source

I must concede that yes, silver bells are pretty (there’s an entire song about them for crying out loud), but every time I see them hanging from a door or a hat, my muscles go so rigid with fright that people might assume I’d been literally frozen by the cold.

Lycanthropes have feelings too, and while most of those bells are in fact made of cheap plastic with only the thinnest layer of coating that’s probably never been anywhere near a piece of real silver, one can hardly blame me for being jumpy.  Still, my medical condition is my own burden to bear, so if I see you in the street with those infernal silver bells sewn into your ugly Christmas sweater, I won’t bite your head off (unless of course there happens to be a full moon, in which case I apologize in advance).

Love and Adventure, Nerd Style

I am officially too much of a nerd for my own good.  Today I decided to write a poem in the style of "Roses are red/violets are blue . . ."  We all know that poem. Instead of making it a standard love poem though, I've littered it with science fiction references.  Yeah, I know.  I just couldn't help myself.

Anyway, you'll find references from Doctor Who, Red Dwarf, Star Trek, Star Wars, Babylon 5, and Firefly.  It's basically a sampling of some of my favorite things.

Enjoy!

Love and Adventure, Nerd Style

The Dwarf is Red.

The TARDIS is blue.

Browncoats are cool,

and bowties are too.

The Force is imbalanced.

The Borg have arrived.

We must set course

for Babylon 5.

Corruption is strong.

Smegheads abound.

With Picard in the chair,

our odds are sound.

Bat’leths are sharp.

Light sabers are bright.

Beware the weeping angels

and Shadows in night.

The Reavers are waiting.

Serenity adrift.

Time is a luxury,

and love is a gift.

There’s no time to waste,

with a sky full of stars.

Get ready to fight

for what is ours.

Draw up a plan.

Aim for the rim.

We’ll fly beyond it,

all on our whim.

Set phasers to stun.

Get ready to go.

Let’s say to our dreams:

“Make it so.”

My Muse is Out to Amuse

I wanted to share a couple of videos about the writing process.  This first one is a humorous take on the writer's daily routine.

This second video features comedians who talk about their writing process. Hey, they're writers too!  They're just brave enough to perform their work for an audience.

George's Cynical Rules for Surviving a Comically Absurd Cosmos

Today I would like to share with you a little more bonus material I've written for my April A-Z Challenge story Adam's Apple.  (If you're interested in reading the story as written for the challenge, you can find it HERE.)

George seemed like a fun character, so I wanted to delve into his rules for surviving life.  This is not the entire list I've written for him, but a sampling of the first few.  Please let me know what you think!

George’s Cynical Rules for Surviving a Comically Absurd Cosmos

Dear Reader,

My name is George, and though I don’t particularly enjoy taking the time out of my day to do this, I’m writing this to offer you some words of wisdom and advice.  Not that they’ll necessarily do you any good.  If anything is inevitable in this life, it’s failure.  Even the most valiant efforts to make things right frequently go up in flames.

There’s one pesky fact you need to keep in mind at all times, and it is so important I’ve made it the first rule

Rule #1: The universe is out to get you. 

Try to ignore this fact all you want, but the fact that there are so many gruesome ways to die that I cannot help but conclude one thing.  This conclusion is summarized in the next rule.

Rule #2: We’re all screwed.

That doesn’t mean we should all give up and die, of course.  There are ways to extract entertainment value from the worst that life has to offer.  After all, why not?  We’re stuck here anyway.  Would you like to know the key to doing this?

Why do I even bother to ask that question?  If you’re reading these words, it means you haven’t yet walked away in boredom, and that fact could be counted as an implicit desire to hear more of what I have to say.  Of course, as I write this, I have no way of knowing whether you’re actually still reading or not, so I’ll keep writing.  If anything I write beyond this point scars or offends you in any way, it is entirely your fault for continuing.

Rule #3: Don’t take anything too seriously.

I may live my life as an eternal grump and general pain in the posterior, but it isn’t because I take things too seriously.  It’s because I’m a realist, and people don’t like what I have to say because they don’t want to admit that I’m right. 

I make it a point never to set goals, because that leads to disappointment.  If you start out from a point of having nothing, you’ll usually end the game with nothing.  There are the success stories that people like to hold up as a shining example of what you can get through hard work, but they frequently neglect to include the fact that part of any victory can be directly attributed to luck.  That’s one thing I don’t have.

So what’s one to do?  You can set a goal and hope life will work out in your favor, all the while risking disappointment.  Or you can accept your life for what it is and strive for mediocrity.  This may not be seen as a laudable goal, but it’s an achievable one.

Besides, if you did manage to make some headway in pursuit of a dream, someone is likely to cut you off and take all the credit for what you did.  Why?  See the next rule for an explanation.

Rule #4: Scoundrels usually win.

The universe is filled with people whose goal is to get to the top by any means necessary.  They’ll lie, cheat, steal, and drag your name through the muck until people think you’re the reprehensible one.  It’s a disgusting fact of life.  Just look at politicians.

A Brief History of Adam Evans and His Failed Romantic Encounters (Excerpt)

Hey guys!  I know this is a late posting.  I wanted to share this with you earlier, but real life demanded attention.  It has a way of doing that sometimes.

Though I haven't gotten as much work done as I'd have liked at this point, I have been trying to expand on and polish "Adam's Apple", which some of you may remember as my April A-Z Challenge story.  There's plenty more I'd like to do, but patience and persistence will get me there.

I wanted to share a little bit of the back story I've been writing for the protagonist Adam Evans.  Consider it bonus content.  While not crucial to the main story, it's still fun.

Here's an excerpt from "A Brief History of Adam Evans and His Failed Romantic Encounters."  The story about the go kart, the peach, and the turtle follows this piece, but I have to keep some things to myself.  At least for now.

Failed Encounter #1

Teenage Letdown

Adam Evans never knew quite how to interact with girls when he was high school.  His especially scrawny frame didn’t help, either, because he felt invisible next to the athletic types who seemed to have no trouble attracting female attention.  He needed to make an extra effort to stand out.  A lot of other boys his age might have been able to say they felt the same way, of course, but Adam seemed to have a special talent for screwing up each romantic possibility with dramatic flair.

He wanted to be confident around women, because he’d heard from plenty of people that women preferred a man who was confident.  However, he quickly learned that, when feigned badly, the confidence he hoped to display could come across as arrogance.  More than once he walked away from a girl with a well-deserved welt rising on his cheek.  Each injury, whether it was physical in nature or simply manifested itself as a bad case of wounded pride, steered him in the right direction.  The course corrections were gradual, and he often wondered if he would ever achieve the desired result.

Fortunately for Adam (or so he reckoned at the time, anyway), the course corrections eventually led him to Magdalena White during his senior year.  She had stunning long brown hair and . . . well, he would have noticed her gorgeous green eyes sooner if his attention hadn’t been drawn to certain other attributes.  Yet, even with this distraction competing for his attention, he couldn’t help but notice Magdalena’s sense of humor and casual demeanor.  She was cool without even trying.

One day he approached her in the hall.  On any other day, he might not have managed it, but he noticed she was wearing a Captain McNinja and the Bonehead Brigade t-shirt.  This had been his favorite comic book series since he was a kid, and if nothing else, he could surely talk to her about that.  Shoving one hand into his jeans pocket, he tried to adopt the relaxed walk he’d seen some of the more popular guys employ.  Unfortunately, the unnatural gait required so much attention that he didn’t see the classroom door swinging open directly in front of him.

A smash to the face and painful collision with the floor ensued.  Adam sat up as quickly as he could manage in an attempt to salvage his dignity.  Not that this was possible in a hallway filled with students.  A crowd grew around him within moments.  Several students were snickering, while others simply looked on in awe at how quickly Adam’s damaged nose released blood onto the floor.

Magdalena, however, stepped forward with a handful of tissues.  “Here, it looks like you need these.”

Humiliated, Adam took the offering and used it to stem the crimson tide that was threatening to wash away the last of his nerve.  Pushing himself to his feet, he decided to forge ahead before the blood loss made his head go fuzzy.  “I like your shirt.”

It didn’t take him long to see how disjointed that scene from his life must have looked to any outsider.  Magdalena surely thought he was already delirious, but she simply smiled.  “Thank you.”

She walked with him to the school nurse, holding on to his elbow the entire time.

“Did you hear they’re making a new Captain McNinja total immersion game?” Adam asked.  He wanted to get some kind of conversation going since she was still there.

“Yes, I did.  I hope it’s better than the last one.”  She shook her head.  “They completely ruined the ending with the reveal that McNinja’s father was actually the Assassin.  It only introduced a bunch of continuity errors, and it’s an overused plot point anyway.”

Hearing those words come from her mouth made him dizzy with awe.  Or perhaps it was the continued blood loss.

After being patched up by a doctor, he returned to school the following day.  Adam successfully engaged Magdalena in conversation every day for the rest of the week without offending her, or without embarrassing himself a second time.  After accomplishing that seemingly impossible feat, he worked up the nerve to ask her out.  She even said yes!

They had exactly one date.  All went well until he dropped her off at home.  He got his first real kiss that night, which was fairly amazing.  At least for him.  Apparently the feeling wasn’t mutual.

“You deserve a girl who can appreciate everything you have to offer,” she told him afterwards.  “I think you’re a cool guy, but the kiss didn’t do anything for me.  That’s essential, you know?”

Adam went home feeling more dejected than ever.  How could he guess that this would be the most normal of his romantic failures?

A Heartfelt Letter to a Lovely Teacher

I knew I wanted to post something today, but the time got away from me.  This was in part due to the fact that I have kids and other demands that occupy a fair bit of my time.  It was also due in part to the fact that I was procrastinating.

Yes.  I was procrastinating.  We are all guilty of it from time to time, and perhaps more often than we would like to admit.

Then I thought, hey, I can use my procrastination as a source of inspiration.  I started thinking about being a kid and putting off homework.  I was always a good student, but that didn't stop me from leaving things until the last minute.

Anyway, I envisioned a kid doing everything he could to avoid doing his homework.  This little story is the result.  Enjoy!

A Heartfelt Letter to a Lovely Teacher

Dear Ms. Meade,

I am writing this letter to you under the most grievous of circumstances.  Though I eagerly anticipated working tirelessly through the night to complete the writing assignment for your wonderful class (which also happens to be my absolute favorite class, by the way), I was rendered incapable of doing so by the cruel wheels of fate.

After eating dinner, I settled in my room to do my assignment.  My notebook was open, an assortment of pencils ready to go.  Then my walkie talkie, which I use to talk to my best friend Bill who lives next door, started to emit the strangest sounds I’ve ever heard in my long fourteen years of living.  I looked around the room, eager to locate the source of the interference so I could get to work on my assignment.  That’s when I saw it.

A beam of glowing blue light shot through my bedroom window.  I sat there, stunned into silence as a life-size hologram of the President of the Interstellar Alliance materialized before me.  Of course, I didn’t know who she was until she introduced herself.  She told me that she came all the way from Pollux to ask me for my help.  The fate of a dozen worlds hung in the balance, and due to a special skill that only I have (I would go into more detail about it here, but it’s a matter of interplanetary security now) I was the only person who could save the day.

Believe me when I say that I agonized over my decision to put the lives of countless billions of people before completing my homework on time.  I genuinely wanted to fulfill my obligations as a student, but I also acknowledged that I needed to fulfill a more pressing set of obligations.

I’ll tell you, the job she needed me to do wasn’t easy.  I was up until well past midnight completing my vital task.  I cannot go into too many details, as the political landscape of the Interstellar Alliance has been strained as of late.  Were I to accidentally divulge too much, my slip-up could contribute to the unraveling of the peace treaties that bind these worlds together in peace and prosperity.  That could lead to war, invariably nullifying all of my previous efforts.  Clearly I could not allow that.

You are a wonderful educator and an all-around good person, so I am certain you can understand why I chose as I did.  In the real world, the needs of the many outweigh my need to get a good grade on a single English paper.  I can only hope that you kindly allow me the opportunity to make up for my failure in the future.

Sincerely,

Simon Griswald

Dear Mr. Griswald,

I can only say that I found your letter most fascinating.  I have been an educator for many years, and I have seen some interesting excuses for late work in my time.  This is perhaps one of the most eloquent and creative excuses for failing to turn in an assignment that I have ever seen.  I am impressed by the way you carefully worded your letter to elicit a specific response in your reader.  That takes skill.  It takes thought.  Also, judging by the length of your letter, it also took you a bit of time.

Perhaps I should make a suggestion that may help you in the future.  Next time, you could try channeling your creativity and your undeniable way with words into the actual assignment.  It probably would have taken you the same amount of time to do so as it took you to write this letter.

Sincerely,

Ms. Meade

P.S. I can easily see you going into a career in writing or politics.  You could go a long way with your talent.

The Weekend Philosopher: Douglas Adams

This has been an extraordinarily busy weekend.  With my Towel Day Blogfest going on through Monday, and this being a holiday weekend on top of all that, I'm going to do something simple for my philosophical post for the week.

In this spirit of Towel Day and Douglas Adams, I'm going to share a few quotes that I feel are philosophical in nature.

"For instance, on the planet Earth, man has always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins because he had achieved so much-the wheel, New York, wars and so on-whilst all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having a good time.  But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they were far more intelligent than man-for precisely the same reasons."

-The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

"The fact that we live at the bottom of a deep gravity well, on the surface of a gas covered planet going around a nuclear fireball 90 million miles away and think this to be normal is obviously some indication of how skewed our perspective tends to be."

-The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time

It's all about perspective, indeed.  If that makes you feel uncomfortable at all, remember this.

"I'd take the awe of understanding over the awe of ignorance any day."

-The Salmon of Doubt

If your new expanded perspective on life is freaking you out, you can choose your outlook, as we learn from the following quote:

“What to do if you find yourself stuck in a crack in the ground underneath a giant boulder you can't move, with no hope of rescue. Consider how lucky you are that life has been good to you so far. Alternatively, if life hasn't been good to you so far, which given your current circumstances seems more likely, consider how lucky you are that it won't be troubling you much longer.”

―The Original Hitchhiker Radio Scripts

And, above all, keep this in mind.

"Don't Panic."

-The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Hopefully that gave you plenty to think about as you go about your weekend. Cheers!

The Towel Day Blogfest

It's May 25th!  Do you know where your towel is?

Today is Towel Day, a day to honor the memory of the amazing Douglas Adams.  I decided to host this blogfest, because I've loved the work of Douglas Adams for most of my life.

(A quick note.  The linky list will remain open through the end of the blogfest, so feel free to jump in!  Click HERE to find all pertinent details.)

I've read all of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy books.  I've heard the radio programs.  I also own the book below, which is a great peek into the life of Douglas Adams.  If you're a fan and you haven't read this, I highly recommend it! I also find it notable to mention that page 42 of this book is left blank.  This was an appropriate choice.

I wasn't sure what I wanted to share at first, which is funny since I'm the one hosting this blogfest.  I decided to share a few Douglas Adams quotes that speak to me, and I figured I would wrap things up with a little flash fiction tribute.

Quotes

"I love deadlines.  I like the whooshing sound they make as they fly by."

"A common mistake that people make when trying to design something completely foolproof is to underestimate the ingenuity of complete fools."

"Flying is learning to throw yourself at the ground and miss."

"For a moment, nothing happened.  Then, after a second or so, nothing continued to happen."

"The Guide is definitive.  Reality is frequently inaccurate."

"The mere thought hadn't even begun to speculate about the merest possibility of crossing my mind."

"There is a theory which states that if ever anyone discovers exactly what the Universe is for and why it is here, it will instantly disappear and be replaced by something even more bizarre and inexplicable.  There is another theory which states that this has already happened."

"Human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from the experience of others, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so."

I could cite so many more amazing quotes, but I'll have to leave it at that for now.

Now I hope you'll enjoy my flash fiction.

The Tale of the Lost Towel

Zerndoggle Ramfort Smith III woke early on the morning of his 42^nd birthday with a sinking feeling in his kneecaps.  Most people got sinking feelings in their stomachs, except for the Fetts of sector ZZ5 Plural A Beta who had no stomachs at all, but Zerndoggle could never get the hang of normalcy.

Why did he have this highly irregular sensation?  He’d committed a grievous error, one far too ghastly for even the Monks of Eternal Repentance to understand.

Zerndoggle forgot where his towel was.

Not that he would admit this, of course.  He instead contended that his towel suffered from spontaneous massive existence failure.  Surely if it could happen to the Starship Titanic, it could happen to his towel.

Unfortunately, the mystery of the missing towel went far deeper than a simple SMEF problem.

The towel, still damp from Zerndoggle’s last bath, was inadvertently left next to a ballpoint pen.  When the wormhole inevitably opened to take the ballpoint pen to its home planet, the towel was pulled through along with it.

The damp towel landed on the back of a giant mutant star goat that happened to be floating past the ball point pen planet.  Mold soon began to grow on the towel, and soon it was home to an entire mold colony.  Over the millennia, the mold evolved until super-intelligent mold spores began to launch from the towel.  The spores encountered many species, and they settled in the brain tissue of the travelers they encountered.  These travelers didn’t suffer from any outward signs of illness due to this mold infestation, save for one terrifying symptom.  The infested all developed a sincere love for Vogon poetry.

As for Zerndoggle . . . his fate was too terrible to mention here.  What else could you expect?  You always need to know where your towel is.

Z: Zipping Around the Cosmos

This is a continuous story.  Click HERE to start at the beginning with entry A. You can also find the entire story, from start to finish, on this PAGE.

Zipping Around the Cosmos

A few stunned moments later, Layla hovered into Adam’s field of view.  She seized his shoulders and shook him, a distinct edge of panic revealing itself in the action.  “Hey!  Are you all right?”

Adam pushed himself into a sitting position.  He looked down, and it became clear from his physical appearance, in addition to the rather pleasant fact he was still alive, that he hadn’t been shot.  The book that had fallen by Adam now lay open on the floor, and several pages were torn.  It didn’t take a genius to realize that, in his futile attempt to escape the blast of the phaser, he’d tripped over the book.  The wall behind him had a new charred crater, and the smell of burnt paint wafted across the room.  The fall, which should have been embarrassing, actually saved his life.  “Yeah, I am.”

Layla wrapped her arms around him, squeezing so tight he couldn’t move.  “You scared me.   Don’t do that again!”  She sounded as though she was on the verge of tears, but she held it together.

“I’ll try not to,” Adam promised.  Then his synapses kicked into gear, the initial shock dissipating in light of a far larger concern.  “Bibble!  What happened to him?”

“Come see,” Layla said, offering Adam a hand.

She led him to the other side of Bibble’s desk, where the wild-eyed magistrate sat on the floor, drool running down his chin.  His eyestalks had twirled into a braid from which they couldn’t seem to untangle.  The syringe was still buried in his neck.

“You got him!” Adam’s tension was washed away by an overwhelming sense of relief.

“We got him,” Layla corrected.

“It worked so quickly.”

Layla grinned.  “No.  The nanos take time to do their magic, so the syringe was also loaded with sedatives.”

“Brilliant,” Adam acknowledged.  “So, that was it?  We’re done?”

Layla shook her head.  “I need to call the rebels in here and have them come collect Bibble.  Then we’re done.”

“I just . . . I thought it would take longer than this.  All that planning leading up to this moment, and it was over in a couple of minutes.”

“That’s because we planned well,” Layla replied.

“I guess.”  Perhaps Adam was spoiled by movies and total immersion games where the final conflict often took a minimum of ten minutes.  Or books, where the climax spanned a number of pages, embarking on a number of twists, turns, dips, and dizzying highs.

This . . . was certainly not that.  Yet it was a conclusion nonetheless.

When the rebels arrived, a few of them seemed genuinely disappointed that there hadn’t been a glorious battle, but most of them were simply happy for it to be done.  They hauled Bibble to his feet, whose drugged smile and limp, tangled eyestalks made him seem so ridiculous no one could quite believe he’d ever posed a danger to anyone.

Adam and Layla decided to take a walk along the streets of Dyntaxi Prime before heading back to the ship.  The sidewalks were paved with emerald green stones, which paired surprisingly well with the golden sky overhead.  During his first visit here, he hadn’t had the opportunity to appreciate the beauty of this world.  Yet now, as he took in the sights, it only fueled his uncertainty.

“I’m not sure what I want to do with my life now,” Adam said softly, shoving his hands deep in his pockets.  “I could try to go back to my normal life once the details get sorted out here, but all my things have already been sold.  I’m sure someone else already has my old job.  One way or another, I have to start all over again.”

Layla slipped her hand into his.  “You want something different, don’t you?  This whole ordeal, as odd and dangerous as it was, made you want more, didn’t it?”

“It did,” he admitted.

“You could come with me instead.”  Layla shrugged.  “I’m not sure what I’m going to do now, but I have a spaceship.  We could spend our time zipping around the cosmos, seeing where life leads us.  It could be fun.”

The prospect filled Adam with the kind of excitement he only recalled feeling as a kid.  “All right.  I’ll stay as long as you can stand me.”

*          *          *          *          *

George, sickened by the idea of sharing close quarters with two lovebirds long term, departed to find his own way.  “If you need me, you know where to find me.  Just try not to need me,” he told Layla grumpily before she beamed him down to the surface of Warmickan 3.

A week passed.  Adam and Layla had already visited two worlds on the fringe of the Federation in search of new sights.  They were in transit to a third when they received a transmission from Dyntaxi Prime.  Layla read it first.  Her jaw dropped as she perused the text.

“What is it?” Adam asked as he walked into the cockpit.

“It’s a message from the new magistrate,” she replied.  “It says that he’s grateful for our service to the Federation, and that Bibble is doing well in his new prison cell.”  She paused.  “He’d also like to remind you that you owe a fine for the nudity complaints lodged against you while you were in custody.”

Adam was dumbfounded.  “They wouldn’t let me get dressed!  How can they fine me for that?”  He shook his head.  “It looks like my bad luck is returning.”

Layla laughed.  “Oh well.  At least it’ll keep things interesting.”

Y: Yammering With Bibble

This is a continuous story.  To start at the beginning, you can click HERE to go to entry A.  You can also go read the entire story from the beginning by going to this PAGE.

Yammering With Bibble

The knitted blankets succeeded in their task.  The rebels intercepted subspace transmissions declaring that a significant number of enforcers were being dispatched from the DULL office on Dyntaxi Prime.

Adam, Layla, and George set out on the little ship they used to escape from Dyntaxi Prime the last time.  The dynamic this time was vastly different from before.  Adam was no longer the outsider that felt like a third wheel.  Though the two of them hadn’t officially worked out the details of their relationship, Adam couldn’t deny that the night he spent with Layla was the best he’d ever had.  And even with all the tension regarding their mission, he caught her giving him little smiles now and then.

George, who quickly grew disgusted with both of them, largely kept to himself.  When the time came, he’d be with the transporter, but he remained scarce the rest of the time.

*          *          *          *          *

Layla and Adam strolled casually into Magistrate Bibble’s office.  Each of them had syringes filled with nanobots tucked into their clothing.  She’d called ahead and demanded a meeting with Bibble, saying she was ready to negotiate with him.  He happily granted it.

They were welcomed by Bibble’s twirling eyestalks.  Adam looked slightly to the side to avoid vertigo.

“Hello, Ms. Garrison.”  One of Bibble’s eyestalks regarded Adam.  “Why did you bring him?”

“He’s part of the negotiation,” she replied.  “I want you to give him his life back.”

Bibble twisted his thick lips into a sneer.  “Even assuming such a thing were possible, why would you choose that as your demand?”

Layla held her head high, refusing to buckle under the abrasiveness.  “That’s simple.  In the time since I took him out of here, I’ve fallen in love with him.  I didn’t plan to do it, but it’s happened, so his future naturally matters to me.”

Though Adam knew this statement was part of the plan, he still felt something stir inside him.  Could her words have a ring of truth to them?

The eyestalk that had been focused on Adam whipped back around to bear on Layla, sending several items from his desk clattering to the ground in the process.  A book about the history of Federation law came to a rest by Adam’s feet.  “If I were able to make that happen, you would give me the nanobots willingly?” Bibble inquired.

Layla nodded firmly.  “Yes.”

Bibble opened a drawer in his desk and sifted through its contents.  “You know that’s extortion, and extortion is highly illegal, especially when it involves a high government official.”

Adam felt Layla grip his hand, and he knew she felt as scared as he did.

“I thought of it as a simple negotiation,” Layla replied, somehow holding her voice steady.

“The law doesn’t look at it that way, Ms. Garrison.”  Bibble grinned as he found what he was looking for.  When he pulled his hand out of the drawer, it was wrapped around a shiny blue phaser.  They watched as he cranked the dial over to an undoubtedly lethal setting.  He aimed it at Adam’s chest.  “Now, since you attempted to extort me, I can have you arrested.  Any nanobots in your possession would go to me.  As for your friend, he clearly violated the terms of his exile.  Given that he no longer officially exists, I could shoot him and dispose of his body with no legal repercussions.  So, Ms. Garrison, can you explain to me why I should go with your plan instead when I have an option available to me that will work within the parameters of the law?”

Neither of them had an answer.  Layla dropped Adam’s hand, as if preparing herself to make a desperate move.

If there were ever a time for the Ludicrous Field to do its work, this would be it, Adam thought.

“I didn’t think you could,” Bibble said.

From the corner of his eye, Adam saw Layla reach into her pocket.  She had to be going for the nanos.

Then Bibble’s finger was on the trigger.  It would take the slightest of moves to end Adam’s life.  He instinctively stepped backwards, while Layla lunged across the desk at Bibble with the syringe in hand.  A beam of energy shot out of the weapon, passing her in midair on the way to its target.

Adam’s confused mind couldn’t make sense of anything as he hit the floor.

Proceed to entry Z.