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“We CAN We WILL We MUST”
Major Ginnes had just finished updating the appliques on the wall when Captain Terok limped in. All eyes turned to face him as he swatted a few storm appliques to the floor, drew a piece of coral chalk from a pocket, drew an ‘X’ on the Sulfur Giants’ isle and a line RIGHT ACROSS THE EGG FIGHT that would be happening for another month. Gasps of ‘no’ and ‘impossible’ whispered through the room. Ginnes stood up from reflexively bending for an applique, saw the chalk work, and looked on in disbelief. Terok sat down heavily and gave a sarcastic half-salute with his stump of a right arm.
“I saw the everberry tree grove,” he said. I had six men left. Myself and the other survivor agree. Had we had a full crew starting through, we would now have enough to feed our entire population.
“But we can’t do that!” blurted out Ginnes.
Terok pounded a fist on the table and said—
*The blade became ‘bad wave appliques,’ the drumstick became the opposing shore and pieces of the lake, and the forearm became a hat, half a hat, a chair back, part of the non-drumstick isle, a chalk stub, an arm stub, and part of an arm shadow. I think that might be a record for me for most uses.
*OPMC
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Elementals live a long time, supposedly.
Of course, a felonious light elemental should always be sent to prism . . .
*blog: redesign of other’s work.
“Dude! Jerry was really something. He couldn’t talk right but invented stuff. He mixed up a cleaner for his brother that ate all the mold out of the building we used for the last two raves. Then that girl Tawny? She had a bad trip one night, and Jerry stopped eating his carrots and mixed something up and poured it into her nose. She didn’t just get better, dude–she doesn’t have asthma anymore. He said ‘keep inhaler, see doctor’ but I don’t know whether she did.
Tawny was really friendly with him after that. She was always telling him to not go outside without someone watching him–he got lost, you know? Then his brother told him he was bored with the drugs he knew; wanted something that would really make him more alive. Jerry always loved making his brother happy. Jerry just stood around, munchin’ on his carrots, fiddling with stuff for a couple days.
Jerry’s brother had a bad trip then. Said he saw Jerry’s dandruff crawling down the drain and Jerry missing. Some other dude said he saw Jerry runnin’ out into the woods sayin’ he was gonna pour a drug out in the snow. Who knows what he really meant. Tawny went lookin’ but all she found were some tracks. The cops came then and shut us down for a while . . . ”
*snowman contest: not sure it this really counts, but there are four and a ‘third’ snowmen in this picture.
This is this year’s SantaSwap Incorporative. Every gift given to me in the SantaSwap3 before the 22nd has been included. Remember; resistance was futile–it WAS assimilated!
The Brothers Grimly Page 1 of 4
In The West Rooms . . .
Zall reflected upon the coming Fool’s Day as he shaved. The razor wasn’t as sharp as he remembered, or maybe the shaving cream wasn’t as good–he wasn’t sure which. He fought back a smile, thinking of the competition to come. Wouldn’t do to cut himself–he had to look his best as he leered at his brother after winning.
Magical pranks were the specialty of the twins. Their mother and father had raised them to be mere assistants in their magic act, expecting them to switch places, assume awkward poses in tight places, memorize those boring routines, but not since their thirteenth Fool’s Day. On that day the greatest prank of all had been played! The twins had worked real magic for the first time. It hadn’t been a curtain or a shower of flower petals or a flurry of doves that had exploded out from the stage. It had been a fireball. A REAL fireball. Not just the showy flash they were used to! It had completely vaporized the stage. The audience, the so-called magicians that they called mother and father, the curtains, the theater–all just a bit of ash. Zall remembered how he and his brother had stared at each other in their singed costumes for a moment, stunned at the loss of their family, but drunk and overjoyed with the level of power, sheer POWER that they now had. By the time the fire department came they were giggling like babies.
They made the firemen hose each other off in the unseasonably frigid air, starting the infamous pneumonia epidemic that eventually reduced the burden of overpopulation throughout America and Europe. They made earthquakes the following day, tornadoes and cloudbursts the next. When the surviving reporters brought them their own personal presidential radio address, they were delighted to hear that they would receive free airfare to Korea and an emperor’s welcome. The twins boarded their donated plane to a standing ovation and flew across the Pacific despite the bomb in the cockpit that magically appeared in the White House, the poison in the air conditioning that apparently made living shadow puppets when it appeared in Death Valley, and the nuclear missile that not only didn’t hit the plane but turned into a giant stuffed bear and bounced on the water all the way to the Bering Strait.
They had lived like kings in South Korea, everyone afraid not to please them, until the next Fool’s Day. Zimme had startled Zall, and the coastline of North and South Korea had gone up in smoke. Feeling sheepish, the twins had erased all bullets and explosives in the region, conjured enough dry stores to feed the rest of Korea for twenty years, and moved to China. The competition had begun. Who could pull the biggest prank to startle or scare the other? The most inventive would have more sweets for the year than the other, the more effective scarer would pick where they lived next. That WAS important, since they tended to ruin regions with this game of theirs.
Zall was pretty sure he had it this year. He had taken a brand new razor and some high quality shaving cream and swapped out his brother’s stuff. Used on anyone else, it would just be a wonderful shave. It was hexed though; shaving with it would take away Zimme’s magic. It WAS fixable. All it would take would be a hug between the brothers, and all would be restored. Neither of them had ever tried anything like this before. It wasn’t showy or fabulous like most things they tried. Maybe this was just a sign they were truly growing up.
Then he heard banging outside his suite. It was a bit early to be starting, but his brother took pride in ‘window dressing,’ setting a mood through elaborate sets and props aplenty. It was nice to see such dedication, to know that the competition should be taken seriously. Zall finished shaving and smiled, imagining his brother’s face when it came time to cast the big spell or illusion. Zall walked out of his suite to see a window crudely boarded up. This had been the nicest of hotels the region had to offer, but they knew the score. If the foundation of the hotel was still here when the brothers left, they might rebuild rather cheaply. Only a fool sent anyone but the terminally ill to wait on them this time of year, anyway–so what difference did some vandalizing make? Zall smiled warmly. His brother did make a good effort. In the next room he saw a television on. He checked the guide. The guide function up said a zombie movie was going off and a Twilight Zone episode was coming on. Zall squinted and read the blurb. It would be the famous episode with the giant eye looking in through the window. He’d seen that rerun doing research for an effective prank several years ago. Zall put down the remote, frowning. “Which one?” he said, and passed through the door. Suddenly he could barely move or breathe, and a horrible smell entered his nose. He gasped and would have retched, but he could not. He grabbed his belly, and his hand sunk into it. He looked helplessly at gore dripping off his hands and found himself trying to climb out of a coffin. He found, then, that he could not scream or even speak. “The remote!” he thought. “He made it ready to put me in the movie! @#$%^ I feel so HUNGRY!”
The Brothers Grimly Page 2 of 4
In The East Rooms . . .
Zimme reflected upon the coming Fool’s Day as he shaved. The razor wasn’t as sharp as he remembered, or maybe the shaving cream wasn’t as good–he wasn’t sure which. He fought back a smile, thinking of the competition to come. Wouldn’t do to cut himself–he had to look his best as he leered at his brother after winning.
Zimme was pretty sure he had it this year. He’d caught a glimpse of Zall sneaking out of his bathroom. It had taken him all of ten minutes to turn invisible, to sneak in to swap that brand new razor and high quality shave cream back into Zall’s bathroom, and to take back his own shave cream and slightly dull razor. Whatever Zall had done to it would simply not happen to Zimme. Zall would know instantly, of course. So they were starting early. Zimme smiled fondly as he rushed through breakfast. He knew that the movie-morphing he planned for Zall would be very scary. It had been a lot of work to prepare the combined illusions and projections and trigger them onto the television remote. Zall would need to be healed quickly, of course. Zimme finished the healing spells, laid out the remote, turned on the television, and boarded up a window hurriedly. Then he passed through the door. Suddenly he found himself in an unfamiliar room with wrong-sized furniture. There was a small couch, an over-sized statue, and shelves of books. “Hah!” he thought, “A door spell. He’s swapped me to another room. Not bad, but not very scary.”
He had just had time to realize that the books were oddly painted fakes when a zombie with Zall’s face burst into the room, guts dripping onto the floor. Zimme tried a simple protection spell, but Zall kept coming. Zimme turned and ran sideways out of the room, barely noticing the odd, slippery surface under his feet until he came to the edge. Zall repeatedly tried to bite Zimme while tackling him and all the way through the long fall to their death.
The Brothers Grimly Page 3 of 4
Then, In The Common Room . . .
One wall of the common room shimmered and disappeared. Then Abim walked out. Putting on a pair of heavy latex gloves, he bent to pick up the small quivering mess on the floor with a glass slide. The two brothers had been crushed by the fall and now occupied the approximate volume of a dime. Abim viewed them on the microscope on the same table as the dollhouse he’d put them in to die. “Quite dead,” he said, satisfied.
Abim thought about the years of enduring stagefright while his brothers had plotted in secret to kill their parents. How when the triplets had suddenly developed their powers he, Abim, had been forgotten by everyone. His fondest wish! To not be noticed at all by anyone until he wanted it. It had taken him years to get over the burns he’d suffered, for his other powers to reach this level.
He was ready now. After years of watching his brothers’ immature contests and destruction, Abim had simply taken their power as they died. Even with all three brothers’ worth of power, it would never be enough to bring back either parent, but their mother HAD been pregnant with their younger sister . . . so much more life. Her remains were in stasis, her power protecting her. Abim had found her before his skin had finished blistering, wrapped her in a bit of his costume, and fled to seek medical attention. In time he had taken over most of her power, as her protector surely had a right to, and would now use it and the power of three to bring her to full life. The glass orb that held her remains was wrapped in a box tied with a magic knot that would drain all needed power into the finely crafted spell of life instantiation. He would simply tidy up a bit first. It wouldn’t do to greet his baby sister with STUBBLE. Her skin would be delicate.
Abim had watched Zall childishly steal Zimme’s shaving kit. Those two had always done things like that. Well. Fifteen minutes after that theft, Abim had swapped his own shaving kit for the stolen one. Abim reflected upon how the Fool’s Day had gone as he shaved. The razor was amazingly good as he thought it would be, or maybe the shaving cream was just really high quality–he wasn’t sure which. He fought back a smile, thinking of how the competition had gone. Wouldn’t do to cut himself–he had to look his best as he greeted his little sister properly for the first time.
He picked up the package and paused. Was the television still on? His sister deserved something better to hear in her first moments of full life than the Twilght Zone theme music! Still holding the package, he stormed through the door and picked up the remote. There was movement in the corner of his eye as he switched off the television. Turning, he saw a glimpse of a huge, black-and-white eye through the boarded-up window as a giant hand crushed him and his sister’s orb with the rest of the room.
When Unrelated Facts Aren’t Unrelated At All
Kwesi turned to Kwami. “Why hasn’t anyone come into the library all day?”
The two librarians looked outside. The weather seemed fine. As they left that evening, they noticed the walk just past the steps were sticky and smelled funny. There was also some odd rubble at the edge of the path. They shrugged it off and left.
******
Sister Mary frowned. Why were the three new monks late returning from the new library? All they had to do was deliver the box of Bibles. It wasn’t even HEAVY.
******
Tom frowned. He was in trouble. He’d spent five weeks teaching sixteen different animals in the preserve how to roll over on command. The circus was going to swap them out on his recommendation at much expense. The very first pair he approached wouldn’t roll today. The rep was going to be here any time–he was finished, FINISHED. He’d never get the animal training job without their recommendation . . .
******
Luigi came to in a hospital bed. He tried to speak but his jaw was wired shut. His hands were bandaged and in restraints. He was baffled and very upset. His truck? His truck with the two oddly gray lions the circus had paid him to swap for the two ordinary ones, where was it? The bill of lading hadn’t mentioned they were gray, but they were in the right pen. Couldn’t raise anyone on that stupid radio . . . He’d had that wreck right after he passed the library with the featureless porch–He couldn’t seem to get anything across to the nurse . . .
******
Kovacs’ crew was very upset. SOMEONE had a lot of explaining to do . . . Kev had left the delivery truck HALF A MILE from the building. It was just a dead battery! Then some fool ran another truck into theirs. Smashed the gray marble statues to smithereens. Kev had barely been gone an hour when he got back with Willem. They had brought back the unbelievable news with the truck with the smashed statues. Someone had ALREADY MADE THE DELIVERY . . .
******
Craig frowned. He was in SO much trouble. He’d brought the wrong truck to the wildlife preserve this morning. It was full of gray volcanic ash instead of the mulch he was supposed to put in the lions’ feeding area. He’d gone ahead and dumped it out before he looked–and left for lunch in disgust at his mistake.
Credit: Cliff’s Library Front from SantaSwap3 to illustrate this story.
Hey-hey! After trial (pc dying of virus that baffled the computer guys) and tribulation (learning by error new software–in process,) I am ready to post the only pic I seem to be able to finish. Data recovery and ‘decryption’ (more on that later,) should be accomplished within the week.
The city folk turned out in droves to celebrate the first ever “Checkered Wyrm Fest” as the first one successfully drawn out of Checkered Pass to be slain by the local militia was butchered, barbecued, and descaled, not in universal order. The darker plates were enough to armor the rest of the new city wall, which was a great relief, since more than 100 oliphant’s hides were required to restrain the wyrm during its last set of death throes.
*OPMC
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Breaking through science to access magic required some irritating paperwork and policy rewrites along the way . . .
Peculiar thing? I don’t seem to be able to do a pic with more than 100 layers? Cuts down on my quality quite a bit.
“The old one REALLY wasn’t prepared to see his youngest daughter laying seductively on the front of a sporty new model on the cover of one of THOSE magazines. Seeing his eldest in the driver’s seat; well, he HAD seen that coming . . . ”
(JR said vehicles couldn’t be used in anything critical. So I used one in the second cover model.)
*vehicles
*mage
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R1T3 is a droid made for truing various objects, buildings, etc. He had to be banned and electronically fenced away from the Leaning Tower of Pisa.
*OPMC
Fellow Neis walked out of a tavern with a mage, a dwarf, a bard, and a barbarian. He walked on alone.
*Pal-adin
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Not everyone was cured at the new healing center, but there were no complaints.
*Cleric
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Ms. Brown could forgive Deacon Jamison his holier-than-thou attitude, his boring Bible Study, his messing up the church kitchen and leaving it for her, his arrogant and pedantic way of demonstrating his no-mess-finger-dough-rolling technique, his dalliances with the occasional college coed, and never complimenting her cooking or giving HER a second look.
Not sharing the recipe for his oat-paste, raisin, walnut, almond, cinnamon, white chocolate cookies? That meant WAR.
*OPMC
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Seawater-extracted mercury makes good egg paint . . .
*egg
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Sometimes stereotypes are too easy to pass up . . .
*egg
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Revision:
Ed had a ‘universe stone’ but didn’t believe that it made a loud bang, accompanied with a flash. He put it under the high-powered lens plate . . .
* nonstd : No standard body parts, and not much in the way of standard categories–there ARE no nonstandard patterns, for example . . .
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“Hey, you forgot to pay for that!” –Mike found out the hard way that he really COULDN’T put down Reality Comics.
*comiccover
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An honest-to-goodness FBI agent? To see Farmer Jenkins? Well he told me he was out of town for a month, but I guess he stayed on account of that thunderclapper strikin’ his barn. Thought I saw his pickup goin’ the night before, but, y’know, now’s I think about it, he prob’ly parked it in the barn to stand on. To help reach, right? He fixed his barn, installed the new sprinklers, painted everything all in a WEEK, if y’ can believe that. –What? No, I cain’t read your badge, son; broke ma glasses last year. I just string beans and sets here while the family comes and goes. Yessir, I saw ol’ Jenkins out there finishin’ up somethin’ coupla days ago. All that work musta done him in. Clothes don’t fit him right anymore. Walks stiff too.
I tell ya what, his tomatoes grew up real fast–odd shade of green, though. And eight foot tall vines if I’m six. That’s right!
*OPMC
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B movie about a decade from now. A wannabe porn producer goes out on a boat with a shark-hunting enthusiast. They shoot, they score, they are set upon by what lies beneath. Bieber shows some acting talent as he is repeatedly mauled. Gauss’ debut is memorable, if not wonderful. Nino Banderas directorial debut surely got her grounded, but made her family some money in the straight-to-video aftermarket.
*MoviePoster
Thanx! I frequently don’t add a new post these days, just add on to others. That one didn’t appeal to the judge enough or I broke a submission rule somehow. It was fun to figure out that move, even if I overstretched a
tentauh, leg.Moving on!
Jimmy went a bit Machiavellian with the science fair.
*OPMC
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This one I had trouble with exporting and repeated crashes, so didn’t complete in time for the secret identity contest. Still not happy with it. Needs work.
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In the Egyptian way of thinking, reincarnation as a lower species could be a punishment. So . . . who was punishing the WHOLE EGYPTIAN PANTHEON BY SWAPPING OUT THEIR HEADS FOR ANIMAL HEADS? For that matter, what were the heads used for? The only quality dead human heads have differently than most animal species is that they’re ROUNDER.
Examine plate 467A for the answer.
*Winners
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