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retrospective ¶

     I once had a website named treedragon a few years ago, in which I sometimes wrote fiction: primarily to amuse myself, but also to try out variations in format to see what worked well. This page quotes a few stories to show you some history of the format I once used.

     Some bits may read poorly because I pushed limits of hyper brevity to see how little I could get away with saying and still get a comprehensible result. I experimented with an idea readers "fill in the blanks" a lot, effectively helping me write a story by closing gaps I created.

     In particular, my attempt to write entire stories composed of single lines of around ten words or so — without line wrap — forced me to cut corners that probably reduced clarity unless you worked with me a little. I won't be doing anything like that elsewhere on this site.

expectations ¶

     Try not to expect much: this page isn't very interesting. And there's a fair amount of language that would get an R rating in movies (since you can only use the f word once). The writing is amateurish, and content is pedestrian. Once you get past the stanza format, very little novelty remains. I had fun writing it years ago, and it beats a lot of boring blog fare, but it's not exactly art and has nothing to do with this site — making it a waste of time except for illustrating use of more than one character in dialog games.

     I was most interested in the effect caused by explaining little while jumping more than one step ahead with high frequency. Once you play into making a story appear by adding continuity yourself, it's easy to see more than is actually present.

     If there's anything you should find interesting, it's that I inferred how to do this from my early 90's research in spatial metaphors and the role of context. Yeah, writing fiction was unit testing my ideas.

The Singularity came for me in my car on the way home.
I hadn't known my radio and CD player was wired for that.
To avoid graduation I kicked in the dashboard with alacrity.
It's not like I listen to compact disks while driving anyway.
So I gained my own driveway without shared mental nirvana.

My Landru guided neighbors came for me on my front lawn.
They never waste time getting to "you are not of the body."
I faked for the street before I heard a single Brother David.
Then I sprinted to my front door while warding the evil eye.
"Call me for the red hour," I shouted and slammed the door.

I found Sir Francis Bacon had came to haunt me in my study.
He was seated at my Mac and poking around in my web site.
"More wacky, less egghead," he suggested smiling brightly.
"Why aren't you ghost writing for somebody?" I muttered.
I saw his time machine had crushed my old stationary cycle.

I stood impatiently while he sat ensconced in my work chair.
Somehow I'm less effective at giving the boot to big thinkers.
I gestured at his new time machine. "Nice phone booth motif."
"I got the idea from some old television shows," he admitted.
I faked like I was going for the machine, but he didn't flinch.

"You damned, dirty apes?" he offered, perhaps as a new topic.
This only drew a weak smile as I reached for my gyroscope.
His grimace reminded me of his perpetual motion experiments.
"I was wondering. Are you considering my offer?" he asked.
I waved gaily about the room. "What, and give up all this?"

Bacon glowed, "Hey, I want you to meet an old buddy."
The toga guy grinned and reached out to shake hands.
"Say hello to Aesop. He's been doing Greek fables."
"Nice to meetcha," said Aesop with this Bronx accent.
I turned to Bacon, "What's with colloquial english?"

"Oh, he's another recruit of mine," Bacon explained.
"In ancient Greece this accent sounds nice and exotic."
"You expect me to buy this toga?" I asked incredulously.
"Okay, yeah, that's from wardrobe," Bacon smoothed.
"I thought it'd add some color, don't get me wrong."

"Coke or beer?" I asked Aesop, and he perked up.
With Aesop raiding the icebox, I buttonholed Bacon.
"What's this about, and make it snappy," I quipped.
Bacon cleared his throat and looked a mite sheepish.
"You said Vex shouted, 'Sour grapes!' last week."

"So this is a literary time travel joke?" I prompted.
Bacon grinned. "Basically, yeah. But very funny.
See, we change the story to use another metaphor."
Aesop came back holding a beer, looking familiar.
Then I got it. "John Belushi in Animal House?"

"Nah, different story," Aesop assured me quickly.
"No, this is about that one fox and the grapes fable."
I tried to interrupt, "Are you a ghost writer, too?"
"Listen," said Aesop, "I can write some other story."
"Then Vex changes his references to the new one."

I peered doubtfully. "That's really not all that funny.
I won't recall the old story either, right?" I asked.
"You just have to get your paradoxes all lined up."
Bacon explained, "And we also have poetic license."
Aesop finished the brew and headed to find another.

Bacon reeks of ozone when fresh from a time machine.
Today he was wearing top hat and frocked coat regalia.
He held some piece of paper he refused to let Vex see.
They had some keep away game in progress, it seemed.
"I have to put it in his hands", Bacon soothed Vex.

I briefly considered gratuitous resistance, then took it.
"You've been served," Bacon whispered as I scanned.
Groan. Lots of over-fancy nineteenth century typography.
I flicked the paper with a finger. "Explain it to me, okay?"
"Hey," Vex barked, "Where can I get threads like that?"

"That's a bill for cultural background," said Bacon.
"You've been drafted for service in the Time Corps."
I rolled my eyes. "What if I just don't show up?"
"Sign me up!" sang Vex. "Take me to the time babes!"
Bacon looked down his nose. "You're not included."

I asked, "What century is this thing from anyway?"
"Oh," Bacon shrugged, "bureaucracy never changes."
I put on a manic look. "I'll need a big time machine."
"Sorry, chap, but they're all standard issue at first."
I decided to repeat myself, "So, what if I don't show?"

Vex stepped on Bacon's toes. Looked like an accident.
Bacon did something subtle and Vex sprawled. Hmm.
Vex retired sulking to a chair as Bacon stared him down.
Then Bacon answered. "No-shows get second notices."
I raised my eyebrows to ask, and then? He was stalling.

Then Bacon asked an odd question that seem unrelated.
"Can you hear it yet?" he asked, cocking hand at ear.
Uh, I didn't like the sound of this at all. "Hear what?"
"The sound of the thinny," he replied slowly and archly.
Ghost stories now maybe. I gestured to say more, faster.

"For you, boundaries between worlds are growing thin."
Definitely ghost stories, sigh. But he looked so serious.
Vex teetered his chair back on two legs, balancing.
I should have looked, because I missed the next part.
Bacon said, "Think fast!" Vex went down with a crash.

kibo vs bacon @
Son1 and Son2 watched Gigan vs Godzilla as we talked.
They always take my time-traveling visitor for granted.
But they never say no to the victorian toys as presents.
I asked Bacon once about his 19th century affectations.
He shrugged and said it was a phase that would pass.

Today the phone booth landed in front, grazing my car.
A neighbor lady's screaming fit ended rather abruptly.
I saw Bacon use a Men in Black flashy thingie on her.
I guess he must have seen the movie. He likes to copy.
I asked if he'd ever used it on me. (Guess his reply.)

Today's interview featured a weird recorder he enabled.
Seems he has to file bureaucratic reports somewhere.
This made him nervous, which puzzled me until later.
I started grilling him finally on how he picked me out.
It seemed to involve search by technology I don't get.

That's when I surprised him with my next reference.
I said, "That reminds me of a usenet guy named Kibo."
Bacon's reaction was swift and amazing. "Shit. Shit!"
He was stabbing at the recorder, maybe to turn if off.
I guess it was too late. I heard major lightning outside.

First Bacon slumped, and then rose with a steely eye.
We both made it out front as another machine arrived.
This manifestation was much noiser than Bacon's.
Crawling lightning made me nervous before and after.
Then a weird craft arrived with a fabulous blue glow.

It didn't resemble Bacon's phone booth in the slightest.
It was like a giant industrial paper origami sculpture.
A bit like an ornithopter made of wire and rice paper.
Except a few incongruous parts added a comical effect.
Best was a bicycle wheel with cards flapping on spokes.

As the wheel slowed, the glow and lightning dissipated.
"Crass Americans," Bacon muttered, looking irritated.
The guy at the helm wore goggles and looked familiar.
Oh yeah, he dressed like Doc from Back to the Future.
He stood and rose his arms in greeting to my neighbors.

"Kibo, you ass," shouted Bacon. "Who invited you?"
"Sir Francis Bacon, I presume!" Kibo replied gleefully.
Kibo looked ecstatic. My neighbors looked alarmed.
Nodding toward them Kibo gibed, "Go get 'em tiger."
Bacon whipped out his flashy thingie and stalked them.

Kibo stuck out his hand asking, "First time we met?"
"Yeah, I think so," I said. "Don't you know for sure?"
"Gets confusing. Maybe I come back earlier later on."
Son1 and Son2 now crowded his craft screaming "Wow!"
I looked over and asked, "Got any toys for my sons?"

But Vex wasn't done yet. "Hey, I gotta question."
"You want me to explain the spoon story?" I asked.
"Stop reading my mind!" Vex barked. "But go ahead."
"What's your specific question? Movie references?"
Vex nodded, "Were you saying there is no spoon?"

"Like The Matrix?" I asked. "That's a bit topical."
Vex nodded eagerly. "Yeah, so did I get it right?"
"No, the silver spoon story is literally true," I said.
"Here's a spoon right here," I added, showing him.
Vex held his head. "Ahh! Stop! Gimme a break."

Somehow the smell wasn't exactly what I expected.
The way Poe kept grinning, I think it was his idea.
It was better, if somewhat musty, in the padded room.
We emptied out all the furniture looking for Jangles.
Then, wouldn't ya know, Vex turned up to bug us.

"Hey, can't you losers simulate a harem someday?"
Poe had a stroke of genius. "Come see this, Vex."
I saw it coming before Vex, and helped corner him.
When his eyes lit on the strait jacket Vex tried to run.
But soon we had him trussed up in the padded cell.

Vex took it very poorly, body slamming the door.
"Get me! ... The fuck! ... Outa here!" he screamed.
I nudged and warned Poe, "Don't get to liking this."
"No, oh no. Just as long as it's funny," Poe agreed.
"Had lunch?" I asked. "It'll stay funny a while yet."

On the way to my study, I asked what I should call him.
"Since it's you..." He thought. "How about Future Boy?"
"Selling subscriptions to Future Boy magazine?" I asked.
He winced. "Point taken. Okay, you can call me Kibo."
"Just don't call me tiger," I said. "Sure, Ace," he replied.

Kibo gave Son1 and Son2 a pair of miniature ornithopters.
They actually seemed to fly. Maybe a kind of antigravity?
Then Kibo mentioned my invention earlier, after my fall.
I bumped my head, then dreamed up the reflux capacitor.
"Yes," said Kibo, "It's what makes time travel possible."

"Get outa town," I waved. "Me? I invented time travel?"
"Yep, that's why we all itch to sign you up," he exlained.
"No way, dude!" I threw back. "You're shittin' me, right?"
"Yes, I'm shittin' you," he nodded. "Want your leg back?"
"You scum, what a dirty trick," I whined, partly in relief.

Kibo was still laughing, "We pull that one on everybody."
"So, then why didn't Bacon try that on me?" I wondered.
"He's kinda stiff," Kibo noted. "Know how old he is?"
He continued, "I mean, I'm still alive myself in this era."
"I wondered how that worked," I mused. "16th century?"

Kibo confirmed, "Apparently. If everything's kosher."
"What, is he some time travel changeling?" I suggested.
"Only his hair dresser knows for sure," Kibo sighed.
I had an idea. "Say Kibo, how old are you, anyway?"
"Out of bounds, Ace. Can't answer until you sign up."

Just then, a heavy presence at the door drew our eyes.
It was Bacon of course, locking an odd gaze on Kibo.
"Man, don't pull that Svengali stuff," Kibo complained.
" 'Stupid dog, you make me look bad,' " Bacon quoted.
"Hey, still got all your Magic cards?" Kibo asked him.

It started with his asking me how I do that one throw.
I stopped typing to reply. "Which do you mean, Vex?"
"You know, the one where they don't see it coming."
I gently disagreed, "No, they usually see it coming."
"Well," Vex tried again, "How do you do it so fast?"

"Okay, pull my finger," I told Vex, and he complied.
Suddenly Vex sailed across the room, through a table.
"There! There!" he pounced up screaming. "You see!"
I grinned and prompted, "What part should I explain?"
"Where'd you get that momentum? I wasn't moving."

"You're always moving," I said. "Stillness is illusion."
"Don't give me any Zen crap! I'm gonna kick your butt."
So I threw him across the room again before he blinked.
"That hurt a bit more," Vex observed. "Was it my tone?"
I nodded. "Ugly tone helps. You almost throw yourself."

Vex sighed, "Dang, virtual physics really confuses me."
"It's simple," I said. "You pick a good reference frame."
"Can you reduce it to a conservation law?" he begged.
"Almost," I mused. "Most contact is bilateral exposure."
"What?" Vex snarled. "Speak in English you big dork."

This time he bounced off two walls before crash landing.
I simplified by saying, "If you touch me, I touch you."
He look puzzled, "But how do I go flying so effing fast?"
"It mainly works when you have it coming," I explained.
Vex rubbed his sore chin. "So it's partly a karma thing?"

"Yeah, sorta," I agreed. "But it also helps to be funny."
He snorted. "Criminy, like when I pulled your finger?"
"Yep," I confirmed. "Here, now try paper scissors rock."
We bounced fists three times, Vex's paper to my rock.
Vex grinned in victory, but I threw him again anyway.

who's afraid of virginia wolf? @
Liz is named after Taylor in this movie with Burton.
Not because Liz is like Elizabeth Taylor's character.
But because Liz occasionally pretends she's like that.
Poe's gal Liz is actually a dead ringer for Lana Turner.
Still, it's funny whenever she hollers, "I don't bray!"

(For convention's sake, her name has only 3 letters.)
Liz plays different characters whenever it's convenient.
She changes tone constantly to tease more effectively.
Lately she likes playing a sultry 1940's femme fatale.
And she's good at it. But even worse, she knows it.

Sometimes her act almost devolves into pure Mae West.
Poe recently imitated David Warner when he told her:
"You are so mercifully free of the ravages of morals."
Of course, that's what Poe prefers since he dates her.
In case you wonder, here's the Time Bandits quote:

"Oh, Benson, dear Benson, you are so mercifully free of the ravages of intelligence." - Time Bandits

So everybody stops looking, missing the nightly changes.
All that free fortune telling is going completely to waste.
You get personal constellation service when you notice.
Does the sky show these nice line drawings to you, too?
I admit surprise the first time it showed me Spy vs Spy.

Tonight I looked up to see The Maltese Falcon nearby.
Maybe my private eye business is going to pick up soon.
It was bracketed by one usual and one new constellation.
The old one was Ezekial's Wheel, but I always see that.
My blood stirred at the sight of... what? Gangster Moll?

caesar made the salad @
As a high school senior I did Midsummer Night's Dream.
It was a one-time-only, special project in English class.
This was in the humor unit, and we were given freedom.
Five acts were divvied up among five groups in the class.
I snarfed the last act, recruiting my loony class cronies.

I rewrote the beginning of the fifth act to add new gags.
I ignored the original and just made up some silly ideas.
One of them involved eating in a group around a table.
The salad was awful, so we asked, "Who made the salad?"
Brutus said Caesar made the salad. So we killed Caesar.

There was more nonsense, but my script was unfinished.
Apparently we planned to just wing something after that.
They taped the performance. The first 4 acts were awful.
Then my crew did the fifth act, and we knocked 'em dead.
When my script ran out, bizarre improvisation followed.

The audience screamed with laughter. It was a success.
They showed the tape to other classes to equal acclaim.
My English teachers tried to find out what was so funny.
Analysis helped little, but all the audiences laughed hard.
I think it was the equal mixes of familiar and very weird.

dimension of imagination @
Vex was a bit sore about the beating I gave him yesterday.
"You know, I have friends," he warned, "Lots of friends."
"Yeah, and are some of your friends Vulcans?" I jeered.
"Worse," Vex bragged, "Some of my friends are dead."
"And that's because you died in the black plague, right?"

"Well, don't I look like a dead guy?" Vex asked.

"Yeah, but could this not be a hygiene problem?" I asked.
Vex glowered and warned, "Don't get flip with me, Ged."
"Okay, I'm sorry I threw you that last time. Feel better?"
"Too late for an apology," Vex said. "It's aleady done."
I wondered, "What? Mugsy and Bruno break my knees?"

"Better," Vex grinned. "Rod Serling sends you on a trip."
I snapped my fingers, singing, "Into another dimension!"
"This is punishment," Vex leered. "Don't pretend it's fun."
"Oh sure," I said seriously. "I'm so scared shitless here."
Vex frowned at me, "Don't make me do Frank Gorshin."

"Okay, what do I need to do?" I asked. "Where's Serling?"
"We need no cooperation!" Vex shrilled. "He'll call you."
"On the phone?" I asked. "So lame. No clinking chains?"
"Okay, tough guy!" Vex huffed. "Just you wait and see."
"Do me!" I volunteered. "Shoot me into the twilight zone!"

Vex stormed out, slamming doors. Then the phone rang.
Good, I thought, I won't have to wait for a commercial.
Should I take a leak first? Nah, I'll just answer right now.
I picked it up saying, "Pizza Hut. Can I take your order?"
Silence, and then the magic voice of Rod Serling flowed.

Rod Serling: There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, ...

...and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone.

"How about Fiji?" I offered. "Truman wants to go there."
"You lost me," Rod said. "You're going to the 1940's."
"Rod, I need a big favor. There's gotta be some dames."
"Well," Rod mused, "I recall they had some dames then."
"Fine. Suit me up. Fire away. Blastoff. Push the button."

Rod sighed. "You're gonna ace this game, aren't you?"
"I hope not," I begged. "Please, can you make it hard?"
"Well, it's pre-programmed," He mused. "Probably not."
"But will I still be me when I get there?" I asked him.
"Pretty much, in this scenario. This one's a bit vanilla."

"So, can I go back later for some weirder ones?" I asked.
"Sure," he brightened. "Wanna test pilot my new ones?"
"Where do I sign up?" I asked. "Pleasure doing business."
"Alrighty, I'm ready to send you off. Any last words?"
"Will it hurt?" I asked. "I'm still a virgin." Rod chuckled.

And it did hurt, sorta. Like turning quickly inside out.
The walls shimmered, and the phone changed it's shape.
The phone was suddenly a black bakelite desktop model.
I hung up the phone, and then it rang again immediately.
"Damn, I really need to use the john," I muttered bleakly.

come up and see me sometime @
I paused to think of a joke, then picked up the receiver.
"Scully? Mulder? Is that you?" I asked my unseen caller.
"No, guess again, sugar," she replied in a lovely voice.
A familiar voice... ah, this is Poe's girlfriend Liz, yeah.
Am I hard-boiled? What would Robert Mitchum say?

I spied a clock. "Liz, why are you calling at this hour?"
"I hoped you'd be friendly," she purred. "It's still early."
"Sure, doll," I encouraged. "What do you have in mind?"
"Maybe a movie," she pondered. "Come over for a drink?"
"Won't Poe crush my skull with a pipe if he catches me?"

"Poe?" she asked in wonder. "I haven't seen him in ages."
Okay, so what do I do now? And what year is it anyway?
What if only this room has changed? So, I'll play along.
"What show do you want to see?" I asked. In what year?
"We'll decide after ... you get here, honey," she countered.

"Liz, if you honey me again, my reactor will melt down."
"What?" she asked, totally puzzled. "Are you drinking?"
"Only if you are, sweetheart," in my Humphrey Bogart.
"Okay, buster, you got ten minutes to get here," she said.
It's hard to describe her interesting tone of voice. Hmm.

"Gimme your address again," I said before she hung up.
"Why not look it up in your little black book?" she asked.
I gave up. "Have I been sleeping with you, Liz?" I asked.
Her response didn't help a bit. She just laughed slowly.
I memorized her address. "What are you wearing, Liz?"

"Come over and find out," was all she said before a click.
I tried not to break an ankle running down to the street.
I had enough time to wonder if I was being a total putz.
But not enough time to consider a better plan than this.
It was shocking outside. Good god. 1940's everywhere.

Naturally, since Rod Serling is no slouch. Too easy so far.
Let's see, gorgeous babe asks me right over to her place.
Several twists come to mind. Most of them not much fun.
The taxi got me to her curb before the deadline ran out.
I searched all my pockets. (Hey, nice suit.) But no guns.

Liz answered her door, and hot diggety dog. Shazzam!
My eyes hurt from trying to pop right out of my noggin.
Damn, she looked good. I managed to use a normal voice.
(But Jim Carey's wolf routine from The Mask works.)
Cary Grant? "Liz, you look simply smashing, my dear."

"I found a show, but I need a wrap," she said. "Come in."
I followed her inside, and tried to keep using my eyes.
At a desk in her living room, the surprise was waiting.

Poe was sitting there smiling, with a pistol pointed at me.
"Sit down over there," Poe waved at a chair with his gun.

I looked chagrined over at Liz, and she smiled sweetly.
"Don't worry, Liz," I told her, "I'll buy new curtains."
She laughed and observed, "You say the oddest things."
"Do you still want to go to the movie or not?" I asked.
Liz giggled, "Sure, I'll be in front. Winner's my date."

"Sit and shut up," Poe prompted, waggling the pistol.
Liz got her wrap, and left as I took my seat before Poe.
"Are you thinking about shooting me, Poe?" I asked him.
"I'm always thinking of shooting you, Ged," he replied.
"But first," he continued, "I need you to do something."

"Why should I do it if you'll shoot me anyway?" I asked.
"Let's discuss that next." he said. "But first, my money."
"Do I owe you money, Poe?" I marveled. "How much?"
He ignored this. "How long did you work for me, Ged?"
"Far too long, Poe," I sighed. "You were such a thief."

"And all that time," Poe labored, "you held out on me."
"You got what was fair," I said, "What's the problem?"
"The problem," he explained, "Is all your fine ideas since."
"I want to own them," Poe added. "Sign them over to me."
"Piss up a rope," I offered. "That's enough of this farce."

Poe raised his eyebrows. "Hey, I'm the guy with a gun."
"That won't help," I warned him. "I have a date with Liz."
"Do you have any last words before I shoot you?" he said.
"Yes, if you pull the trigger I guarantee you'll be sorry."
Poe seemed genuinely puzzled. "Did you finally go nuts?"

"I'm writing this story," I explained, "so I'm in control."
"Are you sure you won't sign the papers before I shoot?"
"No, but I think I might speak my mind first," I mused.
"You're second rate pin prick with a big mouth," I added.
Poe smiled grimly. "I'm not really sorry to see you go."

Liz was outside looking at the windows when it happened.
Two bright muzzle flashes accompanied two loud gunshots.
Then Poe came smashing through the shattering windows.
Poe's body caught and tore away curtains on the way out.
Ged appeared at the window calling, "Hey, ready to go?"

After Liz finished chasing me for vengeance, I found Poe.
"Poe, you really blew the gangster bit," I told him sadly.
"Next time," Poe noodled, "I think I need a tommy gun."
"No, not bigger guns," I said. "You need a bigger style."
"Huh? No one has bigger style than me," Poe retorted.

"I beg to differ," I persisted. "Ah, Edward G. Robinson?"
"Oh yeah, yeah," Poe was getting it. "The big guy, see."
"Yeah, see," I ran. "Ya gotta be big, see. M'yah, m'yah."
Poe took it. "Okay, Ged. I gotta shoot ya, see. M'yah."
I grimaced politely, and said he could work on it more.

"What the hell happened to web site stuff?" Poe asked.
I looked sheepish. "I lost it in my improv Serling banter."
"Thank god you actually make mistakes," Poe groused.
I nodded. "Yeah, I accidentally did a full 1940's shot."
"Right," Poe recalled. "You planned a pseudo 1940's."

I continued, "So you couldn't know about my website."
"Yeah, I needed to read your recent stuff," Poe agreed.
I was glum. "So the full attack kinda fell flat too soon."
"Next time, right?" Poe said. "Next time I won't miss."
I aimed my finger at him fanned my thumb as a hammer.

A couple guys in fedoras put press cards in their hat brims.
Doc Brown tends the infonaut and reads the dials 'n stuff.
Vex pushes back his hat and nudges Poe hard in the elbow.
"Think he's gonna Cronenberg?" Vex asks. "I need a story."
"Nah," Poe shrugs. "He's faking this. Old introvert stuff."

"Why don't he say sumpin'?" Vex asks. "Is he a dummy?"
"Try to understand," Poe explains. "Introverts are balloons."
"Big red ones?" Vex asks, "Or cute ones with stuff inside?"
"Idiot!" Poe replied. "I mean they fill with air, and squeak."
"Squeak?" Vex puzzled. "Like when air comes back out?"

"Exactly," Poe nodded. "If you stretch the opening tight?"
"Ah," Vex got it. "When squeezing choked air back out!"
"Yeah," Poe looked bland. "The technical term is SQUEE."
"Introverts," Poe went on, "send messages in squee code."
"Oh," Vex said, "Betcha this one says SEND MORE PIZZA."

The subject started rousing, and Doc Brown got all excited.
"Stand back!" Doc shouted. "This might be intelligible!"
The subject sat bolt upright, his face writhing in wonder.
"It's beautiful!" he screamed. "Oh god, it sooo beautiful!"
Doc Brown whooped and started high fiving assistants.

Then the dial needles all suddenly pegged into danger zones.
The subject started to wail, and Doc began urgently cursing.
"Help me!" the subject screamed. "Elder Gods are coming!"
"Unhook him before he loses all sanity points!" Doc yelled.
Technicians swarmed over the subject to save him in time.

"Is this good, Poe?" Vex asked. "Is he gonna blow now?"
Poe nodded. "This is excellent if he really loses all points."
Poe readied his camera. "I've seen it once or twice already."
"Will he splash?" Vex asked. "Can I move in a little closer?"
"Don't get too near," Poe warned. "And don't pull fingers."

reincarnation of peter proud @
"Hey, it was eight months, and not seven," Vex needled me.
"Eight months after what?" I asked. "Since you got laid?"
"Nope," Vex said. "Between Cabell's death and your birth."
"So what's your point?" I asked. "Seven, eight, whatever."
"Eight's the magic number! Each fetus ripens at one month."

"Ripens for what?" I waved a hand. "Sounds like a crock."
"For reincarnation, stupid," Vex jibed. "Poe told me this."
"Where's Poe, anyway?" I sighed. "Writing morbid poems?"
Vex picked his nose. "Out varnishing the truth somewhere."
"Must you do that in here?" I winced. "Need an icepick?"

"No thanks," Vex perked. "So how do you feel about this?"
I rattled my newspaper at him as a clue. "Feel about what?"
Vex pushed in his lip to imitate Carey's Fire Marshall Bill.
"Let me tell you something!" Vex barked in perfect delivery.
"You're the reincarnation of a loser!" Vex chortled in joy.

"He was no loser," I mulled. "You just never heard of him."
"My point exactly!" Vex relished. "In my book, a big loser."
I rubbed my eyes. "Besides, I don't fancy myself a writer."
"Cause you never tried. Thus a loser; consistent loserdom."
"I'm not a losing writer!" I shouted. "Losing hacker maybe."

"Hey, I forgot to say," Vex chirped. "Poe says you're on."
I dropped my paper and beamed, "Yes? Then he accepts?"
"Yep," Vex nodded. "He'll fight for WORLD DOMINATION."
"Has he chosen weapons, yet?" I asked eagerly. "Magic?"
"Probably," Vex agreed. "But he wants to psych you out."

I had a sudden idea. "Hey Vex, who do you reincarnate?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Vex asked. "Genghis Kahn, of course!"
"I see a barbarian similarity," I said. "Why are you dead?"
"I mean, why not reincarnate and raze more?" I asked him.
"Penalty box." Vex explained. "But just ... you ... wait!"

"Really," I swallowed my laughter. "Is that hard for you?"
"Nah, but I'm boning to be Poe's second," he explained.
"Second in what?" I asked. "In my duel with Poe today?"
"Yeah!" Vex was eager. "If magic fails, I drop the bomb."
I blinked. "Need a book for that? What are you reading?"

"King's The Shining, see?" Vex showed me the cover.
Now I was grinning. "Watch the press, Vex, she creeps!"
Vex nodded, "Heh. Now I'm dying to reach the best part."
"And that would be?" I prompted. "The scary topiary?"
"No!" he barked. "It's 'Wendy! Gimme the bat, Wendy!' "

"Ah, Vex" I broke it gently. "That's not in King's novel."
"What?!" Vex was floored. "Kubrick just made that up?"
"Fraid so," I nodded. "But there's other good stuff, too."
"Argh!" In Vex's anger, his gloved hand left his control.
Poe made his entrance as Vex's wheelchair veered about.

One side of the room blew away into a weird dimension.
Poe floated in, cape flapping, hands glowing in nimbus.
I had to grin in admiration; Poe's Dr. Strange was terrific.
"Did you guys coordinate outfits, or what?" I asked Poe.
"Say 'go' Vex!" Poe shouted. "I can't hold this spell!"

"Poe, before we start, let's discuss the rules," I insisted.
"Get back!" Poe snarled at me. "I'm not falling for that."
"Okay, hold while I get my magus gear and ouija board."
I changed costume and watched from a corner of my eye.
Poe missed me with a bolt of energy that nearly fried Vex.

Vex screamed, "Watch where you point that damn thing!"
"What deck are you playing, Poe?" I asked. "Black again?"
"Come and find out!" Poe jeered. "This time I'll waste ya."
I set out the ouija board we always play our games upon.
The I grabbed my new deck, an odd weenie hordes design.

let's do the time warp again @
Poe always thinks he can make a faster deck than mine.
But Poe doesn't really get Magic cards, not down deep.
So I was pretty sure he was going down in flames again.
When I played HOWLING MINES he just laughed in thanks.
"Thanks for the extra card, Ged!" Poe sneered. I grinned.

Then on turn three I played TIMETWISTER and TIMEWALK.
I played another BLACK VICE; Poe screamed at KIRD APES.
After I dropped WINTER ORB Poe started looking resigned.
I recalled TIMETWISTER from my graveyard, and he gaped.
"It's your damned time traveling friends again!" Poe cried.

     Note stories from my old treedragon website freely use first person "I" in stories, not following a first-person rule on the background page explaining conventions. The "I" in stories on this page refer to a character named Ged, who often loosely represented myself with a twist, but this was mostly tongue in cheek.

     I won't rewrite the stories to remove use of first person pronouns, okay? Show me you can cope.

gratuitous sex and violence @
James Bond banters with a new Q in Never Say Never.
Q has a funny reaction to James jetting to the tropics.
"Lucky, bloody, you," says Q with sniffles from a cold.
In the scene, Q breaks format and discusses Bond motif:
"We can depend on you for gratuitous sex and violence."

I was telling Vex this was part of the next story's plan.
"I knew Bond," sneered Vex, "And you're no Bond."
I scratched my head. "James Bond was not real, Vex."
"What's your point?" Vex snapped, giving me the eye.
So I offered, "And thankfully, Liz is no Kim Basinger."

"You think that Basinger gal is kinda dumb?" Vex asked.
"Yep, I do," I confirmed. "And that just kills it for me."
Vex nudged me. "How about that wicked Fatima Blush?"
"The stunning brunette in the Bond movie?" I asked him.
Vex fished, "Shall I tell Liz to do her nurse dominatrix?"

I bolted upright, "No, no! That's not necessary. Whoa."
Vex cackled, "She might get all medieval on your ass."
"I can just imagine," I winced. "Can we stick to sexpot?"
"Ask her agent," Vex shrugged. "She's still kinda mad."
"About dating in the 1940's?" I asked. "I wasn't so bad."

"Think Poe bugged your phone again?" Vex asked me.
"Constantly," I sighed. "Either that or a new spy ray."
"Just hex it," Vex offered, manually wiggling his nose.
"You aren't supposed to know about it," I glared at him.
Vex clasped hands behind his head. "Whatever, man."

"So, did Dukenfield say he'd do it?" I asked Vex nicely.
"He's thinkin about it," Vex slyly temporized. "Okay?"
"Well, get him into my office, so I can pitch it," I said.
"Sure, and I'll tell Liz to come over, too," Vex smiled.
I pointed my finger at Vex. "No guns this time, right?"

If you're a geek, or bright otherwise, you'll love this.
And if you do, you'll find it hard not to seek out more.
Note this entire tiny short story is under 350 lines long.
This is a crisp and powerful 1961 science fiction classic.
You've time to read it in a few minutes, and fall in love.

I was shocked to discover how short it was, days ago.
The impact it had on my memory is out of all proportion.
You should ask yourself, how does someone do that?
(Then you might ask, why did anyone make it a movie?)
(There's enough for only 10 minutes; were they insane?)

You don't read Kurt Vonnegut to make yourself happy.
Instead you read him to awaken ideas you had sleeping.
These sleeping ideas are ones you don't want that way.
Civilization has a way of making you cozy and sleepy.
Then atrocities can happen with your nose in your beer.

The other blinked the neon outline of a Dance Stripper.
Right. Sometimes I suspect the night sky pulls my leg.
New motion in a corner of my eye made my skin crawl.
Did that snake move? Is it stalking me? Shades of King.
Wow, the snake is swallowing a man whole, head first.

dimension of mind @
Out in the real world, the moon was nearly full tonight.
But here near the twilight zone, the moon was a sliver.
Rod Serling got me an office to use, as a test pilot perk.
I looked forward to the big zone shot Rod planned soon.
In the meantime, Rod let me use my predecessor's office.

Rod warned me, "You'll see some weird shit happening."
"Cause we're close to the twilight zone here?" I guessed.
"Ding ding ding!" Rod sang. "It bleeds into your office."
"Then, can I use my latent superpowers here?" I mused.
Rod laughed. "Knock yourself out. Don't destroy stuff."

That was last week; now I let myself in my office alone.
Instead of using a key, I practiced this new trick of mine.
I saw tumblers in the lock, then turned them in my mind.
The lock clicked and the bolt slid clear to open the door.
Cool! Now if only I can do that using less concentration.

moneypenny for your thoughts @
Miss Moneypenny wasn't at her desk again on my way.
Since I hired her on, I seldom see her much in the flesh.
But as soon as I reach my desk, she'll use the intercom.
She's holding out for more money in the later episodes.
I often call her Pen, but she always calls me "Sir." Grrr.

She was very personable in the interview. Rod sent her.
"Moneypenny's tops," Rod said. "Pen knows the ropes."
"Plus," he noted, "she can remember the safe's combo."
I thought she'd be English, but no. Maybe a New Yorker.
Pen does this perfect Annie Potts nasal monotone voice.

I'd swear I'm in Ghost Busters when I hear her voice.
Pen has an odd sense of humor I can't figured out yet.
I asked if I could call her Pen, and she deadpanned this:
"Sir, I need a sidekick named Teller who says nothing."
I started laughing, but she walked away without notice.

"Pen, what happened to my predecessor," I asked once.
"Sir, you don't want to know," she said. "Trust me."
"Yes I do," I volleyed. "You just want to spook me."
"Oh sir," she droned, "I'd never scare a guy like you."
"Okay, what happened?" I asked. "Pen? Earth to Pen."

boink boink boink @
Pen's not shy about expressing herself. Goodness no.
But sometimes her vocabulary loses me. Like recently.
She said a widow client needed a detective investigator.
"Are we running a detective agency as a cover?" I asked.
Pen's look said that was dumb. "Of course we are, sir."

"The widow's a babe," Pen said. "Will you boink her?"
"Boink?" I asked. "Is that a Moonlighting euphemism?"
"Sir, boink is my favorite delicate euphemism for fuck."
I avoided spraying coffee out my nose. She didn't laugh.
I explained, "Bruce Willis's David Addison uses that."

No reply. "Is a Blue Moon detective agency near here?"
Pen was bored. "Sir, I wouldn't know. Does it matter?"
I tried to cover my awkwardness with more explanation.
"See," I said, "Addison tormented Maddy by saying it."
Pen turned about her appointment book and showed me.

"Do I put you down for boink or no boink?" she asked.
"Christ, Pen," I objected, "I haven't even met the lady."
"You've met me," she said. "Wanna boink in your office?"
"Pen! I can never tell when you're joking. Have mercy."
"Sir, I never joke about boinking," She replied deadpan.

I could feel a flush creep over my face. Dang, not cool.
Then Pen flashed a smile, "Sir, should I tickle you first?"
"I'm not ticklish...," I started, then knew I screwed up.
"Right," Pen said abruptly. "Rain check. Catcha later."
As she walked away the air suddenly seemed a bit chilly.

on a clear day @
When I reached my office I knew this was a big night.
Immediately I found and disabled Poe's new phone bug.
(Are you going to confuse Pen's name and Poe's? Nah.)
For a second I thought Poe would call then, right away.
Poe has my direct line number. Moneypenny buzzed me.

Her nasal tone sounded tinny over an ancient intercom.
This whole room was a small museum of movie clichés.
Pen said, "Sir, the Duke says he'll be over this evening."
"Excellent," I chirped. "Did you hide when I came in?"
"I was installing man traps in odd corners," she replied.

"Pen," I hesitated. "I'm very sorry about the other day."
"Sir, I can see you midnight tonight, my place," she said.
I managed, "Pen, ah, when will you stop calling me sir?"
"After we've been intimate, sir. Can we use your office?"
I begged, "Pen, I need to see the Duke. Let's talk later."

"Sir, you get full points for failing to answer; fine job."
I ignored this, adding, "Buzz me when the Duke arrives."
"I'll be busy thinking of another pet name," she rung off.
Then I had several whole seconds to gain my composure.
I knew Poe was calling, so I answered it before it rang.

Poe's voice caught, huskily, "I hate when you do that."
"Poe, your voice sounds funny," I said. "Are you well?"
He chuckled, again in control. "Found my new bug, eh?"
"Easy peesy," I agreed. "How's your death ray coming?"
"What death ray??" he asked, and then cursed at his slip.

"Just checking to be sure," I sang, not too arrogantly.
Poe snarled, "I'm actually calling you tonight about Liz."
"Such as," I guessed, "don't touch her or you'll kill me?"
"Exactly," he agreed with malice. "Don't ever cross me."
Was he serious? "Not even a few stakes in your heart?"

But vampire jokes bore Poe. "Ged, watch out for Liz."
"She's scary now," he continued. "It's the new moon."
I was leery. "Poe, I thought full moons were trouble."
"Ged, even I don't go near Liz in a new moon," he said.
"So, is she more fun than a blockbuster movie?" I asked.

"You have no idea," Poe whispered, and then hung up.
Interesting. Poe really managed to work up my curiosity.
If Liz shows up, what do I do? Run, or watch the show?
The intercom buzzed. Figures. It was Moneypenny again.
"Sir, there's a brazen hussy here to see you," Pen sniped.

ready to rumble @
Okay, the Duke's not a hussy. "Is it Liz?" I asked Pen.
"Yes sir, or someone very similar," the intercom agreed.
"Can't you recognize her after three days, Pen?" I asked.
"Sir, the fetish bombshell look throws me," Pen replied.
Liz's voice called out, "Let me in, little pig, little pig."

I drummed my fingers. "Pen, should I let her come in?"
"Sir, I'd say so, but I'd like to come in too, and watch."
Too near the twilight zone? "Why's that, Pen?" I asked.
Pen giggled. "Sir, I want to see when your head pops."
No respect; why does she call me sir? Don't answer that.

"Send Liz in alone, and call me when the Duke arrives."
"Wait, wait," I interrupted. "Pen, check for weapons."
Pen said she was checking her purse. A burst of laughter.
"Is that what I think it is?" Pen's voice asked in wonder.
That sounds interesting. "What? What is it?" I requested.

"Sir," Pen said in awe, "She's got a glowing red rock."
Gotta be kidding. "Throw it in the lead safe," I said.
"Done," Pen reported. "Okay sir, she's on the way."
I tried to mentally prepare myself, having a vague idea.
Liz does glamour rather than grunge. It'll just be more.

I was wrong. Pen's estimate of my reaction was right.
Liz knocked me for a loop as she came through the door.
She was doing glamour taken to some strange territory.
"Close your mouth," Liz told me, "or you'll catch flies."
I squeaked, "Liz, you look very Jekyll & Hyde tonight."

Liz posed briefly in high style, clashing with her looks.
But her eyes never lost that hungry look, boring into me.
"Does this door lock?" Liz asked, and then turned a bolt.
My heart fluttered as she slowly approached and closed.
I had time to pick out elements of this style she'd used.

A 50's bombshell, plus equal parts hooker and vampire.
Hard to say; kind of dominatrix in a weird sex kitten vein.
Her dangly ruby earrings matched a shine of glossy lips.
I was gonna kill Vex if I found he'd had a finger in this.
The tension was building, so I joked to change the mood.

"Do you expect me to talk?" I said in my Sean Connery.
She laughed. "No, Mister Bond, I expect you to die."
"So do you have a giant laser under that skirt?" I asked.
"Like it?" Liz asked. "There's nothing under this skirt."
I almost gnawed my knuckles. Good grief, I was losing.

Liz unslung her purse and rounded the end of my desk.
My legs felt much too rubbery to get up and run away.
"Uh, are you thinking about boinking me, Liz?" I asked.
"I'm always thinking of boinking you, Ged," Liz said.
"But first," Liz continued. "I need you to do something."

"Do you have some papers for me to sign?" I suggested.
She blew me a kiss. "No, it's much kinkier than that."
A silhouette of Vex in the wall broke her concentration.
It was freshly plastered over. Shades of Roger Rabbit.
I still wondered how I'd tell Rod Serling about it later.

Liz snapped her attention back to me, looking fiendish.
"In high school, I loved to tease geeks," Liz explained.
"No kidding Liz," I said. "I always meant to ask you."
"Now I'll show you my best. I need to sit in your lap."
"Is it pattycake, like Jessica in Roger Rabbit?" I asked.

"Running a survey?" I asked. "What happened to him?"
"I beat him up and took all of his stuff," Vex explained.
"Of course," I said. "That should have been obvious."
Vex beamed. "I wanted to give you grievances myself."
"Okay shoot," I said. "Is that a list on the clipboard?"

"Bingo!" Vex grinned. "I'll just take 'em in order, eh?"
"I can already tell you I don't care," I warned him first.
"Hey, man!" Vex hollered. "Vigilante Justice Rules!"
"Well, I didn't expect the Spanish Inquisition," I said.
"Don't start that one now!" Vex wailed. "I'm rolling."

I rolled my eyes and waited for him to refind his place.
He cleared his throat. "First there's your page title here."
"You need a new suitable tagline, okay?" Vex explained.
"They suggested, 'What the hell's this guy's problem?'"
"Rejected," I said. "But that's funny. Please continue."

"Next," Vex added. "Yer late paying your guild dues."
"Some fancy weblog guild?" I asked. "Fuck the guild."
"I knew you'd say that," Vex said. "Not too friendly."
"Why must I be more friendly?" I asked. "Networking?"
"You got a reverse psychology problem," Vex observed.

I almost said no I don't, but I stopped myself in time.
He read my face and grinned. "So, need an example?"
"Okay," I agreed, "it's how Poe and Liz suckered me."
"You'd jump in a river if I told you not to," Vex said.
Avoiding simple denial, I asked, "And why would I?"

"I'd say," Vex offered, "nobody sane jumps in a river."
I grinned. "It's so tempting when you put it that way."
Vex pointed his pencil at me. "You need to get a grip."
I frowned. This was less fun than I expected. "Go on."
"So, be unpredictable less predictably," Vex suggested.

"Okay, what's next?" Vex flipped his clipboard. "Ah."
He read, "'Why can't you stick to one damn subject?'"
I sighed, "Is this a pigeonhole thing? Being consistent?"
"Of course, stupid!" he frothed. "What ghetto is home?"
"You mean," I asked, "tech ghetto vs other ghettoes?"

"Yeah, pick sides!" Vex insisted. "Join and assimilate!"
"You know I hate Borg logic," I replied. "Try harder."
"Yeah, I was just trying to rile you up," Vex grinned.
"Kurt Vonnegut hated science fiction ghettoes," I noted.
"Didya think self-publication is ghetto free?" Vex asked.

I muttered, "Everywhere you go, someone hounds you."
"A place for everything," Vex echoed, "And vice versa!"
"But it sucks," I objected. "Leave me off the program."
"Pointing at stuff is hard without segregation," Vex said.
I complained, "That just reinforces the old world view."

"You hate that?" Vex asked. "Propping up a status quo?"
"Yes," I agreed. "I'm not needed to repeat the old shit."
"You think maybe he needs to see a doctor" he mocked.
I looked at him. "You're drifting into The Shining Vex."
"I knew that!" He snapped. "Jack says the line perfectly."

"Vex!" I clapped hands. "Attention span. Stay with me."
"Yeah!" Vex adjusted his glasses. "The next list item."
"You're a commie, pinko spy," He read. "Skip that one."
The next one was, "We liked your earlier funny movies."
"Skip it," I said. "That's just an old Woody Allen joke."

"Hey, I gotta question about the cast party," Vex said.
"What were you and Liz doing in the john?" he asked.
"None of your business," I snapped, but grinned at him.
Vex bit his lip, but thought better of prying any further.
"I'll skip the other questions here like that," he sighed.

"The last two," Vex said. "You know what they are?"
"Yeah," I said. "When do I finish IronDoc and Mithril?"
"Exactly," Vex confirmed. "No good answer for that?"
"Five more minutes?" I suggested. "Or maybe twenty?"
"That's almost funny, mister smarty pants," Vex said.

Usually I write myself as (at best) antihero Guildenstern.
He's a minor character from Hamlet. I shorten it to Ged.
Yes, Hamlet is the real antihero. Guildenstern is nobody.
Hamlet gets him and Rosencrantz killed through trickery.
(So you can see why I use Hamlet as management figure.)

Roger Ebert on Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead:
Tom Stoppard's play "Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead" is the most famous modern example of a tour de force in which the action in "Hamlet" is viewed through the eyes of two of the bit players, Hamlet's college friends, who accompany him on his trip to England. We know "Hamlet" is about Hamlet. They think it's about Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. There's an old joke about the actor who is hired to play the gravedigger in "Hamlet." "What's it about?" his wife asks. "It's about a gravedigger who meets a prince," he says.

As I've said many times before, hey, I'm just some guy.
But that's not acceptable. That's just not amusing enough.
Better is a Br'er Rabbit, or Wile E. Coyote (supergenius).
I understand many roles, but I feel attached to very few.
To present my understanding, I sometimes assume roles.

To teach about living, I become a father for my two sons.
But to teach you about trickery, I need to be Br'er Rabbit.
In what sense is this confusing? Does anyone not do this?
Changing roles does not hurt my sincerity in any of them.
I think a more bizarre idea is who I am really in your eyes.

A Norse treedragon god Wyv is one you never heard about.
He lives in Ygg, the world tree, and he also invented runes.
Odin stole credit for runes after Wyv told him about them.
Wyv told me the tale when I got lost in Ygg as a youngster.
Why is this story not an acceptable explanation of myself?

I've no real inclination to have multiple personalities at all.
But my self concept is not deeply ingrained. So it changes.
I'm quite consistent in a real world persona as work drone.
But that role just doesn't exercise my repertoire very much.
This web site is a useful outlet for trying out more variety.

"Kill them all!" Poe kept urging Wyv, while laughing.
Remind me not to play games with Poe involving Wyv.
Maybe his game pirates or wolves were very naughty.
Best not to be anywhere near really angry gods, yes?
But a thorough epic tale needs an episode someplace.

mitty haunted circus @
Puzzled, Vex asked me, "So you were Mitty all along?"
"No," I replied, "That was an explanation after the fact."
Vex furled his brow. "Then why are you Walter Mitty?"
"I recalled the story and put it into context," I answered.
"So you just recognized yourself as Mitty?" Vex asked.

"You like everything in neat piles, don't you?" I asked.
Vex winced. "Nah, I just... ah, no. Are you kiddin'!"
I sighed. "Is the haunted circus idea bothering you, too?"
Vex nodded. "Something Wicked This Way Comes?"
"No," I guaranteed. "And it's not the Deadman comic."

"But," Vex leered, "You'd stoop to borrowing a little?"
"Why?" I asked. "Is there a part you want to live out?"
"Uh, wait," Vex ogled. "Ged, are you threatening me?"
"Heh, always," I giggled. "What's wrong? Chicken?"
Vex posed. "Man, I can still sic buddy Serling on you."

"Buck, buck, buck!" I clucked. "Vex is a big chicken."
"Yer just playin' me!" Vex accused. "You want to go!"
I flapped stubby wings and pecked. "Buck, buck AWK!"
Vex reached over and slapped me before I saw it coming.
Then I chased him around the room, overturning chairs.

Scenarios were precursors of scripts specified exactly.
The flexibility let players interact with an environment.
As a result, each performance varied by some amount.
Presumably audiences enjoyed blurred edges in theater.
Stories were more real when responding to a context.

Clownish characters called zanni came in many flavors.
They were male and female both, clowns or acrobats.
Some troops specialized, but zannis had unique shticks.
Typically the zannis played manservants or lady's maids.
Both sexes were equally inclined to amorous intrigues.

My stories tend to omit the entire heroic character class.
This is a somewhat postmodern blurring of boundaries.
Sometimes clowns and stiffs can act heroic or villainous.
One character can play all the roles in a random rotation.
But they usually come home to standard role positions.

Kinetic weapons are tough, even under near light speeds.
We were sprayed by shrapnel from the impact explosion.
The road cleared after the remaining hulk drifted to a curb.
It made me think of using a decoy vehicle from now on.
I'm dreading a Windows for Rail Guns software upgrade.

doctor, he's figured it out @
After hounding Vex about being chicken, I sent a postcard.
I've got him worried about a chicken's head he bit off once.
The card said, "I'll see you at the Haunted Circus, ha ha!"
It was signed by the Chicken Ghost, swearing his revenge.
But it looks like Vex must have gone right to Rod Serling.

Apparently Serling had a short zone gig already in the pipe.
My warning was Lieutenant Uhura on the office intercom.
I could hear strains of the twilight zone theme on the bridge.
Then I dematerialized before I could do more than swear.
And just when I was about to take a Microsoft ship, too.

The omnipotent aliens wanted just two of us to duke it out.
But the Microsoft captain was built like a komodo dragon!
I really tried talking to him, but he only wanted to astroturf.
Fine then! I'll go make gunpowder and shoot you in the ass.
The planet had a treasure trove of GNU code in the source!

"There's no way he'll know how to use this," I told myself.
Behind me the MS guy lumbered and made dinosaur noises.
Running away with dignity, I noted various code modules.
Soon I realized I could make an interesting surprise runtime.
The other guy, whose name was Gorn, called my cellphone.

"Ged!" Gorn gargled horribly, "Give up! You can't winnn!"
"Blah, blah, blah!" I shouted back at him. Man, what nerve!
Then I started compiling the code routines I planned to use.
On the Enterprise, Vex watched my progress from the helm.
"Yes, yes!" Vex cheered, waggling his two new pointy ears.

Vex turned to cartoon Dexter, who played in McCoy's place.
"Doctor," Vex deadpanned, "I believe he has a new language."
"Bah," waved Dexter, "And don't forget! You are stooopid!"
Vex grabbed him by the throat. "Never talk to me that way."
"Hey!" Vex realized. "I'm Spock! Where's nurse Chapel?"

Back on the planet I was deploying my new code runtime.
"Zaa Hellll!" said Gorn. "What you doin', OpenDoc boy?"
"Kiss your Office monopoly goodbye, asshole!" I shouted.
Then the Swarm started, using its moiré garbage collection.
Gorn cried, "Waa! You destroyed my beautiful wickedness!"

constellation fu @
I returned to the office one night after fighting with Gorn.
Serling sent me another cool t-shirt for surviving my tour.
It's always nice how the management shows consideration.
Oddly, the night constellations were nearly all unfamiliar.
Maybe this means it's a night for surprise and ambiguity?

Or maybe the celestial attendant doesn't have enough time.
Three most arresting new star images were laid in a row.
An Hourglass suggested Kibo might appear again soon.
I couldn't make heads or tails of the Zebra next to that.
A Chicken suggested my unfinished business with Vex.

The sudden trail of a falling star streaked by the Chicken.
Maybe I'll be hit by one soon. Maybe my glasses are ready.
I saved the last near miss to have new special glasses made.
Rod said he knew this guy who makes optics from bolides.
Hey, I never argue with dead guys running a twilight zone.

chicken hawk lane @
I finally made it to my office after Pen was done with me.
My, what a strange evening! And it had only just started.
Pen's last words were disconcerting: "Get back to work."
But her eyes still twinkled, and she blew a kiss as well.
So I guess we'll sort out what this means as we go along.

I finished more plans for the circus before Vex barged in.
He slammed my door; Moneypenny buzzed the intercom.
"Sir, bogey on your six," Pen said. "Sir. Honeybunch."
"No Pen, not honeybunch," I winced. "Gotta go now."
Vex slammed his hands on my desk and glared, snarling.

"Really nice entrance," I nodded. "Big and Angry; nice."
"I found a giant breaded chicken head in my bed," he said.
"Colonel Sanders?" I asked. "Special recipe? Extra crispy?"
"Yeah, exactly!" Vex yelled. "Your style all the way, Ged."
"I have witnesses who'll swear I was on the moon," I said.

Vex paused, fuming, to decide whether it was a good joke.
"Stupid," Vex concluded, "but not bad. Ged, you did it."
"Son, I say son, it was a joke!" I said as Foghorn Leghorn.
"'Terrorism' was the word I was thinking," insisted Vex.
"Chicken Ghost must have his awful revenge!" I moaned.

"See! See!" Vex shouted. "Just keep it up. Bang! Zoom!"
"Straight to the moon Alice?" I asked him. "Am I Norton?"
Vex finally looked down at my desk. His eyes got very big.
I had several cine feeds showing a virtual Haunted Circus.
One frozen image showed this giant chicken chasing Vex.

Vex grinned fiercely, nodding. "I'm gonna kill ya, Ged."
"This is just a rough draft," I said. "Don't get so excited."
Vex laughed, "I'll tell Serling he has to speed the schedule."
"The question is whether he actually bites your head off."
Vex started flexing his hands and coming around the desk.

I looked significantly at his silhouette in the wall's plaster.
Then Vex remembered when I threw him through the wall.
"Big man! With twilight zone super powers!" jeered Vex.
"Sit down, Vex," I said. "Give me a hand with my circus."
"This Mob thing is not funny," Vex said. "So lighten up."

interoffice delivery @
Pen buzzed to say, "Sir, your meteorite glasses are here."
"Excellent!" I squealed like a ten year old. "Fire away."
"Fire in the hole!" Pen sang before a thunk sounded afar.
The carrier tube arrived by the pneumatic tube next to me.
Vex was shocked. "You put glasses in a pneumatic tube?"

"They're indestructable," I said, "Made from a meteorite!"
"That's ridiculous," Vex objected. "There's no silicon!"
I whipped out the glasses and showed him the clear lenses.
"Whatever!" barked Vex. "Bad science. Really bad science."
"Look who's talking," I riposted. "Dead guy, bioexorcist."

conspiracy of angels @
Vex started bashing my Haunted Circus in vague terms.
Then he paused. "Ged, I got just one question," he said.
"What?" I asked. "Why's it not a haunted harem instead?"
"Besides that," he said. "Who the fuck put you in charge?"
"Good question," I said. Then I put on my new glasses.

"Hey, officer," Vex said. "Am I free to go now? Huh?"
I was distracted by two figures sitting on his shoulders.
On his right shoulder was a white doll with angel wings.
On the left was a horned red devil doll with a pitch fork.
Oh lord. They were talking to Vex and I could hear them.

Red squeaked, "Ask him what the fuck he's lookin at."
"Hey, dorkface," Vex sneered. "What's up? Dreaming?"
I was having trouble avoiding mild hysteria. I giggled.
White soothed, "Appeal to his good nature. Thank him."
"Oh man," Red whined. "What a kiss ass you are, YT."

"I want to thank you for getting me involved," Vex said.
"More!" YT cheered out. "Why have trouble being nice?"
"No, I mean it," Vex said, "Haunted Circus is gorgeous."
"Except," Red sneered, "it's just a totally lameass idea."
Vex laughed, "Except it is kind of a lameass idea, Ged."

I interrupted. "Do those two tell you to say everything?"
The two demons looked stricken. Red asked, "What?"
"What the hell?" Vex asked. YT and Red traded glances.
I laughed, "An angel and devil are prompting your lines."
"Oh shit!" squeaked YT. "He's onto us! Do something."

"Oh shit!" said Vex. "He's onto us! Ged, do something."
This was so funny I couldn't do anything but laugh more.
"There's only one thing to do!" YT said. "A sacrifice!"
Vex said in confusion, "We all have to make sacrifices."
I nodded. "I might have to give up these glasses in here."

YT and Red signed to each other. They saw me watching.
"Tell him we're voodoo dolls," said YT. "Just a joke."
"They're just a joke," Vex laughed. "Dolls, just dolls."
"Fuckin voodoo dolls, asshole," Red said. "Get it right."
"They're just fuckin' voodoo dolls, Ged," Vex explained.

"So what happens when you stick pins in them?" I asked.
I really wanted to know. But I did have some idea already.
Red flinched, then pointed at YT. "Take him! Take him!"
"Take this white one," Vex said, grabbing YT in his hand.
I quickly gave Vex some pins, which he put right to use.

YT's eyes got really, really big as the tiny pin came down.
Vex jabbed YT firmly in the head, but YT looked relieved.
Both Red and Vex grabbed their heads shouting, "Ouch!!"
I said, "Vex, it's dumb to make voodoo dolls of yourself."
"Shit, no kiddin," said Red. Vex said, "Shit, no kiddin."

One the other hand, Vex might've planned the whole charade.
Moneypenny buzzed to say her clock was running backward.
You know, I always thought that was a dumb time gimmick.
So I was more impressed by the subtlety in what I saw next.
The fun started right after a lightbulb flared and then popped.

time in a bottle @
A blue glow twinkled along my wedding band. I felt a shock.
Vex flinched and yelped, putting a hand up to his open mouth.
Guess he must have some gold fillings. Then tempo wavered.
Vex froze completely still for an odd moment, then twitched.
Uh, no, Vex was just moving much too quickly for a second.

On the next slowing, the midair in my office started to glow.
A thin sound like chalk grating on a blackboard split the air.
And the air rippled in fine granularity, making a lovely moiré.
The smell of ozone came thickly from power flowing freely.
In the next breath, two human figures appeared in the glow.

Vex had been reaching for the glow, but now had a problem.
His finger tip sparked a big blue arc, and he looked stunned.
The glow died and I saw a man and woman astride a broom.
As they stepped down, I saw my first impression was wrong.
The craft was an antigravity bicycle built for two, in chrome.

Both the passengers were lithely amazing dynamic figures.
The guy: Robert Patrick plus some Jean Claude Van Damme.
The gal: Barbara Carrera, Sigorney Weaver, Linda Hamilton.
She had dark, curly red hair. He had a basic action hero cut.
Uniforms? Stylish, but government issue butt-kicking gear.

just the facts, ma'am @
Vex was out of it, drooling, like he put a finger in a socket.
The guy checked out Vex while she pulled out identification.
"Sorry, we're closed," I said. "Laundry re-open tomorrow."
But she smiled like she expected this, and flipped her badge.
"Federal Time Cops," she said. "My name's Ivy. He's Zeb."

"Hey, any time traveler can flash a badge like that," I joked.
Aha! Then I noticed what was weird about both Zeb and Ivy.
They both had zebra stripes. It was rather stronger on Zeb.
On Ivy it was very subtle. It seemed a natural pigmentation.
"Why not Yvi?" I asked. "Use just one end of the alphabet?"

"You are weird," Ivy replied smiling, "Just like they said."
"Does he talk?" I asked, hitching one thumb towards Zeb.
"Zeb, Time Cops," Zeb deadpanned. "Ged, Vex. Evening."
"What's wrong with Vex?" I asked as Zeb helped Vex sit.
"Chrono shock," Zeb answered just like a Sergeant Friday.

"Will he be okay?" I asked before I realized this was stupid.
Zeb said, "Vex will regress in time and become a fetus again."
"Really?!" I squealed in my delight. That sounded interesting.
"No, not really," Zeb sneered. "Primitives can be so gullible."
"Shut up," Ivy told him without heat. "Let me do the talking."

"But officer," I said. "I was only going seventy, I'm sure."
Ivy stared (lovely eyes). I laughed and said, "Traffic joke."
"Stop, you're killing me," Ivy deadpanned. Ouch, bad sign.
Suddenly Vex began making a few nearly intelligible sounds.
"Captain," Vex reported. "All hailing frequencies are open."

kibo's evil twin @
Zeb stepped away from Vex, and Ivy adopted a cop manner.
Her eyes now looked like wells hiding secrets inside secrets.
Also, their hands hovered free, ready to draw some weapon.
Moneypenny buzzed the intercom, and Zeb's hand twitched.
"Sir, is there something happening in there?" Pen wondered.

"Maybe there's something wrong with you!" Vex volunteered.
"Later Pen," I said. "Uh, Vex had a novel kind of accident."
I told Ivy, "I don't know nothin' about no Maltese Falcon."
She ignored that. "Ged, have you seen Kibo? Where is he?"
"I ain't no stool pigeon, doll," I answered. "What did he do?"

"Alright, Ged, see," Ivy played. "We need his brother, see."
"M'yah, see," she added. "We just want his twin Obik, see."
I held up hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. I was kidding."
"But I wasn't," Ivy said. "Where's Obik? Kibo's his twin."
"Aren't twins played out?" I asked. "Why not try his clone?"

"Holy shit!" exclaimed Vex. "What a babe! I give her a ten!"
Vex got too close. Ivy grabbed a finger and bent it backward.
"Aahhh!" screamed Vex in surprise. "Sir. I meant to say sir."
Ivy looked strong enough to toss Vex easily without effort.
"A time babe," I told Vex, "who can kick your butt pronto."

Ivy let Vex go and he got clear. Zeb never even moved at all.
"I'm serious," she said impatiently. "Obik's now on the run."
"But that's a ridiculous name," I objected. "Come on, Ivy."
She didn't care. "He plans to find a notorious time criminal."
"Haxo Angmark?" I asked. I was trying to get into the spirit.

"No, renaissance zanni Gian Polo," Ivy said. "Venice 1500."
"Funny you should say that," I said. "I was just on my way."
"I have my 1500 suitcase packed, passport ready," I added.
"I think Obik's coming here," Ivy said. "We need your help."
"Sure," Vex said. "You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours."

do as I say, and no one gets hurt @
Ivy turned to Vex. "I have no problem breaking your bones."
"Hey," Vex backpedalled. "Sure. Think and take your time."
"What's Obik driving?" I asked. "A new model sports coup?"
"You're a piece of work, Ged," Ivy said. "Ever give it a rest?"
I fluttered fingers. "I thought women liked a sense of humor."

"So, you need to work on your flirting skills," Ivy retorted.
"Ah, that's cold," I said. "Is laughing boy Zeb here better?"
"Shut up," Zeb tossed at me. But Ivy's glance silenced him.
"Will you have dinner with me, Ivy?" I asked. "It's on me."
Ivy looked thoughtful and smiled slightly. "Maybe. Later."

Both Vex and Zeb looked peeved. It's little things that count.
"I'm confused," I said. "Who do you two really work for?"
"Time Cops," Ivy said. "Official business. Catch bad guys."
"One, you guys just don't blend in," I ticked off my fingers.
"Two, you come in aboard some antigravity craft. Tsk, tsk."

"Plus," I pointed at Zeb, "he's not ready for any field work."
Ivy was good. Her face was calm without being poker faced.
I turned to Zeb. "What happens when they catch you, Zeb?"
"I told you this wouldn't work, Ivy!" Zeb broke from cover.
"Shut the fuck up, Zeb!" Ivy yelled, counting her options.

Zeb looked his question at Ivy. Then suddenly she nodded.
I can give him this much. Zeb was very fast. But so am I.
In the blink of any eye, he drew a small handheld weapon.
But I already held three steel balls coated in rubber jackets.
My arm was cocked to throw. They both looked surprised.

i got the drop on you, baby @
Ivy wished she had drawn her gun, too. Small. Dart guns?
Zeb had mistakenly started with his gun aimed toward Vex.
"This will hurt," I told Zeb. That seemed to galvanize them.
Several things happened at once. For me it was slow motion.
Zeb fired and Ivy started drawing. Yes, it was a small dart.

As this dart sailed, I let loose with a ball toward Zeb's head.
I didn't want to kill him, so it was a slow and glancing shot.
I know, you wanna know how I can throw this fast. Sheesh.
Zeb swung his aim to me and spied the incoming steel ball.
I picked a paperback book off my desk as he tried to dodge.

Zeb shouldn't have been fast enough to even see it coming.
Ivy and Zeb were some kinda freaks. The ball clipped Zeb.
As Zeb recoiled, Ivy squeezed off two new darts toward me.
Low kinetic energy, so I didn't dodge. I used the paperback.
I picked the darts from air in the book like vaccuuming dirt.

Book in left hand, I cocked my right arm to throw if needed.
Zeb fell on his butt in a daze. Seeing a few stars perhaps.
Ivy held with her gun aimed at me. "God damn it," she said.
Vex was clapping, "Woo, woo, woo! Good show! Encore."
Vex looked down at the dart in his belly. "Ouch," he said.

Ivy still aimed her gun. "Why is Vex up, Ged?" she asked.
"He's dead already," I explained. "You have to throw him."
Good, she handled that fairly well, everything considered.
Maybe she just ignored anything that was too silly to grasp?
"The darts aren't deadly," Ivy said. "I'm standing down."

As Ivy put aside her gun, I buzzed Pen on the old intercom.
"Pen, one time-cop down, maybe a concussion. First aid."
"Man or woman?" she asked totally bored. Well okay, sure.
"Uh, both. Call Poe for backup. Martial arts, scary reflexes."
"Right," Pen confirmed. "But I have first dibs on the guy."