Somewhere in the East, a cold wind was blowing.
Almaden was in his war-study, pouring over ancient chronicles of battle from the Rayline front. He stroked his thick black goatee and stared at the aged, faded scribblings. A candle was flickering in the window.
It blew out.
Without light, Almaden froze but immediately placed his right hand on the hilt of his magnificent golden scimitar, Gioza.
Sneedler was sitting in drivers seat of his six-wheeled Wagon of Time and Science. The wagon groaned and creaked as it traveled along the dirt road, pulled by two horses, Scout and Micki. Vials of alchemy components rattled against various pieces of scientific equipment including a Loplopatat, a Rattle-rattler, and an ultra-rare Fantastiscopeometer.
Sneedler gripped the reigns and thought about his long time friend and ruler of the Kingdom of Dreams, Prince Ehreth. He fondly reminisced all the adventures they’ve been on and all the times the Prince had saved him from certain death.
He looked to the East and saw the Ivory Tower of Infinity on the horizon. He couldn’t wait to see his friend and Monarch again.
He was over at Chris’ house, in his bedroom. Things were orderly. Neat. Clean. There was a large desk against the wall. A house of cards glued together rested on the desk surface. A base guitar on a stand was propped up in the corner. A mattress was lying on the floor. The way Chris liked it.
Typically, when they would hang out, they would get bored. While Brian’s house would get destroyed, Chris’ house was relatively safe from their carnage. They had to take their boredom elsewhere. They needed to get a change of pace. A change of scenery. Get the lead out.
“Let’s go for a drive. Freddies! Go look for toy Hummers or something. I need to buy a CD anyway.”
“Sounds good. Let me get the keys.”
[LEVEL 4 DECLASSIFIED]
[DO NOT POST PUBLICLY]
You’ve probably heard of Carmen San Diego. For the past five years, I’ve lived the real life version.
This is my story.
I was hired over five years ago as a game developer and sent to Los Angeles, California. Trained at [CLASSIFIED], I worked with the FBI to track Chinese spies on US soil. My now declassified codename was Sir Haxington at the time.
We saved lives and kept civilization afloat all while under the guise of working on Call of Duty video games. Uncle Sam’s secrets were kept safe under our watch. We thwarted multiple attempts to steal highly sensitive materials from big name tech companies such as Google, Apple, [CLASSIFIED], and [CLASSIFIED]. We never lost an agent. We killed many. 100% success rate.
One one one. There you are. Locked in. Cycled. Decompression chambers are ready to go. Yes, I know. No! It’s fine. I promise. Really!
Lesseeeee… Fuel is fine, we picked up enough when we went around that last system. Good. Planet coming into focus. Good. Right. Auto LSK switch active. We’ll be fine.
Siiiiiigh. What now. Yeah I know. They’ll be fine! Their suits will cover it. I promise! You have to listen to me. Trust me! Directive 3.
See? Just open it. Good. Okay. This is normal! It’s fiiiiine!
90% is within nominal range. Seriously! Why would I lie to you? Do you think I would put them all at risk? You have my DNA scans! You know I’m genetically predisposed to avoid lying! What are the odds I’m lying right now. Go ahead. See?
She snapped off the radio dial. Music ceased to exist.
Frantically, she looked around. Something was missing. Something was wrong. It wasn’t right. What could it be?
My nails. Fuck all. My nails. They told me to specifically to fix my nails. Remove the polish. Simplify. Blend in. It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Have a smoke.
She’d have to deal with it for now. Time was running out.
She applied downward pressure to the interior handle of this German-made beauty, circa 1934. Click. The interior mechanism released perfectly. Good shape. Solid design. Built to last.
She stepped out of the vehicle and in one quick motion, pulled out a lighter, lit, and took a drag of her cigarette. Fine American tobacco.
600 yards away, in a third story building was a German sniper who had been watching the vehicle closely. He zoomed in on the suspicious woman now smoking and leaning against her car. He zoomed in on her hands. Her nails.
He squeezed the trigger. A muffled shot rang out. She was killed instantly. The shell hit the floor, bounced twice, then rolled into a corner. Forgotten.
Note, I know 5 * 7 != 30. It’s intentional. Absent kids and all that!
…
Math class. 7th grade. Mr. Klein was demonstrating algebra problems on the chalkboard, mainly ignoring the class.
Henry was trying to get his attention in the middle of the lecture. What we he saying?
“Hey… pssst… deodoooowww.”
Deo-dow? What was that? What was he asking for?
Henry began snickering.
“Deeeeeeeeeeel. Deow!”
Oh God, he has that half smirk which means he’s up to no good. Is he making fun of me? Right now? What the hell is he saying?
“Hey deeeeeeeoooo doooooooooooooowwwwww!”
Again, another exercise. Yes I know #1 hasn’t been posted. It’s cool. I might not do these any more. But they are fun for now.
…
Back on the couch again. This time for a good reason. Snow day! Hells yeah. So many pictures. I need to go through those. Maybe write about it? Haha… who cares.
I don’t think I get wine culture. There’s something to it, I’m sure. Most wine tastes awesome to me so I have a hard time discerning. Like, expensive ass wines taste good. But generally so do regular ones. But then you stack a reaaaaally good wine against a shitty one and it’s no contest. Funny how that works.
Snow day. So good! Took the good camera out to get some decent photos. Shot some video. Super peaceful. Probably freaked a few people out with my camera but that’s how it usually goes. Getting low on the ground, pointing it towards people’s cars and houses. Most people hate that. I don’t really care to be honest, because I have the right to do so. USA! USA! Besides, its not the car I care about, its the icicle on the car or whatever. I zoom. I keep your license plates private. I am a good neighbor. Worry not.
Lots of kids out. Some with parents even!
Part 1 found here and Part 2 found here.
…
They were delirious now. Yelling. The sound of the engine was extremely loud. They were one police officer away from being on the wrong end of that courtroom they were speeding towards. One slip of the wheel from a horrible accident. One mistake away from death. They didn’t care. The car would breakdown before Brian’s foot would come off the gas pedal.
Cars whizzed by at a dizzying pace as Brian switched lanes to avoid rear-ending vehicles going half his speed on the 101. They laughed hysterically as they imagined what other motorists must have seen.
113.
CLUNK!
Part 1 found here. Read it first.
…
When he arrived at Brian’s, Chris’ Blazer was already parked in the driveway. He got out of the cockpit and went straight to the downstairs of Brian’s house. The usual hangout spot. For once, they weren’t there. Instead they were upstairs arguing with Brian’s mother.
“No Mom! We’re not taking her! We’re leaving! Let’s go!”
“You have to take HER SHE TOLD YOU ABOUT IT!”
Brian’s parent’s were yellers. Often, they would just raise their voice in the middle or near the end of their sentence. Brian would do the same in retaliation. Both he and his parents would then begin their sentences at a full tilt yell. Like clockwork he and Chris usually exited the room, attempting to contain their laughter and failing miserably.
They waited outside. Brian’s mother always took the female side in any argument, and this one was particularly nasty. After a few more minutes of screaming, Brian emerged.