Doug the Ditch Digger Saves a Frog

    Doug the ditch digger was digging his ditch when a frog jumped in.

    "I'll save you buddy!" Doug screamed. He threw his shovel to the side and dove into the hole. With his legs flailing around in the air, he managed to grab the frog, but he couldn't get himself out.

    Ernie the excavator engineer saw this from a mile away. He wasn't about to let some hole get the best of his friend Doug, so he drove his digger all the way across the highway to scoop him out. And scoop he did!     In a single scoop he doubled the size of the hole and rescued his friend, and his friend's new friend, from the depths of the hole.

    "Thanks Ernie!" Doug said as he landed right-side up on his feet, still clutching the little creature.

    "No problem Dougie" Ernie said, laughing. "Say, whatcha got there?"

    "It's a frog! He jumped in my hole earlier, and I just had to save him."

    "That's a good thing you did there," Ernie told Doug. Then he spoke to the frog "You're one lucky froggy! You were saved from a hole, and you made a good friend today. You be kind to Doug now!" Then he drove his excavator back across the highway to finish his own job.

    Doug held out his hand to the frog for a high-five, and the frog shot his leg out, smacking Doug's hand with a loud "Slap!"

Elder Brigham's Collapse

    When the great meeting of elders had concluded, Elder Brigham nearly collapsed down the stairs as he exited the room atop the tower. He managed to stabilize himself, but sank down to avoid falling. Elder Prior observed this and brought it to the attention of Elder Elder, who suggested they immediately have a meeting to determine what to do about Elder Brigham.

    Upon hearing this suggestion, Elder Brigham stood right back up and assured the elder's he was in fact quite alright. To show them how alright he was, he began his descent down the spiraling stairs, and after three steps, he finished the collapse that he'd begun moments before. Elder Brigham toppled all the way down to the bottom, falling unconscious in the process.

    He awoke to Elder Elder murmuring to the nurse but was unable to catch anything specific. Not until he distinctly heard the word "meeting," to which he sat right up and said "no, no, no thank you, no meeting, I'm quite alright as you can see!"

    Happy at Elder Brigham's sudden recovery, Elder Elder said "Elder Brigham, wonderful to see you awake and alert! You continue to amaze me. Well, seeing as you're better, I'll have to cancel our meeting reviewing the state of your condition!"

    Upon hearing this, Elder Brigham sighed and fell back into his pillow. He couldn't bear the thought of another meeting; how would they ever accomplish anything if they continued discussing plans on how to discuss how they ought to accomplish things?

    "I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning then! We've scheduled a meeting to review the circumstances of your collapse; we'll have it right after our weekly stair-spiral-direction review. The consensus is still in favor of counterclockwise, but I suspect Elder Varna will change his vote soon. . ." Elder Elder continued, taking no notice of the heart monitor which had flatlined, nor the bustling nurses tending to Elder Brigham.

    After each discharge of the defibrillator, Elder Brigham begged them to stop, but they continued to persist; he failed to sign his DNR in time.

    So, the next morning Elder Brigham found himself slogging up the counterclockwise steps of the tower for his scheduled meetings. When he entered, he found the Elders unusually frantic. "What's going on?" he asked

    "Elder Prior just collapsed, this wasn't scheduled, and we're trying to arrange a meeting to discuss what to do about it, but we're already booked with the stair-spiral-direction meeting, and then we're to review the circumstances of your own collapse. It will just have to come after that." Elder Washington answered.

    Everyone began taking their seats, leaving Elder Prior unconscious on the floor. Before Elder Brigham navigated towards his own seat, he made eye contact with Elder Prior, who had just opened his eyes to check on his surroundings. He gave Elder Brigham a wink and shut his eyes again before anyone else noticed. Elder Brigham chuckled to himself, then pondered the implications of everything he'd just experienced. At least this would give him something to think about during the meeting.

A Haiku: Recursive Dialogue

Tell me how many

Times I need to tell you to

Repeat this question?

Squirrel Brothers

    "Go sniff flowers you bumblebee!" Frank squirrel yelled at his little brother, Chad. It was the most ridiculous, and benign insult Chad had ever received from his older brother, and he just laughed and continued on munching on a walnut. Well, this didn't please Frank, so he scurried up the tree to tell his parents, but he forgot that they'd gone out for the evening. So instead, Frank eyed Chad from his perch, then descended upon him in a cannonball.
    Frank landed on Chad right as he was taking another bite, and he hit him so hard that his teeth sunk deep into the nut. When he got up, he couldn't see his brother over the giant nut's shell. Now it was Franks turn to laugh. As he rolled on the floor in hysterics, Chad scrambled around trying to relieve his teeth of the weight.
    Suddenly, the nut was yanked off by none other than Frank and Chad's dad, Humphrey. Humphrey squirrel was not a squirrel to upset. The two brothers immediately scurried to their room, and just in time. Humphrey was about to give them a stern chattering when their mom, Wendy, calmed him down and assured him it was just brotherly fun. Humphrey cooled down, and Frank and Chad let out a sigh.

    They were safe for tonight.

Time for Salad

    "Time to eat some salad!" Sandy Salad exclaimed, bringing a big bowl of Caesar out. Her guests silently exited the table once her face was hidden by the towering bowl of leaves. They snuck out to the back yard and began grilling steaks instead.

    When Sandy was sufficiently full of salad, she smelled the scent of the sizzling steaks, and her verdant vision turned red. She refilled her bowl with more salad, then walked out onto the deck, and peered silently over the edge. There she viewed her traitorous guests cooking her own meat, on her own grill, at her own party. With a ferocious shriek, she leapt off the deck and onto the grill, her fury blocking all pain from her burning feet.

    Sandy shoved the tongs into the bowl, and ripped them back out, clutching a heaping tuft of greens. Then she shoved the salad into Beef Archibalds' mouth, and gripped his jaws and made them chew. She repeated this with each of her guests before they could flee, and when all had swallowed a mouthful, she repeated herself "I said. . . time to eat some salad."

    Her guests nodded and smiled green smiles, then returned to their places at the table to eat more salad as she so adamantly requested.

Surprise Routine at the Olympics

    The crunching of his thighs could be heard throughout the stadium as Bimone Smiles stepped up to the floor. He was the crowd favorite, and as long as he could land his routine perfectly, the gold medal would indeed be his. The sound rang for him to begin his routine, but it wasn't the beep he was expecting; it was the gong.

    "No," he whispered. "Why during my routine?" But before he could finish his thought, dozens of ninjas streamed through the various entrances, and down from the rafters. For every Olympic event there was a one in eighty-seven-thousand chance that the athlete would instead have to face a ninja attack, and today that athlete was Bimone.

    With little time to think, Bimone took to the floor and began his routine as rehearsed; he'd have to make up the rest on thy fly as he defended himself from the attacking ninjas. The first three onto the floor attacked him from all directions, but they were no match for his quads, which he used to kick his lower legs back and bludgeon their faces with his heels. Like a hulking Irish step dancer, he continued this approach with the first few waves; it was effective, and it bought him time to think about how to approach the remaining hundred or so.

    Bimone didn't want it to come down to such an inelegant method, but the only idea he could think of next was to return to his breakdancing days. He spun into a windmill, and whenever a ninja got close, he would flare out, taking them down with his mace-like calves. Another twenty down, Bimone needed to rest. He halted in a baby freeze, scanning his surroundings. It looked like the ninjas were bringing weapons now.

    "Ain't no rest for the winded" he sighed.

    Like an explosion of pure muscle, Bimone leapt from his freeze, and landed facing the nearest enemy, his legs crunching once again. He sensed throwing stars whizzing toward him, so vaulted into a series of backflips, reflecting each projectile back to its owner with his mighty glutes.

    After the stars came grappling hooks. They were teaming together to try and take him down, and no doubt bind him, if they could. But Bimone wouldn't let that happen. He decided to decrease the total surface area he presented them to grapple by dropping completely to the floor.

    The ninjas clearly thought he'd given up because they nearly pounced on him to try and immobilize him. Instead, with grappling hooks snagging each of his limbs, he swiftly pulled himself into a tight ball, sending those still gripping the ropes flying into each other, their heads going completely coconuts. 

    Then Bimone wrapped the ropes around each of his limbs and once again began spinning and twirling across the floor. Remember elegance and remember the boundary he recalled. This was not the performance he expected to give, but it still counted, and all the rules were still in place. With grace, he swung the ropes around, snaring and tangling ninjas with each rotation. He was a maelstrom of woven ninja-vanquishing.

    Eventually he felt the ropes spinning too freely and realized he'd defeated all of the ninjas. all of them, except one. The boss he thought.

    A crazed look appeared on the boss' face, and then he ran like a maniac into the middle of the floor. He approached Bimone with flailing movements which could only be a poor rendition of taijutsu. The poor ninja.

    Bimone was hoping for a challenge, but a simple pirouette-powered kick to the stomach knocked him out. The ninjas were defeated, and Bimone looked to the judges table. Suspense hung in the air as they wrote down their scores.

    Then they lifted up their scores. 7.5s across the board. Bimone grew furious.

    "Seven point five! Are you kidding me! I didn't cross the line for a second, and I defeated every single one of them!"

    Security had to step in to protect the judges. Once he'd been calmed down enough, Bimone stomped off the floor, leaving giant holes behind each step. The Olympics continued on, but Bimone stayed in the locker room, seething.

Nuclear Chihuahuas

    In his hands, Dr. Twisttwiddle held the keys to the revolution. In his left was a nuclear multiplier, and in his right was an extraordinarily small chihuahua. He raised them up, beholding each one as its own entity before shouting out atop the skyscraper "Synthesize!"

    He smashed the two together, and out of his hands flowed a river of nuclear chihuahuas. Unleashed upon the city, they'd bring order, and unbeknownst to the citizens, allegiance to Dr. Twisttwiddle and his quest for world domination.

The Six-Hundred-Thirty-Second Superbowl

    It was the fourth down of the final play of the six-hundred-thirty-second Superbowl, and Phase Jetson was set to make the winning catch. The play was decided on, and the team was lined up. The quarterback, Ion Ianson, counted down the play, then hiked the ball.

    Phase blasted off, following his route. Ion spotted him exactly where he expected. He launched the ball right toward his anticipation spot. Phase caught the ball right at his center of mass, right in the core, but the ball was thrown so hard that it knocked him out of the gravity field, and he started floating off into space.

    Coach McThrust smacked his head with the clipboard.

    "What are you doing Ion!" he called, then started pacing back and forth on the sideline. They still had time left, what could they do?

    Then an idea struck him. "Timeout!" he yelled to the ref.

    The players trotted over to the sideline, and they reviewed Coach's plan. They all shrugged at the proposed idea; it was worth a shot. They trotted back out to the field, and instead of beginning a new play, they lined up back on the line of scrimmage, but facing backwards.

    Ion counted down again, but instead of "Hike!" he yelled "Thrust!" and the players ran as hard and fast toward their own goal, directing as much force of their movement as they could parallel to the ground. It was working!

    Slowly, but quite surely, the space stadium drifted toward Phase thanks to the opposite force the team was applying to the field. The stadium drew nearer and nearer to Phase until he breached the gravity field. As soon as he did, he fell right onto the field, and as he fell he directed himself as best as he could toward the opposing team's end zone.

    He was right on the line. He pointed his toes and stretched his legs as much as he could, and when he touched down on the ground, he just grazed the interior of the end zone before crashing into the field.

    The referees threw their arms up. "Touchdown!'' The crowd erupted in cheers in amazement at the most remarkable touchdown the Superbowl had ever seen.

    Phase managed to pull himself out of the crater he made on impact before the team thrust him up on their shoulders. Coach McThrust ran over, relieved, and congratulated him and Ion for their outstanding play.

    Then the team dumped astronaut ice cream all over their coach, as was tradition, and then the media swarmed them, asking endless questions about the final play and Coach's quick thinking. As a good coach does, though, he gave the credit to his team, and the Gemini Twins made history as the six-hundred-thirty-second superbowl winners.

Chicken John

    "Oh no, run guys, here comes Chicken John!" Peter screamed to his friends.

    Down the path walked Chicken John, the dreaded school bully who always brought a bucket of chicken for lunch. He liked to take his time, so would usually arrive at the school yard later than the rest of the kids. Today Peter and the gang were the closest to the school yard entrance, and thus Chicken John's prey for today.

    As soon as he saw them, he ran right for Peter, clomping the ground and sending tremors through the school yard with each step. Peter was quick, but he made a bad turn and ended up tangled right in the middle of Tammy and Penelope's jump rope.

    "I love when my prey captures itself!" Chicken John said, sauntering up to Peter.

    He gave an obnoxious laugh, then lifted the bucket high above his head. With a final grin, he slammed it down on Peter's head, covering him with bones and slimy, oily tendons.

    "Blegh" Peter screamed but stifled himself before any of the contents entered his mouth.

    Chicken John walked away holding his belly laughing, while Peter's friends rushed up to help him. They lifted the bucket up and bones toppled off Peter's head and to the ground.

    "Thanks guys" he said as his friends untangled him and helped him up. He brushed the residue off his clothes and out of his curly hair; luckily the fried bits matched his hair color so it wouldn't be too noticeable.

    The bell rang, and the students began returning to the school.

    "I'm going to get him back one day," Peter said. "I don't know how, but one day he'll be the one with a chicken bucket on his head." And they returned to their classroom with new plans in mind.

The Discovery of Fruitnetic Energy

    The Mighty Apple hung suspended in fruitnetic field of the generator. Scientists gathered around the containment mesh of the device, eager to witness the results of their efforts. The head scientist, Dr. Waxbite, flipped the power switch, and the Mighty Apple began to spin.
    The scientists observed the fruit spinning faster and faster. "Approaching critical rotational velocity!" one shouted. "All personnel, open mouths!" he added.
    Then all the scientists opened their mouths wide. When the Mighty Apple reached the hypothesized critical spin, it shattered, sending its contents flying outward. The mush sped through the fruitnetic flux sensors, and eventually through the mesh and onto the scientists faces, some of which ended up in their open mouths to a resounding "Mmm."
    Minutes later the scientists finished recording the results of the experiment, and they were quite pleased. It was clear that fruitnetic energy was a promising alternative to petroleum-based resources in the future, with the only emission being clean applesauce.

    Dr. Waxbite changed out of his lab coat, and into his pinstripe suit and bowler hat for the press conference. "It's a good day for Red, Delicious Energy Inc. today friends!" he said as he walked up the laboratory stairs and out the door.

Hnelly the Hnail

    Hnelly the hnail was eating her hnack when she heard the hneaky hnake, Hniles, hnooping around. He slithered up to her and started hniffing her with his hnout. She hnuck into her shell, then hnarled and hnorted to try and scare Hniles away. Hniles hnapped at her shell but Hnelly remained hnug inside. Fortunately for her, it started to hnow, so Hniles slithered back to his home, and Henlly went to sleep, hnoring the night away.

America's Got Emily

    Emily entered the stage timidly. She loathed being up here in front of everyone. She hated giving presentations in front of the class, or anything that drew people's attention to her. Casual conversation even made her uncomfortable. But she had a gift, and a long with some encouragement from her friends and family, she knew she needed to share it with the world.

    Simon welcomed her to the stage, and asked "hello, welcome to America's Got Talent, what is your name?"

    Emily just stared wide-eyed and shook her head.

    Simon kept his smile, but it was clear he was rolling his eyes in his head. Howie chimed in "well, we're glad you're here. Let's see what your talent is."

    Emily's knees started quivering so hard they were clacking together. Shortly later that was drowned out by the musical introduction to Don Carlo's Ella Giammai M'amo.

    On queue Emily began to sing, and what the audience heard astounded them. Emily sang perfectly King Philip's aria, with deep bass that rivaled most professional opera singers. It was so deep and powerful that it blew Simon's hair right off, and a luscious mane erupted from Howie's scalp. It took was then blown away, and Howie crawled under the table; he simply couldn't handle the emotional cacophony of the moment.

    Finally the piece ended, and Emily scurried off stage before the audience knew what to do. Then everyone stood up in a standing ovation, scattering all of their hair off their shoulders and into the atmosphere. Simon tried to hit the golden buzzer, but it malfunctioned from the sheer power of Emily's voice.

    A check was mailed to her home for winning this year's contest, and she signed a record deal with Enya, who was trying something different in her later years. People who were tired of relaxing too much would find her new work refreshing. And fortunately for Emily, all the recording would be done remotely, so she'd never have to worry about appearing in front of an audience again.

The Tuna Eating Poem

I eat tuna fish from a can

By grabbing it out with my hand

I prefer chunky in oil --

It's less likely to spoil --

While driving around in my van

Saharan Serendipity

    The blazing sun beat down on Mitch and Jamal as they pushed their broken-down car to the nearest gas station. Their time could have been spent much more wisely because the Sahara Desert doesn't have gas stations, and it's not likely giving a fainted camel gasoline to drink would help him fare any better. As it was, though, they pushed and pushed, and the jackals and lizards that watched were quite impressed.

    They also figured they'd save their energy with an easy meal presenting itself to them soon.

    "I told you not to let up on the clutch too fast." Jamal said.

    "I didn't, you're the one who didn't fill the tank enough." Mitch replied.

    "Look at the gauge! We still have plenty in the tank. It's definitely an engine problem." Jamal said back, lifting the camel's eyelid.

    "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. The sign back there said we have another four miles to the nearest shop." Mitch conceded. "Just gotta keep pushing." He added, giving a good shove into the beast.

    "Fine." Jamal said, heaving on his side.

    Sometime later Jamal perked up "Look! An oasis!"

    Mitch picked his head up and immediately saw it too "Lol in the middle of the highway? That's bonkers. Let's go!"

    So, Jamal and Mitch ran to the oasis and jumped into the water. They cooled off and hydrated, and once clarity began to resume in their heads, reality struck them.

    "The camel!" they said in unison. They both jumped out and ran back to the animal, who was now beginning to be surrounded by the jackals that had been watching them earlier.

    "Back off!" the boys yelled, scaring the animals away.

    With fresh minds and bodies, the two stranded gave renewed effort to get the camel to the oasis. By the time they reached the water, they were ready to jump back in, but not before seeing to their steed. It took a long time, but eventually they were able to get water in the camel's mouth and then help him drink by himself.

    Once the camel was alert enough, they shoved him one last time into the pool, and this brought immediate joy to the creature. He hopped and splashed all around in the water, and the boys continued relaxing themselves. That night they all slept soundly; they'd figure out what to do about their predicament in the morning.

Demo Girl

    Emma was a demolition engineer, and today her job was to take down 415 Zabnier Avenue. The most important part of a demolition engineer's job is to ensure there are no injuries, fatalities, or collateral damage. Emma was good at her job but today was just not the day to be a demolition engineer.

    On her way to work a pigeon flew into her windshield. This startled her so much that she spilled her coffee all over her front, searing her chest. In her distraction, she failed to apply the brakes in time before seeing old man Herbert shuffling across the road. She ran right into him, sending him rolling up the windshield and flying over the roof. Fortunately for him, he'd brought his cane of dexterity, so he landed perfectly fine on his feet, though the event did leave him shaken.

    There was no time to stop and check on the man, Emma had a job to do, so she continued on her way to the job site. Police cars blared their sirens behind her, but she continued on; she was almost at the job site. She'd explain everything to them when she arrived.

    As she pulled in, the police surrounded her. This was one event too many for her morning. Emma snapped, and before they could approach her, she ran into her command station and locked herself in. The police pounded on the door and spoke through their megaphone "Ma'am, we all have bad mornings, step out peacefully and your consequences will remain minimal."

    Emma crouched in the corner, grabbing her hair. The stress was unbearable. When it was clear they wouldn't just leave her alone, a thought occurred to her. Yes, she found the only way out of this situation. She picked herself up and exited the rear of the command post -- the police didn't realize there were two entrances to guard -- and entered 415 Zabnier Avenue, grabbing detonation equipment and a red cloth that was caught on the fence.

    Several minutes later, the police managed to break into the command post, only to find it empty and the back door wide open.

    "She fled from the back! Quick, search the building!" one office shouted.

    Another immediately pulled him back "No idiot, the place is lined with explosives" he said. "Form a perimeter around the building!" he commanded the rest of the squad.

    The police all surrounded the building, but shortly after they saw a figure laden with sacks on either side, and a red mask flapping in the wind, perched atop the structure.

    "Ma'am, please, come down and let's avoid any further trouble" the police called through the megaphone.

    "Never!" Emma shouted, then she shot her hand in the air and clicked the detonator. The charges throughout the building exploded, and the structure gracefully tumbled to the ground in its place. The job was so well executed, the police barely coughed from debris.

    "Well, it's always a shame when they choose to go that way, but our work here is done. Let's go boys" the commander announced to his squad.

    Moments later they heard another, single explosion. The police turned around and saw Emma flying through the air. She landed in front of them, using a charge to slow her fall.

    "She's alive! Get her!" the first officer shouted.

    "Today was the wrong day to mess with Demo Girl!" Emma said to them. She held two charges in her hand. One she threw at the officers, and the other she threw to the ground. They both exploded at the same time. The first knocked the police to the ground, while the second launched Emma back into the air. Then she used another one midair to send her flying to another part of town.

    They saw no more of Demo Girl that day, but they had yet another entity to deal with in the city now. Was she a hero, or a villain? Only time would tell.

Obtaining Highwind

    An ethereal storm formed over Saya. The city had been working towards perfecting their storm portal for years, and what conjured above them was the closest they'd gotten. The citizens stopped everything they were doing to stare up at the dangerous beauty. One lighting strike from this storm could mean instant incineration. Or, if channeled correctly, the immediate transportation to Highwind, the storm capital of the universe.

    Saya had grazed evidence of them while monitoring the Cosmic Stormscope. It was the Tempest of the Heavens that revealed Highwind's existence, and they sought admission to the capital as soon as they glimpsed it.

    Wingwisher climbed to the top of the stormtower. He held his arms out wide, hoping this attempt would work. The raging storm surged on before him; lightning arced across its expanse. As it drew nearer, Wingwisher's hair stood up on end. Faint images of Highwind shone through the portal. The hopeful citizen smiled with glee, then he was struck in a blinding flash.

    Wingwisher stood there no longer, and the Saya stormwatchers rushed to the Cosmic Stormscope. They listened intently for their success code. Minutes passed without a single signal. They began to give up hope, but then the device detected something. They isolated the signal from the noise, and what they heard rendered them speechless. "Tempest Truth. Haven in Highwind!"

    The room cheered, and news soon spread throughout all of Saya. They'd confirmed contact and proved transportation to Highwind. Engineers immediately began work to establish safer, and more reliable transportation between realms.

    Saya would no longer be a backwater station of humanity, but a cosmic leader in stormhopping. The galactic governments would use them as their transportation hub. The protection of Highwind would ensure no authority tried to seize Saya for their own gain. Finally, Saya would become more than a brief pit stop for galactic wanderers.

Ernie and the Endless Imprisonment

    "Eat the cookie or you will suffer the most dreadful of consequences" Dreadlock drawled on.

    Ernie was confused. His captor's tone was sinister, but he couldn't tell if the man was cunning, or stupid. The captor reached for the cookie, staring at Dreadlock the entire time. Maybe his countenance would betray him.

    Ernie grabbed the cookie, brought it to his mouth, and prepared to take a bite. Not a muscle of Dreaklock's face moved. Well, there was only one way to find out. . .

    Closing his eyes and preparing for the worst, Ernie ate the cookie in one bite. He chewed it up and swallowed it, fully committing to his decision.

    He looked up. Dreadlock's upper lip quivered with a smile. He began shaking. Then all of a sudden he burst out laughing with a most maniacal laugh. "You fool! You absolute fool! You had your life in your own hands. Have you no self control? The amusement renders me tickled absolutely pink! Guards, send this fool to the headdunker!"

    Ernie braced himself for what would happen next, as three doors slammed open behind him, and thirty-four guards streamed in to bind him. "Liar!" he shouted as they began taking him away.

    "Halt!" Dreadlock yelled. "What. Did. You. Call. Me?"

    "You're a liar. I ate the cookie, and yet you still send me to be tortured."

    "You face the just consequences for eating the cookie. How dare you slander my good name!"

    "But that's NOT what you said. You said I would face the consequences if I did not eat the cookie, so I ate it."
    "Now you lie. Guards! Doubledunk this fool."

    Then a guard spoke up. "Actually sir, with all due acclaim and commendation, the prisoner is correct."

    Dreadlock jolted his head forward raising one eyebrow unnaturally high in doubt. "Show me the footage."

    Two guards wheeled out a cart holding a CRT and VCR. They rewound the footage until just before Dreadlock gave Ernie the order, then played it for Dreadlock. When he beheld himself make the gravest fumble of conjunctions a supreme bureaucratic officiant had ever made, he wailed and cast his hand back against his forehead in a dramatic faint.

    "Guards!" he said, now weeping. "Take me away. Take me away for a most dreadful TRIPLE dunk. Or set this poor boy free, he's endured enough."

    The guards carried Dreadlock away, trotting in unison into the dunking river, leaving an even more confused Ernie sitting back in his prisoner's chair.

    Sometime later -- Ernie couldn't tell how long it'd been -- Dreadlock returned, soaking wet, along with his guards. He sat on his throne, and just as he was slumping down, he jolted back up. "What are you still doing here? Haven't you been freed?" He asked Ernie.

    Ernie covered his face in his hands and sighed. "No sir, you gave your guards the option to dunk you or free me. They chose to dunk you, so I've been sitting here since."

    Dreadlock gave him the same animated incredulous look as before. "Show me the footage."

    Ernie smacked his palm to his face and the two cart guards strolled the vehicle back out to replay the footage for Dreadlock. Ernie had a feeling he would be here for quite some time.

Donny the Deer's Tick Problem

    Donny Deer stotted gaily through the forest, enjoying his day when a wretched tick took a big chomp into his hide.

    "Yeeeowww!" Donny cried as he stopped to look at the spot where the tick had bitten him. He glared at the infernal arachnid, then muttered "flee from my body, or feel my wrath."
    The tick held tight, and so Donny marched up to the nearest tree and began scraping his side against it. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten scratches. Donny looked back at the spot. The tick was still there! But his skin was bare.
    "Fine, you wanna play tough huh? Let's go see Pearl. The tick gave a quizzical look but then shrugged. He didn't care. Off he rode, dangling from Donny's side.
    Sometime later they arrived at another tree. "Hey, Pearl! You up there?"
    Donny heard the loudest, most obnoxious yawn he'd ever heard. "Who's wakin' me up from my slumber?" a voice cried. Then a big grey ball unraveled from one of the branches.
    "Oh, hi Pearl, didn't mean to wake you!" Donny said, but Pearl just stared at him flatly. He knew this was her time for sleeping.
    "Well, I'm awake regardless. What do you want?"
    "I got a tick problem, you're the only one I thought of that could help."
    Before Donny finished his sentence, the possum fell down upon Donny. In mid air it spotted the creature, and as she approached, the tick stared wide-eyed in fear. It tried to un-nibble Donny's skin, but it was too late. Pearl chomped down on the tick, chewed it up and swallowed.
    "Ahh, thanks for the treat, buddy!"
    "No, thank you Pearl, that thing ruined my day until you took care of him"
    And that's why it's important to befriend woodland critters and treat all with respect. Donny had done so, and when he needed help himself, he could turn to his friends for assistance. Donny resumed his stotting through the forest with Pearl possum clenched to his side, bouncing her up and down, and whacking her head on every stump he passed by.

Ruth's Giant Radishes

    Ruth took a big bite into one of the giant radishes she picked from her yard. Every year they sprouted there. She didn't know where they came from, but every spring she needed to shovel out a hole wider than she was tall to get each one out. The thing was, she hated radishes. She absolutely despised them, but it was good exercise, and free food, and in this economy she'd be nuts not to eat the radishes.

Friendship Power Before Pride

    It was Diamond Glitterlocks' turn to pogo. He launched out of the twenty-foot holding balcony and landed with a long, audible, drawn out sprooooing. At the crest of his bounce back into the air, he performed a wondrous octuple spin. His glittering locks twirled magnificently around his head; it almost seemed as if they were what kept him aloft. He descended gracefully back down, and pogoed his way through the rest of the course. He flipped and bounced off of every surface with aplomb; no pogoer would come close to his grace.

    As his session ended, he bounced back up to the ending balcony, waving to the crowd whom he adored so very much. That one split of attention cost him dearly, though. The pogo stick only grazed the balcony edge, and instead of landing gracefully onto the platform, Diamond's pogo stick shot out from underneath him, back onto the course, nearly hitting Prism Priscillovely in the face.

    Instead, Diamond fell downward onto his own face, and then slumped back off of the platform. His flowing locks slowed his fall, until they released from his head. Luckily his pogo stick had bounced right back underneath him, and while he landed completely safely onto his trusted instrument, the humiliation had already set in.

    The entire crowd now laughed and mocked him with fury. Diamond slowly bounced toward the exit, envisioning what the future could possibly hold for him now. Just then, though, a commanding voice sounded throughout the arena. The light went dark, and in the middle hovered Prism. In her hands she held Diamond's glittering locks.

    "You fools! You mock the very one that graced you with resplendent acrobatics! The one that has captivated us all with dazzling twists, and unapproachable spins. You sat gaping at his wondrous performance and then turned on him moments later. Well now I say, we turn on YOU!"

    Then Prism jolted her gaze at Diamond, holding his locks out in front of her.

    "Diamond! It is time. Receive back your locks and join me once again. Not as rivals, but as friends!"

Diamond looked up at Prism, and grinned. He launched forward towards his friend and grasped his locks in his hand. As soon as he affixed them back to his head, brilliant light shone forth from the two of them, blinding the crowd.

    Back to back, Diamond and Prism summoned bright energy deep from their friendship follicles. They blasted the entire audience with their pogo power, screaming intensely as they did. When they finished, they descended back to the ground, and proceeded to the exit, fresh with exertion.

    The audience members meanwhile felt their heads. Each one's hair had bounced right off their heads. Everyone looked nearly identical; never had so many bald people been congregated in a single area.     Sorrowful cries filled the stadium, but they would not be heard. Their mockery had earned them a matching punishment. That day the population of those with flowing locks diminished, but how they responded to their punishment was their choice. Would they repent and beseech humility of those graced with gorgeous manes? Or would they forsake those that were now their utmost envy?

Eldezar and the Battle of Evergrass

    The renowned spellblaster ran across the battlefield. Eldezar held the weapon he crafted himself at his side, and enemies fled before him, but none survived. By the time he reached the second rank of troops, he needed to reload his spells. Yes, wands let you cast any spell you wanted, whenever you wanted, but it took too long to recite and wave. Eldezar found it much easier to capture the spells in rounds beforehand and load them as ammunition for when efficiency was paramount.

    The battle of Evergrass was one such time, and when the Verdant Throne realized it was under attack by the Embelchers, they summoned Eldezar. By the time he made it to the battlefield, the incinerous enemies had charred much of the kingdom's beloved fields. Eldezar's vision redshifted entirely.

Now the enemies ran the opposite direction, leaving burning footprints with each step. One by one they were exploded, turned into cows, given incessant hiccups, and myriad other symptoms. Eldezar was relentless.

    Finally though, the Embelchers retreated through the desert, and deep down through the ground, into their own dwellings. Eldezar stopped at the edge of the fields, tired, but victorious. Emwingrald descended down from the castle, and landed behind the hero. Eldezar gave his steed a scratch in the neck, then mounted it, and flew back to his tower. He'd need time to rest, then restock his supply of spellmunition.

The Inklings of a Plan

    "Okay. In order to hijack a mouce without raising suspicion, the operators in Nexus need to believe something disastrous happened to it, by accident." Valence said.

    "Yeah. We can assume they'll review logs, and video and audio recordings leading up to the 'accident' too." Juniper added.

    "Right. Any more intel on the vulnerability you found?" Valence asked.

    "Yes, actually. After monitoring their signals, it looks like I can inject a payload to run a command that will take it off the Nexus network. To them it'd be no different than losing one. I'm still working out how to override their phone-home programming. I'm sure they lose connectivity to members of their nest often enough. When that happens, they must have a built-in wander protocol they default to, scanning for their network until they reestablish connectivity."

    "That's great! Assuming you can figure all of that out, then we just need to determine how to obtain one without leaving any indication that we have it, and that it was done purposely."

    "I'm sure you'll come up with something creative. And dangerous."

    Valence smirked, silently conveying probably.

    Valence paced the base for some time, while Juniper tinkered. They needed to understand the myce's behavior better. Their patterns, their schedule. Simply observing them would immediately raise suspicion, though. Residents in the Sink simply pretended they weren't there when they noticed one peering from a corner. It was best to act normal and make sure they didn't think you were up to mischief.

    Not that anyone in the Sink was any threat to Nexus. Why did the myce even care about the residents down here? Surely there was nothing of interest all the way down here?

    Anyway, they needed to keep up the facade that there was nothing suspicious going on. That meant the two of them would have to create a way to collect information about them, without revealing they were doing so.

    The amount they'd already been discussing these ideas was careless. Their base was hidden, but not invisible. What if a mouce had been sneaking by listening in on their conversations? Their patterns were predictable enough too; they both came down this alley quite often, and if Nexus was suspicious of anything, they'd know to look down here. Hopefully that wasn't the case, their plan would be over before it was even solidified.

    So what did this mean? A code. Like juveniles. . . A secret code they could use to communicate with each other, without revealing the true meaning of what they were saying to anyone else. It also meant they'd need to be hyper-aware of their behavior, what they said, and anything they did.

    "Any progress?" Valence asked.

    "Yes. you?"

    "Yes."

A Second Mesh

    "Hey" Valence said, panting as she returned to their base. "Got this for you."

    Juniper swung around in his swivel chair. "Another mesh! You rock girl. How'd you get it?"

    "Went exploring. Ran into another brute down one of the upper alleys, and he had two grunts with him. They have stun rounds, I think they called them shock bolts. Maybe something to investigate if we can get our hands on some?"

    "Absolutely." Juniper replied, studying the new mesh intently. "For now, let's see what I can learn from this loot."

    The boy turned to his desk, and Valence sauntered over to the couch and plopped down. She needed time to rest and reflect. If she hadn't maneuvered the brute in front of the shock bolt, she'd be captive right now, Juniper would be in danger, and any hope of escaping the Sink would be lost.

    After a while, Juniper scooted out from his desk. "What's up?" he asked as he walked over to his friend.

    Valence opened her eyes. "What do you mean?"

    "You're quiet."

    "I'm always quiet."
    "Yeah, but you're a quiet quiet. What's going on?"

    Valence sighed. "That was risky what I did up there. If I had messed up my timing, I wouldn't be here right now, and they'd be after you, and our base soon after. I can't be reckless like that anymore."
    Juniper stood quiet for a moment, pondering. "I've been thinking about that actually. We should get you some recon."

    Valence stared at Juniper. "Jay, I am the recon. If we try to recruit anyone else down here, that's just revealing more of our intentions, and you know we can't do that with the Sink residents. The majority are hardly trustworthy, and even the ones we might be able to trust won't be able to escape any confrontation. And even if they aren't caught by guards, the myce are still watching, and they'd probably lead them right back to us. So, I think it's on us."

    Juniper laughed. "I love how close you always come to reading my mind."

    Valence rolled her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

    "Well, I've been doing some recon myself."

    "You've been sneaking out too? You don't have any augmentations though."

    Juniper laughed again. "Not that kind of recon. My kind. The tinkery kind."

    "Of course you have. . . I assume you've found something?" Valence was sitting up straighter now, intrigued by what her friend discovered.

    "I think so. I've done some initial scans, and I think I might have found a vulnerability in the myce. What if we could gain control of them for our own use?"

    Valence thought about the possibilities. Having extra eyes to scout for them before she went out would be invaluable. But then a thought occurred to her. "Won't Nexus immediately know they've lost control of any we hack? Surely they're tracking that information."

    "An excellent point. We couldn't just hijack the device; it'd need to be done in an unassuming way. How we do that is probably something you'd be better at figuring out."

    Valence smirked. He was right. Her mind was turning over how it could be done. Simply overriding a mouce would immediately notify Nexus of several things.

    One, it would give up their location. Two, it would reveal that a vulnerability exists for the devices. Three, it would reveal that there are people intent on exploiting that vulnerability. And Four, they'd trace the location back to them as the ones intent on exploiting the myce. If they knew there were people intent on exploiting the myce, they could only assume, more than they probably already did, that those people had intentions beyond hacking "security devices" for the fun of it. Valence and Juniper would surely be imprisoned, and they'd ruin any good chance of moving up from the Sink for anyone else.

    They'd need to think for a while about how to hijack a mouce without raising any suspicion.

    "Hey Jay, can you keep up the digital recon on those things? Let's at least gain as much intel as we can before we establish a plan."

    "Already working on automated scanning intervals as we speak."

    Valence laughed to herself, then reclined back on the couch, this time to really rest.

Valence in the Alley

    Valence grabbed a can of Blue Lighting and popped it into her Essence Siphon. Immediately energy jolted through her veins, enhancing her senses and athleticism. She leaped up onto an awning, dodging a shock bolt, then jumped down and grappled the brute that was lumbering toward her. He was immensely stronger than she was, and he nearly tore her arm off, but just as he began pulling her off, his body stiffened.

    The grunts had shot another shock bolt at her, but she'd managed to maneuver the hulking man into their line of fire. The shock bolt hit the brute instead, saving her from freezing up instead. With the extra weight on his back, though, he fell backwards, pinning Valence underneath him. The Blue Lighting was the only thing enabling her to gain leverage, but it was running low. She seized her opportunity before the shock bolt wore off and ripped the mesh from the brute's head.

    When the paralysis wore off, Valence's opponent jumped to his feet, though with less power than before. He turned and punched down at her, but with her last bit of supplemental energy she rolled out of the way. His hand hit down into the ground, and he let out a painful grunt. Realizing he lacked his enhanced strength, he reached for another vial, and smashed it on his head. He ran after the girl, but at his normal, slow speed, and when he realized this, he felt his head.

    Valence turned to him and smiled, dangling the mesh from her hands. He roared with fury, but he couldn't catch her in this state, so he accepted defeat for the time being and instead ordered the grunts to continue firing on her. They finished reloading their guns and proceeded to aim at her. With the Blue Lightning depleted, though, she had no more use for the can, so she ejected it, caught it, crumpled it, then chucked it straight at them.

    Before the more prepared one could fire on her, the can hit him in the head, causing him to turn and fire on the second. With the three enemies taken care of, she escaped through the alleys, back to the Sink. Juniper would love another mesh to experiment with.

Valence and Juniper's Friendship

    Valence and Juniper had been friends from a young age. They grew up playing in the streets while their parents worked, much against their parents demands not to. Valence's mom worked in the diner down one of the alleys, and Juniper's worked at the laundromat. They'd spend much of their days playing in the clothes that hung outside the building, an idea that Juniper thought of himself.
    Every day the damp clothing would traverse on the automated line, making full use of the draft from the Fans. While it was their parents' rule that they couldn't play in any of the draft alleys, the kids quickly found the limits. They learned to pay attention to the activity in the upper sectors of the city, and unless there was something special going on, anything out of the ordinary, power consumption would remain steady, and likewise would the fan power.
    Regarding the diner, well it wasn't hard to cook food down in the Sink. The diner instead focused on making the overcooked meat more palatable. This was generally done with plenty of spices, chopping the meat small, and serving soups or stews. Some miserable residents ate them plain and whole. Valence once admired that feat and tried doing it herself. She learned from that lesson quickly.
    Valence's father was a chemist, working as he was able on various alloy research contracts. Juniper's worked in the Sink's network and engineering department, which sounded fancy, but it mostly consisted of keeping the facilities running for the residents at the very bottom of Nexus. Valence was always eager to learn about the chemistry her father worked on, and he'd teach her what he could. During the day she'd pretend the kitchen at the diner was her laboratory, and practice everything her dad taught her. And sometimes it worked. Most people weren't fond of the flavor of vinegar, or baking soda, in their meals though, so her mother had to limit Valence's experimentation.
    Juniper on the other hand saw problems everywhere in the Sink, and his dad taught him how to look at those problems and figure out how to solve them. His use of the fans drying power saved the laundromat fifty percent of its energy expenses, and he applied the same engineering anywhere he could in his life.

    The two kids would spend much time coming up with cool ideas they could do together with what they knew. An acid gun, rocket shoes, and an automatic spoon were some of their ideas. Two of those were immediately shut down by their parents, and the other just confused them.
    Valence and Juniper were lucky to have such good friends in each other. Life could be bleak in the Sink, but they made it great, and it gave those who noticed much hope as well. 

Life in the Sink

    Life in the Sink is about as bad as it can get in Nexus. The heat of the city's power consumption permeates up through the myriad grills that make up the "streets," and it's where all the rain eventually ends up, resulting in a suffocating humidity that wafts between buildings until the fans clear out the steam. But it's cheap, and less monitored than the rest of the city, so most people who live down here take the good with the bad and make things work.
    The view is about the same during the day as it is at night, being so far below the city proper. Few angles give sight of the Nexus -- the central tower for which the city was named -- let alone of the actual sky. But you can find those views if you explore a little bit, climb up to one of the higher levels of the Sink. Things get expensive real quick once you leave the Sink, though, so good luck staying out for any significant amount of time.
    Most people are just trying to live their life. Many are scraping by, and there are naturally some shady folk, but for the most part people are good down here; you just have to be careful. The eating is fine, the sleeping is fine, it's not the most comfortable, but you can find comfort. It's not luxurious by Nexus standards, but you can find, or make your own luxuries. Who says life in the Sink is bad?
    Well, it doesn't have everything. Freedom. Opportunity. The sky. . . Yeah, those are all missing in the Sink. No one talks about it during the day. Everyone goes about their business, and they get by. But what isn't said, what isn't written down, speaks the loudest to those aware of it. The myce you can spot watching you every now and then. The few jobs available to anyone. The lack of a sky! Yeah, if you want anything in life, the Sink's a pretty bad place to be.
    But who says Nexus is that great of a city either? The myce watch up there too, there's just more business to distract from it. Sure there's more opportunity, but only the opportunity that's relevant to Nexus. And yes, there's the sky. But it's not the right sky. The Mesh distorts it, and there are still skyscrapers everywhere. Find a good view, and there will still be a giant tower creeping in from some corner of your eye.
    Those are the reminders that help make life in the Sink better. Yes, life can get better if you can move to a nicer part of Nexus, but the rules don't leave. They just change, barely. A cool, fresh breeze would be nice now and then, though!

Search for an Ancient Power

    Kat sped across the desert in her duster, billowing up a dusty plume in her wake. Forsaken residencies of the ancient dwellers stood as monuments throughout the landscape, each one a strange undulating structure that while perfectly rigid, seemed to melt under the offensive sun.

    Among the hundreds, or, thousands? of them, sat a particularly important one. At least important to Kat. Inside this particular structure she hoped to find the key to an ancient power buried beneath the sand. But first she needed to find the structure itself...

Eddie the American Pie Rocket

    Eddie the American Pie Rocket gorged himself on blueberries before the big flight. When it was his time to launch, he wobbled over to the launch pad, leaving a trail of blueberry juice behind him. The pyrotechnician stuffed him into the mortar tube and lit the fuse. Moments later Eddie was soaring into the air among the bursts of all the other fireworks. Then it was his turn.
    Eddie exploded in a dazzling flash, sending American Pie pieces all over the spectators. Many of the keen ones opened their mouths wide, enjoying big gulps of the delectable dessert. Most, however, found themselves covered in blue and red stains, but that was ok, that's why they were here. When Eddie landed, he lay in his spot for quite some time. He needed a good rest after that spectacle.
    Happy Fourth of July!

Victory of the Little Flower

    "Now that's what I call a court of thorns and roses!" Saint Gabriel announced when the fight ended.

    Guardian angels chased the remaining snakes slithering about the arena while Saint Michael held the Little Flower's hand in the air to angelic and saintly cheers from the crowd.

    "That was truly a fight to be remembered for eternity! Let's see that final round on replay!" the messenger continued.

    Above all the choirs showed the intense last round of the fight. Ireland's own released hundreds of serpents from his sleeves, intent on cornering the Carmelite, but she had tricks up her own sleeves.

    "Well now we know what happened to all those serpent's Pat 'drove out' huh Raph?" Gabriel said.

    Saint Raphael rolled his eyes and ignored the obnoxious archangel.

    The screen showed the little nun backing up into the corner until she was nearly out of bounds. But before the snakes could strike, she closed her eyes, muttered something under her breath, then called thorny vines up through the ground. They snared the serpents, preventing any from reaching her.

    St. Patrick looked concerned; he was clearly counting on that play to secure victory.

    Before he could make another move though, St. Therese leaped into the air. Pink smoke and razor sharp rose petals began swirling around her as she powered up for her ultimate attack. Then with a heavenly shockwave, she unleashed the petals at her opponent. They rushed toward him, and when he tried to dodge, the vines grabbed his legs, rendering him immobile.

    The attack lasted until he could resist no longer. He dropped to the ground and succumbed to defeat. When victory was announced, the whirlwind settled, and the vines retracted. The snakes slithered about without direction and the guardian angels began clearing them away for the post-match interview.

    The screen itself retracted; there was no debate. St. Therese of Lisieux was the clear winner, and St. Patrick, once he recovered, conceded. Saints Louis and Zelie were shown on the Jumbotron, clearly quite proud of their little girl.

    As St. Patrick retreated to the locker rooms, he passed St. Cecilia tuning her Stradivarius. "You're next in the bracket Cece. Good luck against those vines! I couldn't get past them."

    "Thanks Pat, good effort out there!" she replied, then left to retrieve something of her own. She returned a minute later with a case holding a bigger instrument.

    "What's that?" St. Patrick asked.

    "Oh. . . a secret weapon. I think it might come in handy" she said with a menacing grin.

    St. Patrick's eyes widened, then he shrugged and retreated to the locker room.

Cosmic Bruno Returns Home

    The table cracked down the middle under Cosmic Bruno's bowling ball. The oaf always forgot how heavy his ball was compared to most peoples, and the weak tables of this land just couldn't support the weight of dark matter bowling balls.

    It was ok though, Cosmic Bruno's visit with his mother was over, and he'd be leaving Scotland that evening. The train ride back to Sagittarius A* was long, but he'd need the time to reflect on his dreadful performance at the Cosmic Bowling Galactic Championships.

Excelling Thegn

Bean Svellington

Ate beef wellington

After selling ten

Boats propelling hens

To their new lake-dwelling pen

To the club of spelling men

For their quite compelling offer of ten million yen.