15 Minute Writing Challenge (Just Write)

It has began...

Jason Aaron looks around the boards.

He does see his own name.

He wonders...
Is this really me is this myself is this the true writer of words that will one day leave a scar on every single hero in marvel.

He looks at the name and panics.

Who made me shorter and took away my beard and gave me a super wedge..

It was me I must confess...

Super Wedge man Jason.....

Unable to figure it all out Super Wedge man is called to the scene of Thor and his hammer i tiny peace of his old hammer still resides in his worthless gold hammers....

It is the peace he looks at and he thinks.

Did I do this did I destroy Thor...

He tries to pull his wedge out but it is in tight.

His fans are very upset.

I think I see the problem....

Thor cries...
I am unworthy and do not know how to fix this all we have is this little tiny piece of Mjolnir...

I am not wise enough to get the rest of it still in the suns core and Odin my all knowing father and all powerful can zap it to him but that would make sense.

So I am stuck with weapons that break and not smart enough to simply just get more of this metal out of the ground where it has been for eons and eons.....

In the land of the dark Elf.

Wedge man cringes and he finds himself.

He breaths in deep and then I see my 15 minutes has made me stop my rant...

I then poof the powers of super wedge man away Jason finds himself back at the computer no knowledge of the night his adventures and a huge pair of spandex with the powers of the wedgy lay across his bed.

All the world waits.

Will Thor use his god like powers to save the day.

Will he fight like the beast that he is...

Or will he cry like a baby yet again saying how unworthy he is and wonder when jane will save him....

Stay tuned as you hear Jane ask...

Super Wedge Jason....

Do you know what your doing?.

Not to reader at no time did Jason ever leave his meditation chamber where he is currently sleeping and thinking up odd stories for marvel. The girl that could fly with only the powers of her pinky toe , the boy whom knew everything but was so tiny he could only whisper in the ear chamber or Reed Richards thus giving him his smarts. The power of Thor the god of thunder...Who never uses any of it just likes to cry. The Jedi Knight and powerful Luke skywalker...who does not fight but loves to cook pasta. I bow to the thought that one day...

I will be a character lost in the winds of some strange book where I will have the power to mix popcorn with ice cream for a tasty treat that does not make you thirsty and will not have you gain weight.

I will be called...
Super cook......The man who fed Wedge man....

No sounds all wrong to me to.

Oh well back to the boards.

"Oh %$# me!" Julian yelped as the ground underfoot ominously clicked. "Guys!"

Dick, Anne, Georgina and Timmy stopped dead at their older cousins swearing, even Timmy the dog was surprised.

"What's happened?" asked Dick as he approached only to be waved away.

"I've stepped on a land mine," Julian stated. The five were mortified. It never even occurred to them that traipsing around disused Sethmoor Barracks than there would be live ordinance lying around.

"How do you know?" Anne asked. "It could be a stick."

"Should I step off to see if you're right?" Julian replied angrily, tear welling in his eyes.

Georgina slowly approached. "If it is a mine, we could get Timmy to dig under it."

"It could work," Dick shrugged as only ten year old boys can.

"And if it doesn't" Julian gulped.

The five went silent. The sun hung low in the sky. Anne snapped her fingers. "I've got it! We need equal weight."

"Huh?" Julian said.

"You weigh about eighty pounds right? Well we need to get something from around her that weighs the same, put it where you're standing and then you step off."

"Brilliant!" cried Dick. "And look, there's an old oil barrel over there."

Dick headed towards the barrel and then promptly exploded as he too stepped on a mine showering the group in chunks of charred child flesh. Timmy the dog bolted and in turn triggered another mine which turned the little dog into nothing more than mist. Anne screamed, Georgina screamed, Julian took a few steps back and promptly exploded as well. Terrified beyond comprehension Anne and Georgina fled like scaled cats and were soon blown to pieces by the minefield they'd stumbled upon.

the final pages of the last story by E Blyton, The Famous Five Go Boom!

@batkevin74: What prompted that?

@ficopedia: My dislike for the Famous Five and the need to write something

@batkevin74: I had to look them up. Sounds like cutesy stuff. Wikiepedia mentions that some references were taken out as the perceptions on them changed. Don't really care for that.

@cbishop: English kid adventure stories from the 50's, kinda like the original Scooby-Doo.

black rain, red stain

troubled over false beliefs, falling in the pit, abyss

living in a dream, blue trees and violett Leafs are falling, when they are passing by

my name was brought up, they start their discussion

arrogant, insane, mind blowing wealth and fame

its like living without emotions, surrounded by machines

doing their work in a regular fashion

the Light brings Love, Hope and Success

but they loiter in the darkness eating their fill

in comes the man, heartbroken without his heart he is no more

but even though they love the hate, he is keeping his distance and walking straight

while many are hurt stopped by the pain, emotionally unstable, they still pretend, believe in playing their foolish act till the end

because long past the shadow and long past the mirror, the true end awaits us guiding the surviving fruits on the only way to the Light

Touchstones exist only as a way to find one's way back from blindness, but such things are no longer needed here. There are no boundaries, there are no limits, there is only the law of infinite possibility. What use to find your way when any way is open? What use to look to the achievements of others when you in reality hold all possibility in you? Ignore the saints and sinners, follow your own compass, even should it lead you off a cliff. There are no uses for opinion, for past invention and former views. You are free. Act it.

So says the writing on the walls. What's left after, the parts nearest the body, are all stained in the predictable splatter of blood. Johannes Matthias Smith, 3rd generation immigrant from God knows where, has covered his room in the same cryptic, nonsensical writings we've found in every other suicide within a 200 mile radius. Me and Lucy are, again, entirely stumped by what the hell it all means. She's convinced it's some satanic cult they're all a part of, but none of the evidence links them together so clearly. None of them knew the others, not in any visible, concrete way, anyhow. Even more confusing, the same general message is repeated over and over, but in different words. If this were a cult we'd see more uniform vocabulary, the stump speeches they hear at the ceremony taking form in their own delirious writings, but there's none of that. Just rambling on the same topic in different words, different styles, none of the hallmarks of organized religion or doctrine.

I scratch my head, the bald spot in particular is particularly pleasing, but when I look up I think I catch something out of the corner of my eye. Twin horns, crossed in horizontal lines and looping in and over one another like a double helix, ending in singular jagged tips, the cuts glowing an ominous red. It's not satanic though, nothing so animal, it looks as though it were architectured, fixed by human hands...

I try to focus in on it, to get a good look, but when I turn to look at it dead on its already gone. I tell Lucy to get outta there, call it a day. Don't know why I did that, but the writing just calls for privacy.

Sensation Mystery!

The Multiverse is big with it's many Earths that dot its star-scape ,Though The Multiverse is vast in it size as well,in fact there are some Earths that some may say that they are unknown, But no matter what Earth your talking about there is one thing they all have in common, they have a Superman. Until Now.Because ours has gone missing.

I never find the time to write anymore. Let me stop myself.

My name is Clark Kent as you know. I can fly move fast and lift heavy things.

I try to inspire people to get them to do great things yet.

I fail more times then achieve that goal.

As Superman, I can change the course of mighty rivers and move ships.

Yet it is as Clark Kent I can do my most good, I can let people see a better way and lead the thirsty to water and give them the reason to drink deep.

To write or not to write that is my question.

Who is Superman who is the bigger hero?

If your ever thirsty for something and your lost and your wondering.

What should I do?

I mean you could wait on me as Superman or you could look up one of my many blogs.

How to be a better partner or how to get that great job or how to fight the good fight and be a good American.

Even how to be proactive on planet Earth.

As I write this I am lost to the very notion that people know that a hero is somebody willing to give all to save others.

Yet sometimes you do cannot give it all as the saying goes you cannot and you should not.

A dead man is not a hero for those who come after are the ones who fight the villains who take on the evil and living is the answer.

It is the way it is all we know.

If you die you do not have to raise the children do not have to fight the enemy do not have to tell anybody how you sacrificed anything to save them.

You cannot speak and those left behind become your voice your storyteller your soul.

As the saying goes that history is written by those who live to tell the tale.

The pen is made mighty by history and those that forged a bloody path across the globe.

Killing and enslaving the people.

As I write this I am about to embark on a quest but you reading it will be targeted and your life is no longer safe.

I Clark Kent will disappear and so will Superman but one day we may meet.

The resistance will contact you and when all the universe comes into alignment we will talk again.

You will call me an ally and the stars will fall from the sky and the sea will turn to blood and we will be locked in a battle to save the universe from.. Itself.

I close my letter as a warning to you...

Stay away from the shadows, watch the moon beware of the space between tics of the clock.

You will know what I mean when it all begins to fall apart.

Live and breath in the moments between war and peace for peace is about to end.

I used to work for a top secret military facility with about 38 of us all working on one common goal, time travel. As a child I always wanted to be able to travel back in time to see history itself, I always dreamed of meeting King Arthur and the knights of the round table, I always wanted to be able to see what happened at the dawn of time. That was our mission, to find solid evidence of how our world came to be, how our universe came to be. I wish we hadn't of even tried.

We had every single item, chemical and element to our disposal until one day I had an idea. I am not going to share too much information as I do not want anyone to ever re attempt this. We built something called a particle fission device and then paired it up with a Nuclear Particle Reactor. I was part of the team expected to go 'back in time' to research how the universe came to be. We powered up the time machine unsure it would work so we sent 18 GPS chips in and sure enough when we attempted to locate them we had an extremely faint signal which we picked up from a satellite near Jupiter. I was then sent in. Everything was dark and my flashlight didn't work, there was no sun, no moon, no planets and no stars. I did a full 360 turn but saw nothing, I looked down and saw a very faint distant yellow light. I attempted to use my radio but had a sharp high pitched noise return instead. I slowly hovered to the light to see it was one of the GPS' I then began to hover back up to the portal to go back to the future but saw a dark mass sweep past it. I realised that I was breathing heavily as I was scared so I tried to move back to the portal as quickly as possible and then I saw it. The dark mass appeared in front of me, I looked at it and it released a blood curdling scream, I looked away and saw that I was in a room with this dark entity, I ran to the portal and it spoke.

"Before life, there was death. And before death there was nothing. There is no salvation. When your life ends you will join us."

When I returned they shut the program down and destroyed every single molecule which was to do with the mission.

The universe has a sense of Humor

The gods have a sense of humor and it is seen in the infinity stones. The day has arrived when Thanos has gained all the stones. He has the power to destroy half the universe or even the whole universe with a snap of his hands. Why stop at half. Why not destroy it all and remake it as you please. With built-in his and her hand towels, everybody gets a car. Thanos thinks about the last one and decides he no longer allows the Oprah show to play on the ship even in the background. It simply messes with his head. But he ponders the color of his car he would receive. Blue he thinks baby blue. He feels the universe around him he knows all the players he pulls them out of hiding. Infinity and eternity and Galactus. He binds them with a thought. He is god now and he controls all. He will say what happens and what does not.

Thanos smiles as he looks at the Avengers all dead every single one of them.

He pulls Odin from his chair with the power of the stones.

Look at your son I did that the almighty Thanos.

Odin frowns and Thonos simply brushes him aside with a wave of his hand.

The power is making him drunk. He does everything he has ever wanted.

He plays pool with planets he makes a computer the size of his ship but it has a galaxy at its core.

Then he goes online and plays world of Warcraft.

He has no clue the universe has a sense of humor none at all.

Step outside the bubble you see Thanos with a lost look on his face as all the Avengers are lost at what to do.

He placed the glave on his hand and simply stopped and stood still.

Nobody could touch him or get close.

He existed in a universe all in his mind. Doing whatever he dared dream up in some self-imposed reality.

Eternity and Odin waved at each other.

We will let him out one day but the truth is the stones have no power what so ever.

They are just colored stones and pieces of glass.

We do this from time to time it breaks the boredom of being immortal after all.

Clap their hands and Captian America finds himself at home in the avenger mansion.

He has to wonder.

Are the gods messing with us all?

Time will tell.

He wondered what color car Oprah would send him.

Ragnarok (again)

The wise men say things that they want you to listen to but the truly wise man does things he wishes you to pay attention to.

Because words are powerless things that will change nothing but actions forge hammers and spears and blood is shed by actions. Heroes are born in the furnaces of hell and they reach out to the heavens and they scream... Am I worthy am I truly worthy.

I am The all father, I am Odin the wise the warrior the one that figures you see old and fragile is all a ruse a lie. I never age I never grow tired and I never tell you to fight I show you the battle.

In the millions of years of my life, I have shown the humans life I have breathed into them the essence of creation only to watch them fail and fall again and again and again.

How many times must I walk the cold dead worlds just to see them fall again?

Pride comes it becons to them and when pride screams its loudest they fall the hardest.

Once I was a harsh god harsh and mean and I destroyed the world only to have to make it again and again and again.

Many times after that I did what anybody would do.

I learned to hide in the winds to inspire the warriors to lend ear to the poets and music and magic.

Through it all my sons and daughters and lesser gods walked the worlds talked to the beast and weaved stories like no other before.

I watch them as they come into the world and I watch them go.

I see the souls and break bread with the warriors in life as well as after.

How does one do what I do and not take some small amount of pride in those below?

The life you breathe into them the fire that is the soul.

Look here as my sons go out to keep the spirit alive.

What spirit you ask? The spirit of adventure the ride of lifetimes.

I dare the webs of life to change I dare the creation of the things to expand I breath in the direction of the planets and all creation springs to life.

Let the pieces of the puzzle become so much more than the battles of yesterday.

Let us change the rules and dare humanity to step up to the plate and scream for more.

I walk into the room at the avenger mansion they do not know me they have no clue I have been with them so long.

Hawkeye they scream and bow as they know always my pleasure to play the game.

I sit at the bar and my drink of choice comes to me from the fair-haired warrior Black Widow. More than once have I brought her back to life back to the living none the wiser nobody had a clue.

All but Thor that is but he swears not the tell.

She would make a great valkerie one day and from time to time I have made her such. This is after one of many times going down this path. I never get tired of this group always wanting more always ready for battle.

The new path is about to open the worlds about to merge the sense of doom sits in the air. Thor looks at me and I wink.

Be ready Thor I say be thee ready.

Out in space, they say you can see thinks the approach for miles away. But not this planet that uncloaks before the earth.. it is miles away yet its effects shake the plates. I calm them, I use the force I stable the world. My bow Mornings Whisper screams for blood the skies are flooded with ships the creatures swarm.

I tell Tony Stark to put his plan into effect.

All the people of earth listen up.

Tony Stark has been selling travel armor. Nobody owned cars anymore they had armor they wore it they traveled in it they explored. It was thought that the armor was just simple material made to get a fast sale but with a few words, Tony unlocked the full ability of every single suit in the world.

From victims to warriors in the time it takes to make a cup of coffee or what I prefer Ale.

I get into the role of the ages and dodge and weave and fight with all I have. Thor and Hulk take the fight to the brink.

Cry havoc as somebody once said but the hounds of war have been sleeping for so long that they do not get to play. I play the music in my mind with the worlds on the brink is this the Ragnarok I sought after but no it is not but what fun it is.

One arrow shot into space takes its time and the creatures attack me it comes back tenfold and hundreds of them fall.

I see Loki casting spells and Scarlet Witch throwing out chaos magic the slow-motion dance I call Black Widow to me and unleash her full potential as a Valkyrie but she will forget after the battle.

The storms of the Hulk brow more angry as they come closer I fling him into space toward the angry planet. Smash my green friend smash away. He does that and more his rage seen as a sign that makes the demons scream for help. They all turn and fly up into the heavens to see if they can defeat the angry one. Hulk and Thor go toe to toe with those that carry the cursed blades the hellfire the silent wisp of chaos supreme.

Who notices as I repair the damages of the fight and join them on the brink on the very second all seems lost.

I am Odin after all and this time I sit on my eight-legged horse bow in my hand shooting an arrow into the heart of the beast that wages war for eternity.

How soon they forget and we find yourself eating food drinking mead and telling tales around the table of heroes.

I am Hawkeye again and this time we move past the end to another story another version of life.

This time we saved the day.

I wonder for how long?

Think Like A God

He has come to be called the god killer. Holder of the necro sword he has killed so many gods.

The blood falls from the skies onto those below them. Followers of the god's followers of the weak.

He comes to be in anger he comes to me and he is indeed powerful but I have taken this moment to honor the Silver Surfer to honor him as he said.

On this day you cannot fight. Promise me you will not do battle with your hammer or your weapons of any kind.

So once every thousand years I honor him and this day I wish I had not.

I wish I could unleash the power to flow with the rage to defeat he who killed many powerful gods.

I keep my promise as the god slayer comes forward faster then any being ever I smile.

To counter power with thought is the way of any true god.

So I counter the power I step from the plane and look back on him who thinks power is about universal truths.

They are not.

I use the tools of my brother Loki and my father Odin.

I whisper to the fundamental of the universe I change everything.

He stops in space unable to breath unable to move.

I have changed all that is into whatever I wish it.

Just for him I control it all.

Just for him, I strip the sword from him I take it apart atom by atom until all that remains is a memory of what was.

I look the god slayer in the eye and I see fear.

Who are you to me mortal? he who would make gods forget the power they have over creation.

You use a tool of the gods but that does not make you a god.

I send him to the other world with one thought on his mind.

How did he lose so easily?

I answer his question with the truth.

Your a mortal trying to fight gods. They should have never played your game never stooped low enough to give you power.

I step back into the real time the real space.

I made a promise not to battle with weapons this day and every thousand years I keep that promise.

Had I not made that promise I may have lost myself and all who count on me to keep them safe.

The sword and the god butcher are no more.

I weave the spells of the afterlife calls the beings back into this reality and I asked.

How is it such a small light did damage to all of you.

Did you forget who holds the power of life and death in their hands?

I turn my back on them and walk through my portal back to Asgard.

The power of a god.

To fight the good fight but sometimes you simply step away and refuse to play by the rules of the mortal world.

This is our true might.

Long has he dreaded this day. If it were up to him; he would return to the surface and help in the culling of the damage. But to do so now would be a showing of weakness. One that he could not bear to show.

Since he was a child; there had been numerous attempts on his life. To bow to the surface world now would only insure their increase.

For me it was an episode of Barney, of all things. I didn't care about the purple lump, or AJ. I just liked Baby Bop. That's a digression though. In this one episode, Barney was teaching us about the dangers of crossing streets without an adult. I remember Barney standing at a fake street, with a little boy at his side. Barney was saying something about looking both ways, and I was nodding along as if he could see me soaking up this wisdom.

This was about half-way through the episode, when the TV signal fuzzed out a little (this was before we had cable) and then the picture started to roll. Barney started looking kinda weird, like he was half stretched out, and his voice became low and distorted. "Look riiight and LLLL----eft, and r-r-r-r-r-right ag-g-g-g-g-g--g-g-g-////// before trying to-to-to- cross the street." It was then that Barney turned to the camera and said "Is-is-is yourrrr parents out-out-out of the rrrroom?" This took me a little back, but being a kid I just nodded instead of, I dunno, screaming.

(I actually wrote this in 2019, on paper, during a Year 5/6 class who had to do creative writing based on words that give minimal inspiration. A kid called Donnie was given candles and looked at me with a face that read "What the actual f%^$?". So I said it's doable, you just gotta be creative. And this was what I wrote in a limited time and grossed a bunch of school kids out)

I wake up by candlelight, my hands throbbing, aching, burning. I try to move but I'm unable to...I'M CHAINED TO A CHAIR! I scream but it's muffled due to something covering my mouth. It tastes like wet dog and makes me pant like one as I can't close my mouth properly.

"Good evening."

The voice from behind me was like chains dragged across gravel. Slowly coming into my periphery was a gaunt, wrinkly man dressed in brown clothes. "Comfortable?"

I try to answer; I really try to yell and escape but nothing happens. He merely nods as if he heard me.

"My thoughts exactly." He says as he sits opposite me. It dawns on me that I'm at a table. On the table between us are candles of various sizes. They're strange shapes. They have fire but don't really look like candles. They look more like fingers...

Slowly it dawns on me why my hands hurt!

I attempt to scream again. The man smiles as he simply watches me they way cats watch injured animals.

"When the light goes out on these candles," he says calmly. "I shall start on your toes."

A/N Found this on an old doc. I think it was a Halloween contest entry that never made it. Lets call this... The Showman's Daughter

2020, November, Friday the 13th

New Orleans, La.

Angelica Brunt was a showman, like every Brunt before her, tracing their roots all the way back to New York and the patriarch 'Brom Bones'. The Brunts had been circus performers, animal trainers, trick shooters and actors, to list a few occupations, and always on the move from one state to the next, never staying longer than a generation or two. Angelica had taken to the modern stage with her unique performance, AKA the internet. Her pony show as a paranormal investigator. It was shockingly easy work to pull off, even easier than her psychic reading gig. Find a spooky location, -old hospital, graveyard, any woods anywhere- talk into the camera a bit, then react fearfully when someone offscreen made a random noise.

It was bad enough that internet people believed the nonsense, but even more astonishing, if possible, were the people Angelica interviewed for b-roll. Small town loony birds that swore by their local myths. Ghost dogs, shadow demons, tall guys in suits creeping around the woods. In over thirty 'investigations' she had never found anything supernatural. One could argue that she wasn't really looking, but she wasn't a real investigator either, she was an internet personality, and she planned to milk a season out of this gig.

(Cold Opening)

“What did you do, Jerry!” Rick screamed as he tossed a handful of exploding devices behind him as the Smith family took cover in the living room. Morty flipped the couch as they all hid behind it.

“Who keeps Sea Monkey’s in the fridge?” Jerry whined as several spears and tomahawks flew over their heads.

“It was an experi*urp*ment!” Rick yelled.

“Dad! You’re supposed to do it in the garage!” Beth said as she grabbed a spear and threw it back.

“I was going to the mall!” Summer barked. “But noooo!”

“Shut up Summer!” Morty snapped as he handed Rick several doohickeys and gizmos. “Sea Monkey’s Rick, geez?”

“Haven’t you ever wondered if *urp* Planet of the Apes had a Kevin Costner style film? It was a microcosm, self-contained and IN THE FRIDGE, no thanks to Jerry!” Rick clicked the pieces together to make an IED with a green glowing core. Axes, spears and arrows rained down. Rick stood up and threw the device at the horde of militant Sea Monkey’s erupting from the open fridge like a sentient geyser.

“Will that work, Grandpa?” Summer asked.

“It better otherwise I am slipping into another dimension,” Rick muttered. There was a boom followed by a sucking sound as a portal enveloped the kitchen and sucked the threat away. Jerry looked at the mess.

“And who is going to fix that?”

Rick lurched forward and glared at him with murderous intent. “YOU! Get a job! God!”

Star Wars Episode 3

“You are under arrest, my lord.” Mace Windu held his purple lightsaber directly at Chancellor Palpatine’s throat. “Don’t make this an execution.”

“You threaten me?” Force lightning crackled from his fingers and shot forth. Windu parried the attack with his weapon and the Force; hold his own against the searing blast. The Sith Lord cackled maniacally as he tried to electrocute him. Mace grimaced. Slowly he took one hand off his weapon as he grabbed hold of the Force like a tangible thing and swatted the prone man out the broken window. Lightning continued to shoot out.

“FOOL!” Palpatine roared as he focused his powers to keeping himself aloft nearly a mile above the streets of Coruscant. “Now you will feel the true power of the Dark Side!”

Windu didn’t wait to see. He threw his lightsaber at the floating man. The purple blade spun end over end before embedding deep into his chest. The weapon made skin and clothing sizzle and pop. Palpatine looked at the wound in confusion.

“No…” he gasped as he clutched at the hilt. That severed his concentration and he began to fall. The mortally wounded Sith screamed and fired more lightning from his fingers, falling towards the ground at terminal velocity.

“Where is Palpatine?!?” bellowed Anakin Skywalker as he burst into the room. Mace Windu looked at the young Jedi and pointed out into the air before stumbling away. Anakin dashed to the dangerous edge, peering down to see a purple speck falling. “What did you do?”

“What needed to be done,” Mace wheezed. “The Sith reared their head and I cut it off!”

“Rupert Giles?”

The librarian of Sunnydale High adjusted his glasses as he looked up from the time he was perusing. “Yes?”

FBI agent Fox Mulder held up his identification as he gazed around the room. “What an eclectic collection.”

“Is there something wrong officer?” Giles stood up and adjusted himself in several places.

“Agent...” Mulder spied a book on crop circles and flipped it open. “We’re just agents...”

“And how can I help you, Agent Molder?”

Fox shut the book. “Vampires.”

Giles was a tad shocked by the statement but smiled it away. “Folklore or fiction? But what we have here in Sunnydale pales to the...”

“Library of Congress,” Mulder interjected as he thumbed through another book. “Been th...”

“I was going to say Library of Birmingham, but you made your own mind up,” Giles snipped. Walking into the Library was Agent Dana Scully.

“Mulder, be nice.” It was almost a command. She smiled and walked up to Giles. “Agent Dana Scully, FBI. We have some questions for you Mr. Giles in relation to an old case that has resurfaced.”

“Vampires.” Mulder added as he wandered up the stairs.

“Vampires?” Giles repeated. “I’m not qu...”

“You are not going to believe what happened last night on patOOPS, sorry, my bad!” Buffy Summers looked awkwardly around the room as they looked at her and the duffel bag she dumped on the table. “Hi!”

“You will have to come back later, Buffy,” Giles said with added eyebrows to indicate now was NOT the right time.

“Agent Scully, FBI,” Dana said showing Buffy her credentials.

“Buffy Summer, former cheerleader!”

“What’s in the bag?” Mulder asked as he got up on a step ladder to look at some other books.

“Gym stuff, sweaty clothes, girl stuff,” Buffy rambled. “Best go off to...”

“Buffy!” Willow Rosenberg cried as she ran into the room. “We’re late for gym! Oh, hello.”

“You said those were gym clothes,” Dana pointed at the bag on the table.

"I am in position."

"Standby Agent Molniya..."

Sergei Molniya looked at his watch. It was three minutes to three a.m. The target, one Carl Smithly, was on the other side of the door, sleeping soundly in the Air B&B they'd rented here in Zurich. Smithly was an accountant who'd been working in London on behalf of the Ukranian mob and he'd gotten greedy. He dipped into the honey one too many times and they noticed...and when the Ukrainians notice you usually end up dead. Smithly called Interpol offering to expose them in exchange for safety, which is when the Federal Security Service of the Russian Federation or FSB was alerted and decided to end the problem themselves. Which is why Spetnatz Agent Sergei Molniya was waiting.

"Stand down."

Sergei tapped his earpiece in disbelief. "Say again."

"Stand down."

Sergei gritted his teeth as he tightened his grip on his Baikal IZH-79-8 pistol. "Underst..."

The door of the apartment slowly opened. Sergei stepped back and kicked it open knocking the person on the other side flying backwards. He stormed in and held his weapon on the American special forces member lying on the floor clutching his nose.

"Control, I have Americans."

"Which is why you were told to stand down, Agent Molniya!"

The man in black went for his weapon, a bulky HK MP7, and Sergei reacted as he'd been trained to. He put a bullet into the man's leg and another in the stomach in rapid succession. The fleshy thigh exploded like a balloon full of meat, the stomach bit deep but went flat against the kevlar body armour.

"I'M HIT!" yelled the American as he writhed in pain.

"Agent Molniya?"

"I'm busy!" Sergei hissed back to the voice in his ear as he stepped forward and sharply kicked the man square in the jaw.

(Both of these combined should've taken me less than 15 mins...but I was in the middle of marking trivia and playing Angry Birds and drinking wine so it got split into two. Where's this thing going? No idea, but the idea is basically a Russian James Bond/Jack Bauer agent)

Sergei checked the man's neck for a pulse. It was there, unlike his front teeth. He prised the earpiece off him and put it to his own ear.

"...mation, over."

Sergei gritted his teeth, exhaled and spoke into the device in his best American accent. "Repeat please."

"Do you have confirmation, over."

Sergei

@batkevin74: You've been busy. I liked the Revenge of the Jedi piece. I'll have to read the Sergei ones later. :)

@cbishop: I've been doing that writing thing :)

There was a knock at the door. Bert groaned, got up from his bed, and leisurely walked from bedroom to the front door of his house just as another knock came. He opened the door to reveal Ernie standing there with a huge smile.

"Wha- what... do you want, Ernie? It's six in the morning." Bert said.

"Well, we've been apart for five years, and I thought I'd come check on you." Ernie replied.

"I'm fine, Ernie. Can we talk about this later?"

"Sure, Bert. But, what's with that bruise on your face?"

"What bruise?" Bert asked, yawning.

"This bruise!"

Wham! Bert is sent flying through the air, into multiple walls of his one-story house, and into the ground, upheaving concrete street. Ernie punched him so hard and fast, that Bert couldn't react in time.

Suddenly, Ernie teleported exactly where Bert landed, shoving a kick downward toward Bert's chest. But Bert was ready this time and flipped out of the way, onto his feet a few yards away.

"Ernie! What the hell?!" Bert yelled.

"This is for all the times you've hurt me!" Ernie bursts with golden energy just as his hair turned bright yellow and eyes lit up in emerald green. Electricity sparked around him and throughout his aura.

Bert grinned, erupting in white and blue energy with dots of blue, as his hair and eyes turned silver. Ultra Bert is here to finally put Super Ernie in his place. Both leaped at each other, exchanging enhanced puppet strength and speed, throwing energy orbs every chance they got. They were equal, and neither would let off; the quicker one got, the quicker the other caught up.

Buildings collapsed, cars overturned and exploded, people and animals alike disintegrated in the heat of their battle. Clouds evaporated, and even the sky turned black for a moment. The two covered many miles in less than a second, uprooting trees, bashing through mountains, and the ocean parted briefly. Then, they soon found themselves in space, within the atmosphere, breathing and sweating profusely.

"You- you've gotten... better, Bert." Ernie said, trying to catch his breath.

"You- you, too... Ernie." Bert responded. "But now, I have to end this!" Bert screamed, powering up further and encasing himself in green energy, while Ernie matched him yet with pink energy.

After a minute of these Godly Puppets reaching the pinnacle of their power, they were finally at the end of their deep-seeded hatred for each other. They unleashed energy surrounding their fists and charged straight-on, directly for one another. As their fists collided, a massive surge sprang out, engulfing the whole Universe and destroying everything. Including themselves.

The end.

He had finally done it. After years of joking about it, off handily playing with the idea, and on at least one occasion lying about it-- he had struck a proposition with a lady of the evening.

Yes he knew the danger and the stigma. It was the danger of discovery mingled with a newfound lust that made his heart beat faster than normal.

The seductress of sin slunk towards the bed, shedding her outfit like a snake losing its silken skin. Placing one hand on his chest she shoved him backwards on the bed, straddling the poor guy. He had no idea what was coming for him.

Her wild hair fell down around her head, curtaining her face, and as she drew ever near he heard her whisper the most dreadful words of his life. "This hot shhh is brought to you by Raid Shadow Legends."

@wildvine: I was laughing my way through that, because I figured that knowing you, it would take a turn at the last minute, and boy, did it! Not sure what "Raid Shadow Legends" is- I'll have to Google that one.

Edit: Ah, a game- got it. :)

The sky outside was beautiful in its dreariness. Lukas Silver leaned against the wall near the window and stared through the glass, out into the night. A clash of thunder and streak of silver lighting, finally bringing him temporarily from his musings, as they would so often occur.

@lunnara_rose: did that really happen?!? Thats greaky

Dngn4774 posted his own thread for this during the posting bug. Just linking it here: A little blurb (Just Write). :)

A Logical Beginning...

“Spock, tell Owen that if he gets a translator to be sure it speaks Bocce.” Beru’s voice echoed from the underground to the young man above.

“I shall.” Spock briskly walked over to a portly man in his late 50’s; dressed in brown & beige with sand scarred skin from decades out here on the Tattooine dunes. A few metres away was a massive Jawa sandcrawler, a huge mechanical transport that these desert scavengers used as a mobile home. The little creatures rolled out half a dozen droids to be inspected by the prospective clients.

A Jawa muttered at Owen as he pointed at a tall golden droid. Owen shook his head. “I suppose you're programmed for etiquette and protocol.”

The droid shuffled towards him. “Protocol? Why, it's my primary function, sir. I am well-versed in all the customs...

“I have no need for a protocol droid.” Owen waved a hand. “I already have someone who is prim and proper. What I really need is a droid who understands the binary language of moisture vaporators.”

“Vaporators? Sir, my first job was programming binary load lifters, very similar to your vaporators in most respects.”

Owen squinted. “Can you speak Bocce?

“Of course I can, sir, it's like a second language to me. I was...

“All right, shut up.”

Spock came up beside Owen. “Beru has asked me to relay that if you are to get a translator then it must speak Bocce.”

“I do indeed speak Bocce,” the droid piped up. “As I was telling your father…”

Spock looked the droid right in the eye circuits. “This man is my nonrelated carer, not my father.”

“I do beg your pardon…”

Owen rolled his eyes. “Okay enough chit-chat. Hey you, I’ll take this one and that red one.”

The Jawa garbled away waving its arms as several others ushered the droids about for the purchase.

“I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations.” The droid introduced himself, the young man with the expressionless face and pointed ears nodded. As they walked back towards their underground home, the red and white robot exploded. Spock walked over to it and examined the damage.

“Interesting. It seems this R2 unit has a malfunctioning motivator.”

“Hey, what are you trying to push on us!?” Owen snapped at the tall Jawa who responded in apologetic screeches and bleeps.

“It seems the smaller blue unit may serve our purposes better.”

Owen looked at what Spock was pointing at. “Okay, we’ll take that one.”

“You should be pleased with him,” C-3PO said. “He’s really in first class condition, I’ve worked with him before.”

Spock simply looked at the golden robot before turning and walking back towards home. The two droids followed along.

“Now don’t you forget this R2,” C-3PO scolded the smaller unit. “Why I should stick my neck out for you…”

@batkevin74: Is Really short part of the Gorgon story you were writing here?

@ficopedia: Ummm no idea

"Really short" is linked- "Gorgon" was the name of your prison with Grigori and crew. Wasn't sure if Really Short connected or not.

Continued

C-3PO lowers himself into a large tub. “Thank the maker! This oil bath is going to feel so good. I've got such a bad case of dust contamination, I can barely move!”

Spock looks at him curiously. “Your statement is incorrect. You do have dust contamination, but the severity isn’t what would be classified as bad. More inconvenient. As for an inability to move…”

R2-D2 beeped loudly and Spock approached him studying the little droid. “You have an excess of carbon scoring. Were you in close proximity to blaster fire?”

“With all we've been through, sometimes I'm amazed we're in as good condition as we are, what with the Rebellion and all.” C3PO emerged from the oil bath and began cleaning off the excess.

“The Rebellion against the Imperial Empire?”

“That's how we came to be in your service if you take my meaning. And I am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations, and this is my counterpart, Artoo-Detoo.”

“I am Spock.”

“I see Master Spock.”

The young man shoots him a stern look. “Just Spock.”

__

Princess Uhura of Alderaan is led down a low-ceilinged hallway by a squad of armoured stormtroopers. Her hands are bound in front of her and she is having trouble keeping up with the briskly marching troops. They round a corner of the starship and head down another corridor when Darth Vader emerges from the shadows. He stares at, the cold black visage of the mask giving away no emotions. The young princess stares back at the very tall warrior. “Lord Vader, I should have known. Only you could be so bold. You've attacked a diplomatic...”

“Don’t play games with me, your highness.” Vader steps closer to her. Several transmissions were beamed to this ship by Rebel spies. I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you?”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” She protested. “I'm a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to Alderaan...

“You're a part of the Rebel Alliance... and a traitor. Take her away!” The Sith Lord roars at her making her flinch. Several stormtroopers march her away.

An Imperial Commander address Darth. “Lord Vader, the battle station plans are not aboard this ship! And no transmissions were made. An escape pod was jettisoned during the fighting, but no life forms were aboard.”

Vader seethes. “She must have hidden the plans in the escape pod. Send a detachment down to retrieve them.”

__

Spock cleans up R2D2 when the scoring tool dislodges some caked carbon when a twelve-inch three-dimensional hologram of Princess Uhura Organa, appears in mid-air. The woman in white crouches and looks forward. “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope.”

An eyebrow raises on Spock. “What is this?”

Artoo sheepishly beeps an answer and C3PO translates the clicks. “Oh, he says it's nothing, sir. Merely a malfunction. Old data. Pay it no mind.”

“Judging by her tone and that she is asking for help, I do not believe it is nothing.”

“Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope. Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope.” The hologram glitches and repeats over and over.

“Do you know who this is?”

C3PO addresses the little droid. “He asked you a question…I think she was a passenger on our last voyage. A person of some importance, sir -- I believe.”

“There seems to be more of this recording.”

Artoo he lets out several frantic squeaks and a whistle.

“Behave yourself, Artoo!” C3PO states. “You're going to get us in trouble. It's all right, you can trust him. He's our new master.”

Artoo whistles and beeps a long message to Threepio. “He says that he is the property of Obi-Wan Kenobi, a resident of these parts. And it's a private message for him. Quite frankly, sir I don't know what he's talking about. Our last master was Captain Antilles but…”

“Obi-Wan Kenobi? He could be possibly referring to Ben Kenobi, who lives on the edge of the Dune Sea.”

Artoo beeps again. “Master Spock, R2 says the restraining bolt has short circuited his recording system. He suggests that if you remove the bolt, he might be ab…”

“There is no way a restraining bolt could interfere with the holographic playback; a restraining bolt merely inhibits movement. The message is for Obi-Wan Kenobi, not I.” Spock stood up. “I shall inform Owen that you will be ready to work on the south ridge by morning.”

@batkevin74: Nice. :)

Note: Post 294 was mine. I deleted it.

Nice.

Lmao.

Lol.