Unhappy Endings Episode 4

I can't move. My head is the only thing protruding above the pavement. "You're sick in the head woman. Leave me alone." I yell at the strange girl.
"I can't leave you alone, you see. It is part of destiny, Fate has decreed you only two paths. One path is the life of a glorious tool for good..."
"You mean a tool used to enslave the populace in some freaky drug induced... Ow." she stands up and kicks me in the side of the head.
"The other path is a path of destruction, which you seem to be following just now."
"its just a dream, its just a dream." I repeat trying to remind myself. But the dream is so realistic. The pain in my skull is so sharp. "Ignore her and she will disappear, ignore her and she will disappear."
"Nice try Mr. McCasey. I'm not going away. I will haunt you till your judgment comes."

I am so tired. Night after night, she comes to me, traps me, tells me things I don't want to hear. Vanessa is worrying. She knows I am avoiding sleep now. The mental effects are bad enough, but I am feeling the physical effects too. My mind is distracted, at work, at home. It is like the dream of my sleep doesn't end, it just keeps trying to push into my mind when I am awake, it is taking more and more effort to keep focused on what is happening in the real world.

I sit in my office, alone. I take an aspirin. Luckily Harold is the only person who suspects my stress is from something other than the merger. Focus, I must Focus. Dear valued clients and partners, We are proud to report the statistical data from this last quarter... We are tired.. oops. We work tirelessly to bring you services that will maintain and even increase your over head in the pavement... ghah. increase your overhead savings. We have plans currently in the works that will help you fulfill your purpose as Fate... I put my head down on the desk. Focus, I must focus. I am better than this. I can control my mind. No one else controls it for me. I control my own fate. I sit up strait. and look out my office window. It feels like a good time to take a stroll around the company.

I make my way out the door and begin strolling through the cubicles. A bit of pride fills my heart to see such diligent workers who have all adopted the dream I created. A dream that has helped stretch the resources of thousands of corporations across America. Now we are working on developing corporate educational material. I head towards the R&D department. I arrive to see Harold standing there talking with the group. I step in behind Harold.
Harold quickly whips around at my entrance "Ahh, John. Welcome." Harold's eyes widen for a second but he tries to hide his surprise.
"Hello Harold. How are the educational materials coming along?"
"They are progressing nicely." Harold quickly grabs a few things off the table and begins trying to pocket them.
"What are those?" I can hear the tinkling of glass striking together.
"Oh nothing, it's nothing." From the looks on the developer's faces, it was not nothing.
"Well if it is nothing then surely you wouldn't mind showing me."
Harold looks around with the specific face of an opponent beaten. He takes a small brown bottle out of his pocket, labeled "relaxation". I look into Harold's eyes.
"You went to that woman again didn't you?"
Harold nodded, "Well since the one that gets rid of headaches worked, I wanted to test the other ones, So I decided to have our R&D take a look at them."
"Harold, I said I don't want any business with that woman."
"I will fund it out of my own pocket."
I look at the R&D employees and then back to Harold. "Come outside so I can have a private word with you Harold." Harold looks at the R&D team them back at me. We step outside. I speak in a calm voice. "Harold, I don't have a good feeling about these oils. You know how I am about Alcohol, drugs, and anything else that artificially alters your mental state. I think that some of these oils do that."
"Well then we can avoid the ones that alter the mental state and still distribute the ones that just give physical effect. Like the migraine one."
"We are not a medicine company Harold."
"We could do it as a sub company, a side project. These oils work, think of the opportunity."
"No Harold. We have enough on our hands as it is trying to manage the merger, we don't need something to distract us. We need to focus."
Harold looks at the floor and breathes heavily. "I guess you are right."

I head back to my office. It was good timing. I shake my head and try to clear my mind of the situation. I take a different path back to my office. I go through the cubicles and start running through the names of the employees just to keep my mind focused. Janice, Ben, Daniel, Jeffry, Maria, Isabelle, Trent, Joseph... Wait Trent. I remember the night with Jack. I take a step back and look into Trent's cubicle. He is a nervous redheaded fellow. Very efficient, very quick with the computer, and above all, the reason why I hired him is because he has a strong code of ethics. Trent ferociously flipped through the pages of a stack of folders and was quickly checking the monitor. Something seemed to be bothering him. He punched the keys on his various calculators.
"Hello Trent."
"SSHHt" he puts his hand out. he waves his pencil at the screen counting, then he pushes some buttons on his calculators, then he marks in the folders. I wait patiently as he goes through a few other motions until finally he scribbles something down on a paper. Then he sighs and sits back, he picks up the paper, looks at it, switches to a different window on the computer and frowns. He looks over at me. "Oh, Mr. McCasey. Sorry about that. Had I known it was you I'd have..."
I put my hand up "Don't worry about it. I am glad you are so intense in your work. I just had a personal question to ask you."
Trent raises an eyebrow and gives me a look that says, Huh.
"I just wanted to know if you have met my Wife or not?"
Trent scrunches up his face, concentrating, "I don't think I ever have, not on purpose no."
"So you've never been to my house?"
"Was I supposed to?"
I shake my head a little. "No, it is just that my kid said that a man named Trent has been coming over to visit my wife. I didn't think it was you, but I just wanted to make sure."
"Oh." he said. His eyes returned to his computer screen. "Nope, I've never met your family. Is that all you wanted to know?"
"Yeah, that is all."
"Well, Sir, could you look at this then."
I shrug and poke my head into his cubicle. "What is it?"
"I've been doing some accounting work and I have found that a lot of the bank transactions, the transactions that we have recorded on file, and the estimates, aren't all matching up at all. Currently, if some of the figures are right, they show differences of up to eight hundred thousand dollars. I have used every resource I have access too and I can't figure out where all these discrepancies have been coming from."
"Hmm." I try to think of a reason, but nothing is coming to me. Event the merger shouldn't have cause that large of a difference. "How about you give your mind a rest on the matter and I will look into it and see if I can find out what is going on."
"Well sir, the reason why I was looking is because I didn't have much else to do. So if you take this off my hands, I don't know what I would do with myself for most of the day. That would feel wrong. If you could grant me access to more information I might be able to find it myself. You could monitor everything I get into, and I would report what I find. Would that work?"
"It sounds reasonable enough. I will write you up a permission form. Good work Trent."

(Ok, Faithful readers, November fast approaches, and with it, the impending Nanowrimo. Because of this, the blog will take a month long hiatus. Well, from this story at least. I might put up excerpts from my Nanowrimo work, you know, to keep you all happy.)

Unhappy Endings Episode 3

Fatigue claws at my mind. I struggle to give the presentation. We are going to move this company forward by expanding our customer base. These are the companies we need to focus on. I must keep my mind focused. I look over at Harold, he looks like he had a rough night too. He holds his head... I must keep my mind focused. We can provide services that will help to save our customers money. I am tired. What a strange dream... Focus, Focus...

"Looks like you partied too much last night, eh Harold?" the presentation went well, despite Harold and I not feeling well.

"I didn't part at all last night. I just woke up with a pounding headache."

"Did you take an Ibuprofen?"

"Yeah, but it hasn't helped, I think it might be a migraine."

"Have you had those before?"

"Once or twice a year."

"Hmm, you never told me that you have migraines."

"It has been so long since I have had one, the subject never came up."

"Look if you need to go home today, I am sure Henry and William can pick up the slack..."

"Just hold a minute. Let me try one more thing." Harold pulls out a small brown bottle. "I must be nuts."

I stare at the bottle for a few moments, all of a sudden something feels weird. I can't place my finger on it. "What is that?"

"Its some sort of oil."

"You didn't get it from some crazy lady did you?"

"How'd you know?"

"She approached me yesterday as I was leaving. She said she wanted our company to market those oils."

"Weird eh... Like I said I must me nuts. But she said that this one can get rid of headaches. I might as well try it."

I watch as Harold opens the cap slowly and shakes some of the fluid onto his finger. Something still feels weird or wrong but without being able to tell why, I can't say anything against what Harold is about to do. He spreads the oil on his forehead. I watched him closely for a few moments.

"Anything?" I ask.

"I think you are supposed to give it a few minutes to kick in."

Harold closes the bottle and leans back and relaxes a bit. After a few minutes he sits up "Wow, this stuff works like a charm. I don't feel any pain in my head at all now."

"Hmm. Weird eh."

"Yeah, weird."

Harold just stares at the bottle. "I wonder how it works?"

"I don't know, I am not sure I want to know, something about that lady last night just seemed weird. I don't want to be doing business with her."

Harold gives me a look like I am crazy. He shrugs "If that is the way you feel about it. Ok."

I shake my head. "The day is still young. We have work to do."

"You don't look like you got a lot of sleep last night either John."

I freeze, I don't want to tell him about the nightmare. "I had some rough sleep. I'll be fine, don't worry about me." I walk out of the room with my briefcase under my arm ready to do what is needed. Focus... Focus...

I drive home, the clouds gather overhead. It looks like it may rain. "Figures" I say. It feels like I am in a bad scary story and that the weather is just adding to the mood. I park and sigh. Fatigue claws at my mind. I get out of the car and get to the door.

"Daddy..." the kids are pressing their faces to the window adjacent to the door. I can't help but smile. I come inside and drop my briefcase next to the door, that is how life should always be, a man comes home and he leaves his work at the door and doesn't pick it up till he leaves again. I crouch down and hug my children.

"Well hello," I say in a pleasant tone. "What are you all still doing up."

"They wanted to thank you for writing them those nice letters." Vanessa said while standing at the door.

"Is that so?"

"Thank you Daddy." the littlest one said.

"Don't feel bad Dad, we understand you have your responsibilities."

The children's words are sweet medicine for the soul. I talk with each one about their school. I ask how their friends are doing. But all too soon Vanessa finally chimes in that it is time to go to bed and the children are ushered to their rooms.

I try to sleep but bits and pieces of the nightmare play though my head. I hear someone walking along the hallway outside our room. It is probably Jack gone to get a drink as he normally does. Since I am awake I go and check it out. Sure enough it is Jack. "Are you getting a drink Jack?"

Jack looks at me and wipes at the sleepiness in his eye. "Yeah,"

"You having trouble sleeping?"

"Yeah."

I walk down the stairs with Jack and get into the kitchen, "Maybe I need a drink too."

"Are you having trouble sleeping Dad?"

"Yeah, I am."

I pour two glasses of water. We sit across from one another in the dim light and drink slowly. We are both tired and not thinking clearly.

"Do you know a man named Trent?"

My mind takes a few moments to process the question. I know a Trent at work, he is an accountant. I can't see how Jack could possibly know that Trent though. "I know a Trent, Why do you ask?"

"Mom has a friend named Trent. He comes over a lot. Mom says he's a business man like you." Jack pauses a bit, still thinking. "I wondered if he was your friend."

"Do you know if Trent works for me?"

"I dunno." Jack finishes his drink and puts his cup in the sink.

"I'll see if I know this Trent." I say.

"Ok." Jack yawns, "Night Dad."

"Night Jack."

Short Story episode two

I drive home a little unsettled at the strangeness of the event which has just occurred. I wonder if that oil vending woman was just crazy. Still, the meeting was unusual enough to become an unforgettable memory. I pull into the Driveway of my home and head inside. "I'm home Vanessa."
"Hello John." Vanessa said with a smile.
"Well don't you look gorgeous. Are you planning on going out?"
"Nope, I just like to look nice for you John. How was your party with Harold."
"He complained that there wasn't any alcohol."
"Well don't mind him. Just forget the stress of today and come and eat the dinner I prepared, I kept it warm."
I don't mind her attentiveness, the way she is always waiting to greet me the moment I come home, with her makeup on and looking beautiful just for me, yet it seems a bit excessive some days. She wasn't always like she is now.
"How are the kids?"

"They are asleep."

"I wish work didn't take up so much of my time."

"They understand honey. They still think of you as a good father."

"I hope so. I know how hard it was for me to grow up without my father."

"This is different though. Your father passed away when you were young. You are still here for your children."

I give a little nod. I am tired.

"Come to bed, you look tired."

I want to but I take some time to write letters to my children. It is sad that my work requires so much time that I can't even find time to be with my children. That is going to change. That has to change. I will delegate more of my work out, I just need the right people, I need to find the people with the right attitude. I finally go to bed and close my eyes and comfortably drift to sleep.

"This Oil here will help you fulfill your purpose in life Mr. McCasey." The lady said her voice colder than when we first met. A touch of anger lined her accent. I close the door on my car.

"How?"

"Fate has given us these oils. Fate can work through these oils. Fate can communicate through some of them. If you would spread the oil of communication on your cheek, your mind would begin to vibrate in sync with the cosmos and you would be able to truly understand the message I bring to you."

"You are lying to me." I shake my head. "Those oils are just like a placebo if anything."

"You are wrong Mr. McCasey, you could be the tool of much good in this world. It is sad that you pass up such an opportunity. There are many truths in the world yet so very few have ever found all of the important truths."

"I am not passing anything up except some psychotic drug induced fantasy."

"Tsk.. Tsk.. Mr. McCasey. I am sure glad there are other worthy candidates who will do the good in this world which you refuse to do."

"What other candidates, huh. Who would go along with your crazy plan?"

"Soon enough you will find out."

She takes out a small brown bottle.

"This is your last chance Mr. McCasey. This is your final warning. I suppose that if you still refuse then fate may still grant you favor. However this is your last to chance to choose the part of a king rather than a pawn."

"I will never choose your madness."

"OOOhhh. Tsk... Tsk.. Mr. McCasey, use the word never carefully. Well then you shall be a pawn, if you choose to be such before the last day. Don't choose too late." she uncorks the little bottle and turns it over upon herself. The contents poured down on her and she slowly begins to grow and to change into a great snarling beast. I watched in horror but my feet wont move. I looked down and I am slowly being sucked into the ground. The Beast laughs and jabs at me with a spear. My blood pours down upon the ground into which I am slowly sinking. Inch by inch my body becomes paralysed. I scream but no one could hear. Eventually my mouth dries, I am helpless. I vomit. The beast laughs again and as the ground is up to my neck.

"Too Late..." The beast says then raises a foot...

I wake up with a jerk. I feel cold. Sweat pours down my face. I am wet all over. My heart pounds. I check the clock, I have only slept a few hours.

"Honey are you alright?" Vanessa mumbles.

Breathing heavily I try to reply, "It's nothing dear.."

I try to go back to bed but I am worried I might have that dream again.

Guns.

(I wrote this a few weeks ago. I kind of went through a short morbid period, I didn't think of putting it up here but then I heard about some model who had been brutally murdered today and it made me think of this peice. From what I heard, the Model's killer, ripped out her teeth so that they couldn't identify her through dental records, stuffed her in a peice of luggage and dumped her somewhere. That was a real murder, that was real cruelty in action. It is sick, and it should make anyone think twice who has murderous intents in their heart.)

Guns. Guns have taken the creativity out of killing. All you do is point and squeeze, then boom, in a flash, in an instant, it is over, and there is no waiting, no mental struggling. It is over before you know what you are doing. This leaves plenty of time to regret and no time to pull out.
With knives, it could take much longer for the victim to succumb. You could be much more creative with a knife. The most creativity I have ever seen with a gun is the game of Russian roulette. Yes, it is true that moviemakers have tried to make guns more creative by having massive battles with guns. What they loose in finesse is made up in volume. However, in the end it all amounts to hundreds of wasted bullets and then one final instantaneous death blow. Not with knives, or poison, or a chord with which to strangle, or bare hands to choke and thrust beneath the water, those take time. Then there are those exceptionally creative fellows who use odd objects, farm implements, pickaxes, chainsaws, cars, fire, or the earth itself as their victim is buried alive.
*Sigh* You don’t hear much about creative murders anymore. All you hear in the news headlines these days is that someone was shot and killed or blown up by a bomb. I miss the old days. People would find dead bodies hanging from trees. People were found drowned by the crick. People were found torn limb from limb with cuts all over their body. Murder was something shocking back then. Murder was only capable by the truly twisted minds, the ones that would sit through the endless moments that it took for the victim to drown or bleed to death. Women would put their hands to their mouths and nearly faint when someone was murdered. Now the act of murder is all too commonplace for anyone to bat an eye at it. Now the act of murder is capable by any hot head with a 9mm piece of metal and one irrational moment.
Guns have ruined murder.

(now after this short interlude I will start working on the second epsiode of the short story)
~SB

The Short Story Episode one

(Let me first say, this is not a happy story. Be forewarned if you read through all the episodes.)

I sigh deeply. The view is beautiful, the sunset over the city from the forty-third floor is a sight I shouldn’t forget anytime soon, especially since I shall be seeing it more often now. I sip on my cold sparkling white grape juice and turn to my partner. “Cheers.”
“Cheers indeed.” Harold says back. “Why couldn’t you get some real drinks though?”
I shake my head, “A drink is a drink. It doesn’t matter. What matters is the occasion for the drink. Who would have thought that we really would have gotten as far as we have. Look at us now, Kings among men.”
Harold snorted “Kings drinking fake alcoholic drinks.”
“I never told you that you couldn’t go buy your own drink.”
Harold laughs, “I think I might do that later, I need a stiff one to celebrate this merger. I am still not sure how you pulled off merging your company with a larger company and still managing to haggle it so you would own a majority of the company and remain in undisputed control.”
I smirk a little “Well what can you say, so long as the other guys get what they want, I can have what I want. Seeing as how the other people only wanted money, it was easy to satisfy them. They knew how valuable the company was and they would do anything to get it, even giving up their control over their companies.”
“Weren’t they worried about you double crossing them and kicking them out of the company completely?”
“Of course they were worried. ‘Were’ is the key word though. They looked at all my records and they know that I am an honest man and that I wouldn’t dare to do renege on my deal. Like it used to be said of gentlemen of old times, my word is my bond.”
“I know that better than anyone. But do they trust me?”
“I trust you and that was enough for them.”
Harold sighed. “Kings among men indeed. I guess it is wise not to get drunk, my work desk will still be waiting for me in the morning.”
I lift my glass and nod. “Now you see my reasoning.”
“So what are your plans now? What are you going to do with the company now that you have all these added resources?”
I look at him and smile, “I will tell all in the board meeting tomorrow.”
“Aww no sneak peaks?”
“Nope… Sorry Harold.”
“Fine then, have it your way.” Harold said. We drink.
“It is going to take months to sort out all the logistics of the merger.” I state plainly.
Harold nods. “How did Vanessa take the news?”
“She’s happy for me but she also knows that this means I will be home a little less for the next several weeks. She isn’t too happy about that. I don’t blame her. She has a right to be upset about that. I feel a little guilty myself for not being able to be home for our kids. How anyone balances their life these days is a mystery to me.”
Harold looked at me a moment and shook his head, “I know a lot of my buddies who balance their life with alcohol.”
I chuckle a little. Harold laughs along with me.
Harold really doesn’t understand me; none of my coworkers really understands me. I don’t mean to be patronizing. It is hard though. It is hard being around people who haven’t a clue why you say the things you say, and do the things you do. It is the epitome of loneliness.
We don’t say much more till it is time to leave; we just sit and watch the sun sink below the skyline. We watch the great life-giving globe be devoured by the jagged lower jaw of the city landscape. Harold says goodbye and leaves. Shortly thereafter, I grab my stuff and begin to make my way to the elevator. As I walk to my car, a woman approaches me.
“Are you Mr. McCasy?” She says in a calm voice. I take another look at her. She is dressed like the “new age hippies,” those organic loving, environmentalists. She stares at me very sternly, in a way that makes me uncomfortable.
“I am, how may I help you? You aren’t by chance some environmentalist come to lobby me because I now own a very large company.”
“I am a respecter of nature but I am not here to discuss any environmental impact your company may have. I am here to make a proposition. I wanted to see if you would invest in something that really does have the potential to change the world for the better.”
I open my car door and toss my stuff in the back seat. Nevertheless, I don’t look away from her. She spoke in such a serious tone, it was clear that she believed in what she was about to propose. I try to keep a casual tone, “What would that be?”
She reaches into her bag and withdraws a tattered looking homemade book. She opens it and begins to speak quickly. “I’ve been doing research for quite some time and I’ve discovered the sources of most of the world’s greatest problems of these days. Those sources are stress, fear, and hatred. Stress and fear can be counteracted and hatred can be counseled. Nature has provided us with formulas to get rid of pain and stress, even anxiety and fear. These formulas are completely safe and natural and have no negative side effects. The problem is that so few people want to believe in these solutions.”
As she spoke, she showed pictures of soldiers in wars, and hungry kids, and pictures from the inside of a courtroom. For half a second I almost expected her to ask me to donate 28 cents a day to feed a hungry kid in Africa. Then she flipped to a page with a picture of a bottle that had Stress Relief Oil, written on it.
“Consequently, there are only a few of us willing to invest any time into spreading the news about this cure for world problems.”
I put my hand up signaling her to be quiet for a moment then I ask, “Are you trying to tell me that some oil is going to fix the world?”
She sighs, “You don’t believe me.” It isn’t a question. She was able to read my expression. “If only you knew, if only you would try it out you would see.” She flips the page again, to what looked like the page of some oil catalogue. “There are essential oils for everything, stress relief, anxiety suppressant, headaches, backaches, sex aides, there is even one to help you fulfill your calling in life.”
A little red flag goes up in my mind. I can understand if you are using this to fix some physical ailment. However, claiming to have some thing that alters your mind that has no ill side effects. To me that sounds like a drug not to be considered lightly. I look around and she reads that expression too, she closes her book and stuffs it in her bag. “I can see that you just think I am crazy and you won’t believe what I say, Have a nice night Mr. McCasey.” And with that she turned and quickly left...

Short Story Intro

It is a shame that most people only like the stories with happy endings. I am sure there are many people who have tried to figure out what it is about a happy ending that is so appealing. Likewise, there are many reasons given why. Many people attribute it to a need for hope, or security. I think it is something much less innocent. All a happy ending means to me is that there is no lasting change. I mean, how many times has the phrase “and they lived happily ever after” ended a story? Living in one state ever after denotes an endless constancy, comfort, familiarity. Why can’t the readers, listeners and watchers of these stories accept that change IS the only constant?

No one really lives happily ever after. There is always troubles and there is always change.

Ghost Memoirs #1

during my first Nano Wrimo, I had a mid month stroke of inspiration. This was the product of that inspiration. I had orrignally thought to have other characters along with these memoirs that had their own story going along with it. But I think I have decided now to just leave the entire story in a memoir format. I might include those other characters, but just have various memoirs from them.

here is the memoir that started it all.

I was walking down the streets of a big city, debris and rubble covering the deserted paths between the crumbling buildings. Cars were piled up along the sides of the street like barricades against some enemy unknown. Fat black Crows and beady-eyed vultures hid in the holes of ruined buildings like pompous and corrupt lords and kings looking down at their feasting table. However, through this entire distressing scene, no discomfort came to me, contrary to what I would have expected. No fear, no worries, no pain or pleasure. Only the feeling of emptiness resided with me. I stopped before a dead woman and knelt down beside her body, perhaps I knew her.

I turned her over to get a better look at her face. Her face was mangled and what was left of it was frozen in the look of terror. It is that specific look of terror that can only be made by the dying breath. I stared into her one eye and looked for an imprint of the light that was once there.

I sat in that way for no more than a few moments before I felt “it” standing there behind me. I knew it was there before I could hear its rumbling metal gait, before I could smell its pervading stench of corroded flesh mingled with burning metal, and before the birds took their flight of fear. I stood slowly feeling its cold, lightless eyes boring into my back. I turned and faced the horror as its black rusting frame began to move towards me.

I lifted my weapon and let fly a few volleys, blowing off parts of its metal hide before it could respond. With quick deadly force did its own killing pleasure show, as holes burned into my own flesh. However, I didn't flinch as I lost the will to lift my weapon, didn’t fear as it charged forward with flaming hands and flying bullets, didn't fall back as it gripped me with searing claws. Then, as it rent me in two, I looked into its eyes, eyes that never held light...and I heard in my mind, with my own empty voice, "If you knew, you still wouldn’t win. You still couldn't beat us."

Then I awoke. I didn't awake, as one would expect, with a racing pulse and quickened breath. Nor did I sit up immediately. I simply opened my eyes and gazed at the ceiling for a few moments as those words rang in my ears.

I remember having that dream a year ago, before this nightmare had sprung upon us. At least, I think I dreamed it. I cannot tell. It just seemed to come back to my memory because today I will walk down a road of some big city with rubble and debris covering these deserted paths between the ruined buildings, and cars piled up like barricades...

Alex Denko

Age 34

Random Improv

This is something that My little Brother and I came up with while doing some voice improv. We had a good laugh so we wrote it down.

Episode 1

“So there are one…. two.. uh.. looks like there are sixteen guards…”

“And the one on the wall?”

“Seventeen guards.. That one up on the wall is going to be the most dangerous.”

“Why?”

“Because he will see us first, idiot.”

“Ok, so what is the plan?”

“Ok, you take this rock here, and throw it at the one on the wall and try to knock him off, and then while all the other guards are distracted, we will walk in.”

“Igath like the plan.” Igath said. He took the rock and hit the guard on the wall square in the head and the guard fell off.

“Good throw Igath. Get ready to run.”

One of the guards looked at his fallen comrade and said, “Sorry Bill, told you that position sucks,” then walked on.

“Uh… Are we supposed to run now?” Igath asked.

“That didn’t work out like I thought it would.”

A booming voice came out from the castle wall and a large man emerged. “Johnson, it’s your turn, Take Bills post.” Johnson walked up to the wall, cursing the whole way along. The large man retreated into the castle again.

“Well, let’s try it again.” Kap said.

Igath took up another rock and felled another wall guard.

The captain came out and called another man into the position.

“It working, do we have more rocks?” Igath said.

“Too bad we are out of rocks,” Kap said.

“Well.... what we do now?”

“Do we have anything else we can throw?”

Igath looked through their belongings, “A crusty stale biscuit.”

“Give it a try.”

Igath hurled the biscuit at the guard and it left a large dent in the guard’s armor as he toppled off the wall.

“Wow, that did better than the rock. Do we have any more?”

Igath looked, “A couple more.”

“Well do you have fourteen more?”

“Don’t you mean uh... seventeen?”

“What do you mean, we already took out three.”

“No.. Look... Seventeen.” Igath Pointed

Kap looked at the guards, “one… two… three… oh stunt double’s armpit, they keep reinforcing their ranks. These guys are tough nuts to crack, they don’t break formation for anything.”

“Well Kap, what we do?”

“I don’t know, if there was only a back way in.”

“Well… there is.”

“What?”

“I saw it on the way here.”

“And now you are going to tell me that it was completely unguarded too.”

“Not one guard in sight.” Igath said.

Kap sighed, “Why didn’t you say so before.”

Igath shrugged. “I dunno Kap. I dunno.”

“Well come on, lets go…”

15 minutes later.

“That was easier than I expected.” Kap said.

“Hey Who are you two.”

“Crap.” Kap said.

“You two are crap?” said the guard.

“I.. um.. uh.. Please don’t kill us we are just traveling through to get to the other side, we are making our way to the land on the other side.”

“Oh, why didn’t you say so. Well come on through.”

“What?” Kap said.

“What what?” the Guard said.

“What what what?” Igath said.

“Huh…” they all said.

“Yes..” Igath said.

“Aren’t you guards supposed to be… guarding the castle from anyone entering?” Kap asked.

“Well yeah, we are supposed to guard it against… Threats…” the guard grinned.

“Wait, so you are saying that… we not threats? We knock guards off wall with rock and biscuit?”

Kap cringed.. “Uh… Igath..” he whispered, “Shut up..”

“Huh Kap, what you say?”

“Oh, you were the ones throwing rocks. Don’t worry about it, we loose guys in that position all the time.”

“Uhhh, so you are saying that… we aren’t threats?” Igath asked.

“We’ve had worse then you two. I remember one time when we had a Gigantic Cow come by. You think throwing rocks is bad, wait until you have a two hundred pound cow pie fall on your head.”

Episode 2

“Ok, so we finally made it to the gate to the evil kingdom. We just have one more problem. How do we get through the evil kingdom alive.” Kap said.

“Wait, is that our last problem, or will we have more problems once we get on the other side.” Shirly asked.

Kap sighed. “Next question.”

“You want me to throw the crusty stale biscuit?” Igath asked.

“Well, it worked last time.”

“What happened last time?” Shirly asked.

“You were asleep during all of that.” Bill said.

“Throw the roll Igath,” Kap said.

Igath took the biscuit and threw it with all his beefy might. They waited, and thirty seconds later they heard a deafening explosion. Then the biscuit came flying back through the portal and nailed Shirly in the face, causing him to fly back several feet and land on his back unconscious.”

“Well that worked” Kap said.

“Woah, some daemon on that side has a better throwing arm then you Igath.”

Igath sighed and looked at the ground. “I am shamed”

“Don’t get yourself down about it Igath.” Agatha said.

“Ok, Plan B. Lantz you go through first and if you make it to the other side alive, yell really loud to let us know.”

“Ok..” Lantz said as he ran through the portal. The group waited and waited and waited…

30 minutes later.

“Ok, that should have been enough time for Lantz to get through. I guess he didn’t make it. So we go to plan B-2. Chance. Go see if you can find the body of your buddy Lantz.”

Chance looked at the ominous portal. The portal specifically went out of its way to look dark, and ominous, and threatening, and it was doing a very good job. Chance carefully stepped toward the threshold of the great black gate, inching closer as he neared. He took a deep breath and took a step through. Then he exhaled with relief. To the great horror of the whole group Chance got picked up by whatever was on the other side of the gate, and hanging half way through the gate, he was flailed around, beat against the ground a few times, then tossed in front of the group.

“Well that plan worked wonderfully too.” Kap said.

Shirly groaned and sat up.

“Oh stunt double’s armpit. Shirly is back.” Kap said.

A large hand came out of the portal and grabbed for chance but got Shirly instead and pulled him through.

“Never mind. That worked stupendously. Now whatever is on the other side shouldn’t be hungry. But just to be sure, we will throw Chances body through too. Igath. Go.”

Igath picked up Chances Body and threw it into the portal.

Shirly’s left boot came flying back out and narrowly missed Fred. “Ok, that takes care of three of our more annoying party members which means more gold for the rest of us.” Kap said.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Fred said.

“What am I forgetting?”

“We still need to get through the portal to the other side.”

“Oh, that.. well it’s easy you see, we are going to round up as many bunnies as we can get and throw them through the portal, then while all the monsters on the other side are attacking the bunnies, we will sneak on through without any problem.”

“I think you are nuts.” Fred said.

“Well there is magic in confidence. If you have none, then you can just die I guess.”

Five seconds later.

Kap, Igath, Fred, Bill, and Agatha the burly, hairy, Amazon lady, were running for their lives through the portal away from the giant blood thirsty, daemon bunny that had been guarding the gate of the evil kingdom.

“GREAT PLAN KAP.” Yelled Fred.

“SHUT UP.”

“WHERES YOUR MAGIC NOW?”

“I SAID… HEY THERE IS THE PORTAL.” They quickly escaped through to the other side to see Lantz cooking dinner over a small fire.

“Lantz? You were supposed to yell really loud if you made it through.”

“I was hungry..” Lantz said.

Kap rubbed his head.

“So was that the last of our problems or do we have more now that we are on this side of the evil kingdom?” Shirly asked.

“Oh, stunt double’s armpit, Shirly’s Back.”

“Yep, I’m going to haunt you from now on. Chance is here too, you back stabbing weasel.”

Kap Sighed.

Welcome to System Purge

Well, I've done it, I have made System Purge. Here I will post all my random writing projects. things that won't be put into large productions. I will post up random things here from time to time. In the January of each year, I will have a special System Purge Marathon where I will write each day and try to include as many of the random plot/character/story ideas that I have just had lingering arround in my brain for the past year. This first one (System Purge 2010) will probably be the biggest because I will have ideas from more than the past year.

Enjoy.