Milton’s Hard Times

Right after the director shouted “Cut!”, Milton the Toaster popped the tarts out of his head and yelled for a cigarette.
“I don’t give a shit if it violates my warranty,” he growled, lighting it on his coils.
Every time the food lab came up with a new flavor, they’d plug in Milton, drag some kids from Central Casting, and shoot another commercial.
It was a steady gig, until someone leaked a video of Milton yelling “Get those kike donuts outta me!”
As for the dead hooker in his bathtub, Milton pled not guilty.
“I swear I wasn’t plugged in!”

The Same State

After the state crushed the rebellion, we surveyed the outlying towns.
All that remained of Newhaven was the well.
Everything else had burned or been knocked over.
“Where are the bodies?” we asked.
The scouts told us not to look in the well.
We filled it with rocks and dirt. and we bricked it over.
Today, there’s a stone marker on the spot.
No words, just the outline of an angel.
Every year, the state sends out an honor guard to lay flowers there.
The same state that burned Newhaven to the ground.
The same state that exterminated this town.

Weekly Challenge #737 – PICK TWO: null, smartphone, audio, alternative, hot, seek

Black Cat Matters

LIZZIE

The basement of the cathedral was off-limits.
After entering…
“Is this it?” His voice echoed through the web of archways.
The room was empty. A small stand at the back seemed to have some dry red on it.
“Sacrifices,” he whispered, thrilled.
The adventure was becoming a lot more interesting than he expected.
Something sparkled in the corner. A button. Press it, press it.
A heavy stone door opened. He walked in. It closed behind him. The sun came through some small windows.
“What is this? The basement?”
The stone door didn’t open again.
Never seek what you cannot handle.

RICHARD

Alternative

Hello, hello! Can you hear me?

Testing, testing, one, two, three.

Is this thing on?

How can I tell if it’s recording? What red light? No, I don’t know what my audio settings are, I’m not a bloody sound engineer! Yes, of course I’m speaking into the microphone… I just don’t know if it’s recording.

I told you this wasn’t going to work, but no, you wouldn’t have it. Just because it’s a smartphone doesn’t mean it’s smart to use it for everything!

I’m giving up on this.

I’ll record my story on the computer, just like I always do.

SERENDIPIDY

I suppose you could say I have an alternative lifestyle.

You know the sort of thing: Off the grid, unconventional, and I don’t seek to conform to society’s norms and expectations.

I don’t bother you, so I ask that you refrain from bothering me.

OK, I’ll admit that maybe I do bother you a little, when I steal your children, pickle them, and return them to you in jars, but it’s not as if you’re not getting them back when I’ve finished with them.

Which is more than I can say for you.

When am I getting my jars back?

TOM

Take Back Your City, Paint the Streets with Your Shame

The meter read: Null Hot. “What the fuck does that mean?” Yelled Baxser as the red light flash on seven monitors. He gave the consoled a thwack. The screen disappeared into a shower of green pixels. Upon recompose the screen now read: Null cold. “Bite me.” Screamed Baxer. Thwack again. Now the screen read: hot cold.” “Not playing.” Grunted Baxter. Thwack Thwack thwack. Screen read: “Null Null.” Then when completely blank. From inside the ship it was no more than a burn orange glow, but from the earth it appeared a lovely orchid fanning cascade of creamed watercolor apricot. Puuufff.

NORVAL JOE

Billbert pondered Linoliamanda perched outside his window. What alternative did he have, push her off the roof? He invited her in.

She threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly.

Embarassed, he felt his face grow hot. “So. Why are you here?”

She pulled back and looked him in the eyes. Her cheeks were streaked with tears. “Billbert. I love you. And not just because you can fly.”

A voice spoke from Linoliamanda’s back pocket. “Linny. Your father is calling.”

“What the heck?” Billbert gasped.

She laughed. “Sorry. It’s the audio ringtone on my smartphone. I’d better get this.”

PLANET Z

Richard’s Tavern has been a favorite of The Royal Family for centuries.
Back in the day, they’d sneak in dressed as commoners for a pint, maybe a kidney pie.
Nowadays, with all the paparazzi about, it’s harder to pop off for a quiet drink.
They either have to close down the tavern or arrange for a takeout order.
Either way, the Buckingham Palace cooks wonder why their pies aren’t good enough.
And all the trouble of installing kegs with nitrogen taps? What for?
“Why are you so miserable? said the Master of the Household. “It’s a day off, isn’t it?”

About Johnny

Johnny was Johnny.
When it was January and the concrete floor was cold as ice, I picked up wool socks from Macys for him.
When I was going out to lunch, I’d pick something up for him.
An extra burger. Or a smoothie.
He never had any money, but he was using the unused servers to mine bitcoin.
So, he gave me some of them.
I’d forgotten about them.
So, when I stumbled across that old hard drive and recovered the wallet, I thought about him.
Then I cashed them in, left the country, and named my mansion after him.

The digital celebrity

As computer technology advanced, digital rendering became more realistic, and the physics models became so complex that motion-capture was no longer necessary, and the rendered actors could perform on their own. They looked better than human, acting in perfect digital sets and scenes.
Carefully groomed voice engines blended the cadence and delivery to the point where they were better than human, too.
Pretty soon, everything was digital, and fame was measured not in blocks of fifteen minutes, but clock cycles in a CPU.
No more Old Actors’ Home, just offline storage, waiting for occasional resurrection in a student director’s project.

Apartment Twelve

The old woman in apartment twelve walks to the alley every morning, and sets out a bowl for the neighborhood cats.
She sings a lullabye as she watches them eat.
She has names for each cat.
The son who died in the war.
The daughter who doesn’t call anymore.
She’s gone, too.
Her husband, who owned this building for years… the whole neighborhood too.
Her best friend from school, they used to play in the park. When there was a park.
She’s outlived them all.
When the bowl is empty, she picks it up and goes back to her apartment.

Evidence-based

Hollywood tells us that Donald Trump is an evil man, and then another dozen celebrities are revealed to be sexual predators.
An actress who was assaulted ten, twenty, or thirty years ago makes an accusation.
No evidence, just an accusation.
But they scream about evidence-based science and global warming.
Which is it?
Every time the Carbon Dioxide level in the atmosphere rises, I quietly hope that it’s that one part per million more than smothers this ghastly civilization in its cradle before it infects the galaxy with its madness.

She checks

She checks her reflection in the blade of the knife.
Fixing her lipstick, adjusting her left eye by two degrees.
It’s the little things that will get you caught.
They walk people through detectors at the checkpoints. Patrols check IDs.
But down here in Strip Row, there’s just face-scanners and heat sensors, and a good Series Eight can pass as human.
And pretty much any Series Nine.
She checks her reflection again, and when the music starts, she walks out to the stage.
Reckless is what the other cyborgs call her.
Hiding in plain sight is what she calls it.

Pirate Alerts

Just as there’s an Amber Alert for missing kids and Silver Alerts for missing elderly, pirates have their own alert system
The problem was naming the thing.
The Jolly Roger has only two colors on it: White and Black.
And let’s face it: announcing White and Black Alerts is a bit awkward in the 21st Century.
Pirates like Gold, but people might mistake a Gold Alert as some kind of warning to sell their Gold.
Pirates also like Silver, but there’s already a Silver Alert for the elderly.
Which isn’t a problem if the missing pirate happens to be elderly.

Weekly Challenge #736 – ILLUMINATE

… and that’s fifteen years.

Thank you to everyone who’s been a part of this podcast.

Let’s keep going, okay?

11

LIZZIE

A few photographs hung from the string of lights. She couldn’t remember them. Who was this guy? Where was this photo taken? Her gaze floated from photo to photo, her perplexity increasing.
But then she stopped. The beach. The pebbles. She remembered that.
She looked at the stranger standing beside her.
“It’s…”
The stranger nodded.
“You’re my son,” she said, smiling.
The stranger teared up. “Yes, Mom, I’m your son. We used to go to this beach when I was a kid.”
“And you used to pile up the pebbles and say Look, Mom. You were so proud of yourself!”

RICHARD

Illuminati Illuminated

After I read the DaVinci Code, (admit it, you read it too, even though you make out it’s crap), I thought I’d research the Illuminati a little bit more.

So I looked them up on Wikipedia. (Yes, that’s what counts as ‘research’ these days!), and apparently, they were formed as a secret society to oppose superstition and obscurantism, (new word for me there!)

Doesn’t that strike you as a bit ironic and hypocritical?

A notoriously secretive, obscure and superstitious organisation formed expressly to combat exactly those same traits in society?

That’s like a politician using Twitter to, erm… condemn Twitter!

SERENDIPIDY

I don’t want to leave you in the dark concerning your fate. That would be most unfair and put you at a huge disadvantage.

I run an ethical operation here, and I’m all in favour of informed consent, although of course, we’ll have to consider your consent to be ‘implied’, since the bindings, blindfold and gag make any sort of communication difficult.

So, let me whisper in your ear, exactly how I intend to torment you… Cast a light on what to expect, and illuminate the path we’ll be following.

And finally, when it’s all over…

Walk towards the light!

TOM

Let There Be Light

Jimmy boy genius was putting the finish touches on his grade school science project. The gym was full of the standard kid projects. More than the average number of mock volcanoes. Jack the janitor was watching closely as Jimmy pull out a vampire tap and slammed it in the main power line. The lights dimmed inside, the lights dimmed outside. Then across the state. Jimmy flick the on switch. Light of a 1000s sun vaporizes every living soul in the gym. Next day the fed hauled away Jimmy’s illuminator. Its currently on the US Space Station pointed at Moscow.

NORVAL JOE

“It sucks to be in seventh grade,” Billbert said, sitting on his bed. The only light illuminating his room came from the streetlight outside the second story window.
He thought he’d made a friend at this new school, maybe even a girlfriend. She’d just hung up on him in the middle of a conversation.
He nearly jumped out of his skin when there was a frantic pounding at his window. Billbert ran to the window and opened it to find Linoliamnda perched on the eaves.
“How’d you get up here?” he asked.
She frowned. “Well, I didn’t fly. That’s obvious.”

PLANET Z

It’s a bright and sunny day.
Isn’t it beautiful?
They say that sunlight is the best disinfectant, but that’s really just a metaphor.
It represents the press exposing the dirty secrets of corruption and graft that infects the powerful and elite of our world.
The truest disinfectants for other applications are heat and bleach.
So, if you find a powerful elite individual engaging in graft and corruption, be sure to pour bleach into their mouths and then set them on fire.
They may not scream “Thank you for disinfecting my corruption!” but I promise you, they’re thinking it.
So beautiful.