Every street-corner Santa has a magical pot and a magical bell.
The pot is a gateway to another dimension full of evil and demons that can only be blocked with a large volume of money.
The bell is used for driving off any evil beings that manage to make it through the pile of money and into our world.
Demons can’t stand the sound of bells. Hurts their ears.
What? It hurts your ears, too?
Maybe… you’re a demon!
Santa! Santa! I caught one!
Help me stuff this guy into your pot to send him back to his evil dimension!
Tag: science fiction
Exoplanet
Scientists made a list of Earth-like exoplanets.
The first set of seeder pods full of colonizing bacteria were ready when the meteorites began to fall into the ocean.
Strange energy signals rose from the depths, and algae started to assemble into vegetable-based manufacturing centers, spewing plant-based exploration tendrils.
We tried to stop them. A few hundred nukes later, we thought the invaders were defeated.
They weren’t. The battle raged on for years before we finally won.
Still, one day, the plants and vegetables might rise again.
And that’s why you need to mow the lawn and eat your lima beans.
Detention
After I burned the school down, Principal Green said I’d get a million years of detention.
All he managed to do was expel me.
“But it’s going on your permanent record!” he shouted, shaking his fist.
Getting out of school was the best thing that ever happened to me. I could continue my scientific research uninterrupted by gym and French, and within a year I had a cure for cancer.
Soon after, by extending the telomeres of DNA, a cure for death.
People could live forever.
After I received my Nobel Prize, the cops showed up. “Now about that detention…”
The Speed Of Pie And Ice Cream
The speed of light is faster than the speed of sound, that’s why you see lightning before you hear thunder.
Dr. Fred Beamer’s spent his whole life researching this phenomenon.
Well, he was supposed to be researching it.
I looked through his file and found that he’d expensed years of meals at a local diner to the university.
“What?” Dr. Fred said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “I thought I was supposed to be researching pie and ice cream.”
He got me added to his grant. And if you keep quiet, he’ll add you, too.
Now try the blueberry.
i Vacuum
I bought one of those robotic vacuum cleaners.
Cool device, but it ran out of power before it finished vacuuming my floor. Way too many repeated routes running down the battery.
I thought about putting a bigger battery in it.
Nah. Not elegant.
I popped open the case, hooked it to my computer, and hacked the route programming.
It compiled, rebooted, and sat there.
And then vanished.
Scratching my head, I looked back over my program and checked my math.
The italic “I” was in red.
Imaginary numbers. Non-existent hyperspace.
Oops.
I called Support.
It’s not covered by the warranty.
Three Laws
Years ago, when I was working at local TV station, we installed robotic camera pedestals.
Over the course of several months, these cameras rammed into various people, causing them injury.
Then they failed to get out of the way, injuring people walking into them.
They regularly went out of control, and then rammed into people.
And failed to “ped down” passing between studios, hitting door jambs. And then, when someone approached the camera, it would “ped down” and clonk them on the head.
I added a quick set of warning labels: “WARNING: THESE ROBOTIC CAMERAS ARE NOT THREE LAWS COMPLIANT.”
Dolly
When people asked Dolly Parton what she wanted people to say about her in 100 years, she’d say: “Darn, she looks good for her age!”
When the zombie outbreak swept across the country, Dolly was one of the many millions roaming the streets moaning “BRAAAAAAINS!”
Well, not exactly moaning. She still had a bit of that sweet friendly twang to her voice. Some say she’d toss in a “Howdy, y’all!” and “How ya doin?”
The plague was contained, she was caught, and after all these years, her still-groaning corpse is in Examination Pod Nine.
And, damn, she looks like shit.
The Right Man
“One day, you’ll find the right one. You work too hard.”
Remembering her mother’s words; staring at her reflection in the shiny temporal engine, every wrinkle under her tired eyes.
Another night at the lab, alone, hunting for chronatons.
Tonight, she found them, and they exploded.
Nausea… Waking up slowly.
She breathed air so fresh… Outside… Trees… Beautiful clouds… Pristine…
And a man carrying a blood-soaked jawbone, standing next to a body.
She rubbed her forehead. Still a bit dizzy. The lab. The explosion. The-
It had… worked?
The man dropped the weapon, reached down.
“My name’s Lily,” she said.
Conference Call
Ten people in suits walked into a conference room, pulled laptop computers out of their leather satchels, booted them up, and started their virtual conference software.
On ten screens, digital dopplegangers of each attendee appeared, and they sat down on tree stumps around a virtual campfire.
The crackles and pops of the fire cycled for a minute before anyone spoke.
“Anything for the agenda?” one asked.
No response.
“Nothing at all?” they asked again.
Still no response.
“Good. Meeting adjourned.”
The figures vanished from the screens, the laptops were stowed back into their satchels, and the people left the room.
Hopeless Romantic
“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?” said Romeo, walking out of the woods and approaching Juliet’s balcony.
A Martian leaned out the window, took aim, and fired his disruptor rifle at the horny teenager, incinerating him.
Juliet tried to scream, but the stasis field muted her plaintive sounds.
“What about the nurse?” asked another Martian.
The first Martian drew a finger across his throat.
To Romeo, Juliet was the sun.
But to Mars, she would make an excellent breeding-host.
Cargo bays full, the Martian ship extended its wings and silently rose through the puffing clouds into the heavens.