I went out into the woods with my backpack full of bacon and candles, looking for the perfect spot.
Aha. A clearing.
Perfect.
I set down the heavy backpack, opened it up, and began opening up the packages of bacon.
Arranging the strips in a pentagram, I placed candles at each of the five points.
Then, I took off all of my clothes, I wove the remaining strips of bacon into a loincloth, and pulled it on.
After I lit the candles, I swayed and chanted, hoping to summon something from The Bacon Universe.
Instead, the fire department showed up.
Tag: fantasy
Books
Boring? No!
Libraries can be fun and exciting.
All the ideas and hopes and dreams of generations past are contained in books.
Plus, a few surprises.
If your library is old enough and you can forge academic research credentials, you can get access to some really old books.
This Fifteenth Century French cookbook contains many wonders, but the fact that the author wrote over a Ninth Century demon summoning guide makes it extra-special.
With a little lemon juice and a match, I can…
Someone hisses.
It’s not the librarian… it’s the demon.
I slit my finger… here comes the fun!
The Leader
Sufficiently powerful magic swords can overwhelm their owners and take control of their bodies.
So when the fighter we’d hired with a king’s ransom in the tavern drew the sword we’d lent him and growled “This one will do” in Razorwind’s cold steel voice, we knew we had our party leader back.
“This time, can you save a healing spell for my handler?” the sword asked our cleric. “The money you keep paying and taking back from them can buy a potion or two.”
The cleric whispered “Certainly, sir.” and Razorwind pulled back from his neck.
And we marched on.
Unicorns
Most server administrators manage their servers, setting up simple rotation scripts to prevent their logs from filling the hard drive.
But there’s some slackers out there who have no idea what they’re doing, and they let the hard drive fill up, and they can’t send email or serve up any more web pages.
I send those people a knowledgebase article and offer to set up the log rotation scripts, but one refused, saying “The unicorns will appear when it reaches 101 percent!”
Bah. I install the rotation scripts anyway.
Remotely, of course.
(Those roaming unicorns are really dangerous, you know!)
In The Dead Of Night
The tooth fairies exchange money for teeth.
Then, the sandmen grind them up into dream dust.
Overprotective dogs aren’t a problem with a face full of dream dust, but motion-sensing alarms can be.
Then there’s the sandmen and fairies who think the whole racket is stupid, so they steal jewelry, credit cards, and MacBooks.
Don’t get me started with the bootleg videos of hot celebrities and models sleeping. The Council can barely deal with the Lindbergh baby incident, let alone Internet paparazzi stalker porn. Technology’s like magic to them.
We’ll pay for Lady Gaga’s dentures and a new laptop, okay?
Cinderell-huh?
If Cinderella’s glass slipper fit, why did it fall off?
And when it fell off, why didn’t it turn back into her ragged ordinary slipper when the clock struck midnight?
The horses turned back into mice.
The carriage turned back into a pumpkin.
Her ball gown turned back into the clothes she was wearing the day before.
So why not that slipper?
It’s because of the Fairy Godmother.
Why she didn’t just blast the wicked stepmother and the two sisters with her magic wand and make the prince her undying love slave, well, that’s because she was a manipulative bitch.
The Price Of Fame
The agency sends special girls.
Stare into their eyes long enough, and you become them.
Mind-Body Psychic Transfer, they call it.
What people do, well, that’s their business, as long as they pay, and don’t get the girls hurt.
I work for this Hollywood star who pays a fortune to get away from himself.
He can go to dinner, or just walk around without getting harassed or chased by paparazzi.
Or, he’ll have the girl walk him around, and he’ll watch the crowds swarm, begging for autographs.
Weird? Yeah.
But I don’t judge. As long as he’s back for rehearsals.
The Water Marshal
It never rains in The Burning Lands.
But in case it ever does, the citizens must be prepared.
Young salamanders and firedrake students laugh and play as they are shepherded from their classrooms into the gymnasium.
An iron tank covered with warning symbols sits in the middle of the room.
Water: The most dreaded and feared substance in The Burning Lands.
Students hiss with fear as The Water Marshal turns a knob, and an ordinary flame is…
Extinguished! Dowsed!
What magic is this?
Screams. Shouts.
The Water Marshal demands order.
Then, together, they shout the Water Drill:
“SMITE! IGNITE! ALIGHT!
The Uncharmed Life
The townsfolk spread rumors about Mercy Polk and her use of magic charms, potions, and wands in unusual rituals.
She was arrested and dragged before the town magistrate, and ordered to demonstrate her supposed magic powers.
She dipped her finger into a bowl of water, and turned it into wine.
“What is that in your other hand?” asked the magistrate.
“A stone!” shouted the bailiff. “The rumors are true! She has no powers whatsoever!”
The magistrate found her guilty and sentenced her to exile in Boston.
(And kept the stone for himself, since good wine is so hard to find.)
Skates
I met an ogre named Wilson.
We became friends.
I introduced him to my other friends.
They welcomed him into our circle of friends.
We went to the movies.
We went out for pizza.
We watched a baseball game.
But when we went roller-skating, they didn’t have any shoes Wilson’s size.
We took turns sitting with Wilson as he watched the others skate.
We tried to make roller-skates his size, and they fit great.
Wilson took a few steps…. and he fell on his ass.
We laughed.
Wilson didn’t. And he attacked the village.
Go get your pitchforks and torches.