Betrayal

We were not of the same tribe by birth, but we were as kin. We were brothers in all but blood. We both swore an oath to the same lord. He accepted us as kinsmen, and so too expected the same from us.

Why then, when the lord was away, did you betray me, man who was my brother? What honor is there in lies and deceit? You hunted me down as a partridge in the mountains. You turned those I most loved against me.

When our lord returns, what will he say, betrayer? What will he do with a kinsmen-slayer?

Several Years Ago

"I asked for these days off back in September," I tried to reason with the manager. "These are the days of my finals."

"But you're scheduled for those days. You're going to be letting the rest of your team members down if you skip out on work."

"Are you trying to guilt me into skipping finals?" I asked. "I seriously don't think that I am going to look back on my life twenty years from now and say, 'Why did I put so much effort into college? I really wish I had spent more time at Target!'"

He turned red. "Fine!"

Socially Inept

"Hey! I am the . . . what is my . . . up . . . dawg . . . skillet," the inflection in the socially inept guy's voice went up an octave.

"Were you asking a question?" Frank asked. "Because I literally could not tell."

"No. . . Yes? I don't know . . . really. Maybe," his voice kind of trailed off.

"Look, man, maybe you should lie down or something. Take a load off."

"Yes, that's . . . that's good, that's . . . a good idea, I think . . . think I'll . . . lie down for . . . a something while . . . down," his voice trailed off again.

UNEXPECTED TWIST ENDING: The socially inept guy is the author of this blog! Dun dun DUN!

Conspiracy Theories in Space

Bill McIrish glowered, but that was normal, "Questions continue to be raised concerning Vithor Lovenstein's legal status and qualifications to be president. I'm joined by attention-loving-conspiracy-theorist Cletus Barycenter. Explain for the space-folks the problem exactly."

"We simply don't know anything about Lovenstein. Is he a Body-Snatcher from the Nega-Zone? Did he travel here from the future and use his future knowledge of his own election victory to win the election? Without a space-birth certificate, we simply don't know!"

"To be fair, Lovenstein's released numerous documents refuting these accusations."

"What's he hiding? He's going through incredible lengths to counter these ridiculous allegations!"

~~~
More stories concerning Galactic Federation Politics

A Dangerous Combination

I discovered him lying there in a pool of Flintstones brand vitamins, Cherry Coke, and his own vomit. I shook my head in disdain. "What made you do it, Charlie?" I asked myself out loud knowing full well the answer. "I'm sorry, Charlie."

Fifteen years ago the birds were singing a carefree song, and we were all singing along. Life was a lot simpler back then. The sun still shined fifteen years ago, and Charlie wasn't dead, hopped up on too much caffeine and children's nutritional supplements. They were the 'gummie' kind. They didn't have those when I was a kid.

One Sentence Story Collection V

"I'm sorry Mrs. Jablonski, but your robot's got severe rust-itis and will have to be shut down . . . permanently," the robo-mechanic said.

Like clockwork, the clock worked.

After losing my third finger, I thought maybe I should have looked at those instructions after all.

Coach Vaughn aligned the metal bat with the kneecap, "You're just going to have to take one for the team, Johnny."

Galactic Arbiter

"—and that's why we need universal health care coverage, because if the universe gets sick, we all suffer, being within the universe," Galactic Federation President Vithor Lovenstein finished his talking points at the Space Press Conference. "Questions? Karl Jibberjabber, GPR?"

"Mr. President, Galactic Federation citizens Über Johnson and Forthright Forthrite are having a dispute over space-hedge clippers allegedly lent with ever being returned. What are you going to do about this dispute?"

"Obviously, Mr. Forthrite is in the wrong. His complaint is silly; also he should consider trimming his nose hairs once in a while. Can anyone say, 'Yuck?' Next question?"

~~~
More stories concerning Galactic Federation Politics

High School Harassment

"What is this? What are you nerds doing over here? Playing Magic the Pokémon Cards? Ridiculous!" The daily lunchtime harassment had begun.

"Look at this one here," said Joey poking at Francis's coat, "He thinks he's Admiral Picard on the Platinum Falcon!"

"It's Captain Picard and the Millennium Falcon, but you're confusing Star Trek with Star Wars," Percy blurted out.

"What's this?" Adam the football captain said. "He's talking to us like we care." All the football players laughed.

"You make fun of us, but you're no different," Francis could contain himself no longer. "You're just sports-nerds!"

The cafeteria went silent.

Self-Aware Misery

"This 'Misery Index' that newspapers use does not accurately reflect how miserable I feel, and by extension how miserable everyone else should feel, because my feelings are the only one that is right."

"Wow, Bob, that was quite an elaborate sentence to set up what will undoubtedly lead to a somewhat funny yet ultimately unfulfilling conclusion. Just like 98% of these other stories."

"No fourth wall breaking! Anyway, Joe, as I was saying, this 'Misery Index' is wrong because I feel miserable all the time. In fact, I should make my own—"

"Oops, ran out of 101 words again! Sorry folks!"

T. Thaddeus Fitzsimmons

A young man burst through the doors as T. Thaddeus Fitzsimmons enjoyed a quiet breakfast. "Uncle Thad!" he said. "I'm you're long lost nephew Oliver come to stay indefinitely!"

"Uncle? Nephew?! Preposterous! See here you scallywag," Thaddeus slammed his fist into the table. "I have no siblings, and thus no nephews. Immediately remove yourself from my estate forthwith!"

"Technically I'm your great-nephew, and you are my closest living relative and now court-appointed guardian," the young man produced court documents and then proceeded to sit down at the table and eat Thaddeus's breakfast.

As Thaddeus examined the papers, his monocle popped off.

The Scarred Man

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Heavy footfalls descended the stairs.

Click.

A single light bulb flickered and lit the small cellar. The man with the scar on his left cheek wore tattered khaki slacks and a blue collared shirt. He cautiously stepped forward to the man tied and gagged in the corner, and kneeling stared him straight in the eyes.

"They're looking everywhere for you," he said with a slow meticulous precision, "But they're not going to find you." His gaze, though direct, looked straight through the gagged man. "You hate me," it was almost a question. "I know. I hate myself, too."

Dude

The few wiry wisps of hair on Kent's chin did not help much in the way of making him look his age, twenty-eight, but they did at least make him look not twelve. "I just think that love is like awesome and stuff."

Travis nodded in agreement, "It's like if we just all loved each other, we'd like not hate and stuff."

"Dude." It was a statement of agreement this time Kent said it.

"I know."

"Dude?" This time it was a question.

"Yeah, dude?"

"I'm jonesin' for some pancakes, dude."

"It's like midnight, dude."

"Dude! IHOP!"

"Dude, you're right!"

"Dude."

It's Grusto! -drawing-

It's everyone's favorite puppet! Grusto!

Newton's Cradle

"Uhm, sir?"

"What is it, Johnson? Can't you see I'm busy?" Mr. Trollope stared intently at the Newton's cradle on his desk. "Amazing. Simply amazing. How does it do it, Johnson?"

"Conservation of momentum and energy, Mr. Trollope," answered Mr. Johnson.

"That sounds ridiculous. I prefer to think that the balls move back and forth by super magnets that change polarity with every click."

Johnson sighed, "That seems a bit overly complicated for such a simple device, don't you think?"

"I cannot see another possible explanation . . . other than magic," Mr. Trollope's eyes grew wide. "That's it! Magic!"

Mr. Johnson groaned loudly.

Zarquad

After all those long years searching, he had finally found him. "Doctor Livingstone, I presume?" Stanley said with great confidence.

"No!"

Stanley's countenance fell.

"At least not any more," the former Doctor Livingstone said, "I am now known as Zarquad Fleeberflammer IV, Deputy Foreign Minister to His Greatness, Floyd, King of Monkeys!" Zarquad beamed from ear to ear.

"I . . . see," Stanley didn't really know how to carry on the conversation from there, but he tried like any good English gentleman, "And would King Floyd be interested in an audience with a journalist?"

"I don't see why," Zarquad said, "He's a monkey."

Father Flavian's Discount Icon and Relic Emporium

An unusually loud monk standing outside a nationwide chain store in a television commercial, "Come on down to Father Flavian's Discount Icon and Relic Emporium today! We've got all your articles of questionable religious significance at prices so low, you'd think we were mass producing fraudulent replicas which . . . ha ha . . . of course we're not, cause we're religious! And everyone knows it's impossible for religious people to be evil! We have bones of various saints, splinters of the original cross, holy grails, shrouds with shadowy images, and much much more! Be saved and save at Father Flavian's Discount Icon and Relic Emporium!"

Burritos and Time Travel

John's lips quivered at the thought of scarfing down the decadent Mexican-ish delight from Taco Town.

"No! Don't eat that burrito!" an old man cried. "I've come from the future to stop you . . . me."

"I come back in time for a burrito?" Present-John asked his future doppelganger.

"Not the burrito per se, but the culminating consequences that develop from eating that—DON'T BRING THAT CLOSER TO YOUR MOUTH!"

"Sorry."

"Thirty minutes from now you develop explosive diarrhea, which leads to several long and expensive medical procedures that leave you destitute!"

"But I get to travel through time," Present-John countered through burrito-mouthfuls.

Ancient Religion or Modern Environmentalism

The leader stood and addressed the gathered masses, "We have angered the gods of this world with our decadent lifestyle!"

Several gasps arose from the throng.

"By our own actions we are weakening and killing our gods," the leader continued, "so in righteous judgment they will smite us if we do not repent!"

"What do we do?" several voices cried.

"Return to the ways of our forefathers who pleased the gods!" the leader answered. "Make sacrifices to the nature gods. Only we can save them and ourselves!"

Yet it was for naught. The Ice Age ended, their lands consumed by water.

Lawnba

"Hey, Steve, what's that thing moving around on your lawn?"

"Oh, that's my Lawnba."

"Lawnba?"

"Yeah, it's like a Roomba, you know, one of those self-propelled robotic vacuum cleaners. The Lawnba is like that, except it's for your lawn."

"Are you comfortable with that?"

"With what?"

"Well, with giving a robot something dangerous like sharp blades. Sure, a robot vacuum might not be all that dangerous, but what happens when the robots rebel and your Lawnba uses its sharp blades on you instead of the grass?"

"That's what a sledgehammer is for, Bob."

"Yeah. Before you gave it to the Sledgebot!"

One Sentence Story Collection IV

Onto the page he poured out his heart with ink and tears, fully aware it would never be seen by whom it was for.

The beast was felled; the trumpets blared, and thunderous applause echoed through the court as the boy, now a man, triumphantly returned.

Another dead body brought the total to four, but Detective Halpern felt down inside his gut that before very long it would soon be five.

Rain falls hard against my window, the backbeat to nature's glorious song.

Down, down, down she went, twisting and turning as she fell from grace.

The Case of the Death of Shamrock O'Malley- Finale

Continued from "The Case of the Death of Shamrock O'Malley" Parts 1, 2, 3, and 4.
~~~

Shamrock O'Malley pounced on the clock-timer device, and Professor Montgomery grabbed for it as well. Their struggle knocked them all about Montgomery's office.

"Shamrock, watch out for the window!" I cried, but too late. Shamrock and Montgomery fell out the open window and onto the street below with a spine-chilling crack. I hurried to the street below finding both men beyond hope. The device was also smashed to bits.

The Netherlands was never destroyed by a giant-space-laser. I don't know for certain if it ever existed, but for my friend, the late Shamrock O'Malley, I will believe it was the case.

~~~
More cases from the files of Shamrock O'Malley

Eleven Things

"I love this song! Turn it up."

Jason cranked up the radio as Journey's 'Anyway You Want It' played.

Kevin sang along, "She loves to move / She loves to groove / She loves eleven things!"

"Wait! What?" Jason interrupted. "'Eleven things'? That's not how it goes."

"Of course it is! That's how I've always sung it."

"'Eleven things'? Really? Why would she specifically love eleven things?"

"She's obviously a woman of discerning taste."

"A taste that is limited—"

"—to eleven things."

"—Eleven things."

A momentary pause.

"The lyrics are 'the lovin' things,'" Jason said.

"Now that's ridiculous!"

ThirstQuench™

"Jim, pop me over a ThirstQuench™."

"Uh, okay," Jim tosses over Lance a ThirstQuech™.

Lance takes the bottle and takes a dramatic swig. "Ahh! ThirstQuench™! ThirstQuench™ the Thirst!®"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm just quenching my mega-thirst with ThirstQuench™!"

"You sound like an advertisement."

"Jim, don't you like ThirstQuench™, the drink that packs a punch to your thirst . . . and quenches it?"

"You're making a scene and you're embarrassing me!"

"Dude, if quenching my thirst with the thirst-quenchable taste of ThirstQuench™ makes a scene, then people will just have to deal!"

"How much did they pay you to do this?"

"Fifty bucks."

It's Grusto!

"Hey kids!" a puppet popped out from behind a conveniently placed large object.

"Grusto!" the chorus of ethnically diverse children shouted in unison.

"That's right! It's me, Grusto! Now what's this I hear about somebody wanting to tell a lie?"

The smallest and most ethnic of the kids stepped forward, "I'm sorry, Grusto. I thought if I told a lie, then people would like me better."

"Mbatu, where would you get an idea like that?"

"You, Grusto! You're just an old guy hiding behind a large object."

"What? No! Don't listen to anything Mbatu says, kids at home. He's a liar!"

The Case of the Death of Shamrock O'Malley- Part 4

Continued from "The Case of the Death of Shamrock O'Malley" Parts 1, 2, and 3.
~~~

I turned around to see Professor Montgomery doubled over with laughter. "I'm sorry," he said between fits of laughter, "I can no longer contain myself! I fooled everyone except this idiot oaf of an Irishman."

Shamrock stiffened with anger.

"Not even that genius cocaine-addict Holmes discovered my plans, but this bumbling conspiracy nut found me out," Montgomery continued, "Too little, too late, I'm afraid. The countdown has already begun!" With a whip of his wrist, he uncovered a ticking clock. "When this reaches midnight, my giant-space-laser shall incinerate the Netherlands!"

"Why the Netherlands?" I inquired.

Montgomery shrugged, "I hate the Dutch."

To be continued . . .

~~~
More cases from the files of Shamrock O'Malley

Caught Without Cover

"It's strange. I don't think I've been in your house before," Reilly remarked.

"I don't invite many people over," Jacob said, "My house is haunted."

"Haunted? Is it dangerous?"

"Just an inconvenience."

They both entered Jacob's house by the back door leading into the kitchen. At the kitchen island a slightly pudgy man was putting together a ham sandwich.

The man was startled but quickly recollected himself and pulled a white sheet over himself. "OOOOooooOOOOooooOOooOOOOOOO," he moaned.

"What the—you're not even dead?" Jacob asked.

"Uhm, no, I'm quite dead," the 'ghost' uttered, "I just wasn't expecting you home so soon."

One Sentence Story Collection III

"Why do I have to do everything myself?" asked the last man on Earth.

Together they sang a song unlike any song they had ever sung before, nor would ever sing again.

The tactless preacher ended the eulogy, "He was crushed by his own hubris . . . also a steamroller."

John's malaise was thick and profuse like mayonnaise spread opulently over a ham sandwich.

Vacuum Invasion

We should have taken their warnings more seriously when we still had the chance. The hubris we displayed for so many years! All the while our destruction was under our noses waiting for the perfect time to strike. They tried to warn us.

They say dog is man's best friend, and it is absolutely true, or was true until dogs became an extinct species. They were the first to go, because they knew. We let the alien invaders into our homes thinking them to be mere appliances to remove dirt from our carpets. Our dogs knew better. We should have listened.

Economic Stimulus

"Senator Evans from Pennsylvania is recognized."

"Thank you, Mr. President. My fellow Senators, America is hurting during this economic crisis. I am sure you have heard countless heart-wrenching stories from your constituents. I have heard many from my own constituents of the great Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. No one understands these economic difficulties more than I. That is why I urge my fellow Senators to pass S1737: Somebody Please Lend Senator Evans Twenty Bucks Because He'd Like To Go Out To Eat Tonight Which Will Stimulate The Local Economy, Plus You Know He'll Be Good For It Act of 2009. Thank you."

~~~
More proposals by Senator Evans of Pennsylvania

The Case of the Death of Shamrock O'Malley- Part 3

Continued from "The Case of the Death of Shamrock O'Malley" and "The Case of the Death of Shamrock O'Malley- Part 2."
~~~

Shamrock O'Malley had curled up in a corner of Professor Montgomery's office and began muttering to himself. Montgomery and I both stood watching him in utter befuddlement.

"I'm a doctor," I said, "but I'm not trained in diagnosing mental disorders."

"I do not have a mental disorder!" Shamrock declared.

"Come now," I said, "All your explanations are ridiculous: Space aliens, sasquatches, pirates—"

"The pirate was real!"

"Granted. But now a giant-space-laser controlled by a Professor of Rainy-Day Activities?"

I could not continue my thought, because at that moment Professor Montgomery began to laugh a laugh that chilled to the bone.

To be continued . . .

~~~
More cases from the files of Shamrock O'Malley

Immune to Therapy

Continued from "Rise of the Psychiatrist."
~~~

The Incredible Sulk was rampaging through downtown St. Louis.

"SULK NOT BELIEVE BLUES HOCKEY TEAM NOT MAKE IT TO STANLEY CUP FINALS AGAIN!" he said as he demolished a 1999 Chevy Camaro.

The Psychiatrist stepped out into the street and yelled, "Zee Suhlk! You lash out beecauze you velt neeglecteed az a child!"

The Sulk immediately turned gray, "FUNNY-ACCENT MAN RIGHT!"

"Eggzelleent!" the Psychiatrist cackled, "I haff tamed zee beest!"

The Sulk's complexion slowly turned red, "WEIRD-SOUNDING MAN MAKE SULK FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE! SULK SMASH BEARDY-MAN INSTEAD OF DEAL WITH SULK'S UNDERLYING EMOTIONAL PROBLEMS!"

"Uh-oh," the Psychiatrist said shortly before being pummeled.

~~~
More adventures of the Incredible Sulk