ENW Short Story Smackdown Summer 07 (Winner Announced)

awayfarer

First Post
Avatar_V said:
Well. That's certainly a diverse bunch of pictures! Seems that Awayfarer's bathroom will be reprising its role as a CDM setting.

I've got a sneaking suspicion that I'm going to be writing two more stories with a lavatorial bent to them. :D
 

log in or register to remove this ad

yangnome

First Post
good pictures. I don't have a story idea yet, but a few things circling around my brain after seeing them. I'm interested in seeing what I do to put them together.
 

maxfieldjadenfox

First Post
Rodrigo Istalindir said:
Awayfarer vs Avatar V -- 72 hours, 4 pictures, no word limit. Picture 4 courtesy of maxfieldjadenfox.

Pictures posted at 1348 GMT.

Wow. I did the tree picture all the way back in 1986... nice that it's seeing the light of day.
 
Last edited:

Round 2 Match 3 - FickleGM vs FreeXenon

72 hours, 4 pictures, no word limit. Picture 3 courtesy of maxfieldjadenfox. Pictures posted at 1240 GMT.
 

Attachments

  • Picture 1.jpg
    Picture 1.jpg
    95.7 KB · Views: 286
  • Picture 2.jpg
    Picture 2.jpg
    146.5 KB · Views: 308
  • Picture 3.jpg
    Picture 3.jpg
    31.9 KB · Views: 76
  • Picture 4.jpg
    Picture 4.jpg
    88.1 KB · Views: 265

D'oh. Just realized I posted the thumbnail version of max's picture. Here's the full size version. It deserves the special treatment!
 

Attachments

  • 722125771_013381803e_o.jpg
    722125771_013381803e_o.jpg
    147.5 KB · Views: 85


awayfarer

First Post
Mooks and Magic

Once upon a time in a forest a long ways away from here, there was a small cozy cottage carved into a wizened old tree. The tree was the tallest in the entirety of the Fairyland Woods and from its gnarled boughs and thick roots; one might get the impression that something old and magical lived there. This would not be so unusual in these woods, where so many odd and mythical creatures could be found.​
Which is why it was so strange that this particular cottage was actually the home of three fairly stereotypical hit men. It hadn’t always been so. The place had been the home of a gnarled old wizard only a few years ago, but it is the habit of city-folk to try and get away from it all, and the four hit men who purchased it (The wizard retired to Florida) had found it to be a great change of pace from their usual surroundings. They’d made a few changes to the place; the tiled bathroom wasn’t a part of the original cottage for instance. They had found that the magical, self-emptying chamber pots tended to be a bit sloppy, and decided to eliminate these. The Jacuzzi, pool room and home theater system were also additions, albeit the latter functioned through a rather large crystal ball that the four had found to give better reception than the satellite dish they’d had installed. All in all, it was a very comfortable place to live.​
Furthermore, there was a surprisingly large amount of work to be had in the Fairyland woods. The hit men made their living whacking werewolves, goblins and the occasional elf that caused a problem. Mythical monsters often prove to be a bit difficult to handle; in fact, one of the four didn’t survive their first month in the forest, but the remaining three adjusted quite well to the new challenges and thrived.​
It was on a day, many years ago that their lives in Fairyland took an unusual turn. It was an ordinary morning, at least as ordinary as a morning could be in the forest. The three hit men had just woken up and were performing their morning ablutions in the cozy cottages tiled bathroom. Vinny da’ Grey looked over to his left and felt a little forlorn at the empty urinal beside him. It was a sad to not see the toilet in use by a fourth member. Vinny missed Louie Red-tie, the groups fourth. Sure, they’d gotten along well enough without him, but Louie was a stand up guy and someone you could always rely on in a pinch. Unfortunately, Louie hadn’t taken the charging unicorn seriously enough.​
The middle hit man Toni Big-heels was looking over at the last, Johnny Serious. Toni was a cross-dresser, making him a bit unusual among them, but the rest were forward-thinking enough to ignore this behavior. Even had they not been fine with it, the fact that Toni could throw a knife accurately enough to cut a fly in half from across the room tended to discourage negative commentary.​
“Sheesh Johnny, you oughta get that looked at. I mean, plaid? You been screwing that dryad haven’t ya?” Toni commented while looking over at Johnny.​
“Knock it off Toni, everyone’s been screwing tha’ dryad. Ain’t like I’m the only one.”​
“Yah, s’kinda my point Johnny, you don’t know where she’s been. Ain’t right slippin the wood to some wood. You don’t know what sorta magical mystical std’s that broad’s got. You really need to get that checked. Tell him Vinnie, shouldn’t he get that checked?”​
Vinny didn’t want to have any part in it. “Look, Toni, just quit lookin’ at it alright? Sup ta him if he wants a plaid pecker. What do I care?”​
The three flushed, in unison and left to go have breakfast and discuss the day’s business.​
Johnny serious split a grapefruit in half. “Whadda we got today Vinny? Something a bit easier’n last week I hope. That exploding manticore wasn’t exactly a fun job.”​
“Shouldn’t be too tough.” Said Vinnie the grey as he poured out a bowl of Grape Nuts, “Some lady called Gramma wants a werewolf whacked. We still got plenty a’ silver bullets and if we can get to em’ by day it’ll be a piece a’ cake.”​
“Yeah, and you did clean the guns last night dincha Johnny?”​
“Sure thing Toni, they should be good to go. Yours was gummed up with lip-gloss ya nut. How’dja manage that anyhow? Y’know what nevermind, I’m sure I don’t wanna know. In any case, the guns is all laid out nice and neat on as desk in the library.”
Vinny dropped the spoon halfway to his mouth. There are certain difficulties in moving into a wizard’s home. Chief among them is the tendency of wizards to accumulate large numbers of magical texts. Magic does not hold well in paper and as a result, any location with a massive number of magic tomes tends to get…leakage.​
“Johnny you mook! You left the guns in the library!?” Vinny immediately pushed away from the table and rushed down the hall to the large, solid oak doors that marked the entrance to the library. He pushed inwards and entered the cluttered room. Wizards are also notoriously untidy. Several attempts at cleaning up the library met with failure as books simply migrated wherever they pleased. Even the dust had achieved some modicum of sentience, and small herds of dust bunnies occasionally hopped across the well-worn floor.​
Directly across from the doors was a desk where apparently Johnny serious had been tuning up the guns. Vinny quickly grabbed the three weapons and hastily retreated back into the hall, slamming the door shut behind him.​
“Johnny could you be any more of a nitwit? You know what happened the last time we left a weapon in there.”​
The last weapon left in the library was a small but rather sharp knife that Toni Bigheels had used to carve his initials in the desk. The blade was in there for three weeks before Toni remembered and brought it back out, but by then the damage was done. Some might think that an intelligent, talking weapon would make for an interesting companion, but comments like, “Oh god, I’m in someone’s head! I’m in someone’s freaking head!” tended to be unnerving, and so Toni quite using the knife. It had subsequently disappeared.​
“Hey, c’mon Vinny, they wasn’t even in there for a whole day. What’s the worst that could happen eh? Besides, it’s not like we got a decent desk to work at anywhere else. Lets just take em’ out to the firing range and test em’ out. See that everything’s what it should be, you know what I’m saying?”​
This was readily agreed to and the three left the cozy cottage and walked just a short ways to the place they called the shooting range, which was in fact a duck pond. Vinny took out his piece and selected a likely target. A fat duck lazily swam past. There was a faint click as Vinny pulled the trigger. Nothing happened for approximately two and two thirds of a second.​
The duck exploded in a ball of flame. Vinny dropped the gun, which was glowing red-hot. “Dammit, this piece is too hot!”​
Toni reluctantly held his gun and closed his eyes as he pulled the trigger. As with Vinny’s gun, there was the quiet click of the trigger, followed by a short silence.​
The noise that followed was not an explosion; in fact, it was not related to the sound “bang” in any way. It was a strange tinkling, crinkling sound. Toni heard the sound only after his gun had already fallen in front of his high heels. “Dammit, this piece is too cold!” When Toni opened his eyes, the spot in the pond that he had taken aim at was a solid block of ice. Ducks honked angrily as they tried to extricate their feet from the frozen surface.​
Johnny Serious casually fired at a duck. It died in an unremarkable way. “I don’t know what happened to you’se guys. My piece is just right.”​
Vinny slapped Johnny in the back of the head. “Moron! How we gonna whack that wolf without our pieces!? Ain’t like you can do it all alone.”​
“Look Vinny, maybe if we just leave the guns out for a while they’ll go back to normal.” Toni said “Happened with that nail file I left in the library one morning. It stopped meowing after about three hours. Lets just put down the pieces and go for a walk. Only let me change into some more comfortable shoes.”​
The three hit men left their guns on the kitchen table like any responsible adult would. They decided among themselves to hit their mark in the afternoon, although doing so would be markedly more dangerous the later in the day they waited. Toni put on some sensible beige shoes with a short, wide heel and they strolled down Fairyland Lane.​
Elsewhere, magic was causing quite a different problem for one young girl. The girl was known to her tribe as “Burning Hair”, as much for her red locks as for her unfortunate tendency to set things on fire. Regrettably (to her tribe at least) she was born with a talent for magic and as was the custom of the tribe, she was to be exiled. The council was still working out precisely where she was meant to go.​
Burning Hair was a carefree sort, and while feeling somewhat melancholy about her predicament, she was comforted by her travel companion. Her shadow had a mind of its own since she was only a few years old, and while it couldn’t speak, its antics always cheered her up. She waited outside the tent for several hours while the old men passed the pipe and discussed the affairs of the tribe. Occasionally an exclamation of “Whoa, dude” or “Wait, what were we just talking about?” could be heard through the fabric. Burning Hair was not the brightest person around, but she occasionally wondered why the elders sought wisdom in plants, which never seemed very intelligent to her.​
The tent opened and it was the chief himself who delivered the news. Chief Heap Stereotype appeared in his feather headdress and face paint, looking stern. It occurred to Burning Hair that perhaps the tribes naming conventions should also not rely on clouds of plant ash. The effect of the chiefs stern face was somewhat ruined when he cracked up.​
“Okay, check it out. You like… what was it? Oh yea, you, Burning Hair cause big trouble for our tribe. We’ve decided to banish you to the” The chief began to crack up once again “Fairyland Woods.” He gave a big grin and that was that.​
All in all, Burning Hair thought that things could be worse. She set off down the interstate on foot while her shadow did cartwheels. It was a surprisingly short distance from the tribes land to the Fairyland Woods. “Magic.” Burning Hair thought to herself, completely willing to accept this as sufficient explanation. She stared up at the giant trees that rose up suddenly in the desert. She moved in among the trees, glad to be in the shade.​
It was early afternoon but already the young sorceress was tired, having spent the entire morning just walking to her destination. She searched for some time among the trees in the hopes of finding a quaint bistro or coffee shop. She found the latter, a small place owned, operated and largely patronized by raccoons. The acorn coffee served there didn’t refresh her terribly and unfortunately, the proprietor couldn’t recommend any good hotels in the area.​
Burning Hair wandered onwards for a little while longer when she encountered a most peculiar thing. Carved into an enormous tree was a simple wooden door. “This is probably as close to civilization as we’re going to get, don’t you agree shadow?” she said aloud. Her shadow nodded, and the pair agreed to give it a try. They were quite tired from so much walking, and when no one answered the door, they decided to enter anyway.​
The hit men’s cozy cottage appeared very inviting to Burning Hair. She found herself in the kitchen, noting that some careless person had left several guns on the table, when she heard a noise nearby. It sounded like someone, or something, pounding on a heavy door.​
Investigating, Burning Hair came to a set of large oak doors. The pounding had ceased the moment she began to walk down the hall. She threw open the doors and was astounded at the vast number of clearly magical books that greeted her. This was all the more astounding for the simple fact that it was not descriptive language.​
The books jumped up and down, clamoring for her attention and she was delighted to play with them all, as was her shadow. It was only a few minutes before the frolicking was cut short however, by the immensely loud sound of an enormous book slamming shut. The other folios leapt upon their shelves, trembling slightly.​
Burning Hair turned a corner. Upon a dusty and evil looking pedestal was a gigantic, black volume that looked absolutely ancient. Burning Hair was not shy (or all that bright either) and so she stepped forwards to greet the book like all the rest. As she stepped forth, a pair of yellow, cat-like eyes suddenly appeared upon the cover.​
“Why grimoire, what big eyes you have!” Burning Hair remarked as her shadow (having more substantial brains) desperately tried to get her attention. As the girl stepped forward, the large tome bared a set of teeth that took up nearly its entire cover. It emitted a low growl.​
“Why grimoire, what big teeth you ha…holy crap!”​
The book leapt from its pedestal with its moth wide open, ready to bite Burning Hairs head off. Thankfully, the girl’s reflexes were faster than the rest of her mind. She quickly grabbed the first weapon she saw (a small knife) and slammed it into the book, pinning the thing to the wall. From somewhere nearby she heard a muffled voice. “Oh god, I’m in a books brain! I’m in a books freaking brain!”​
This was quite enough for Burning Hair. She hastily exited the library.
There was a sound at the kitchen door. “Perhaps it’s the owners.” Burning Hair thought. She ran to the kitchen and threw open the door.​
Standing outside were three bald men wearing lame t-shirts and holding various plumbing implements threateningly. One of the men faced away from the door.​
“Is this the home of Vinny the Grey, Toni Bigheels and Johnny Serious?” one of the three men asked. “This is Mr. Adrian Wrongway and Associates. We got a message for them, courtesy of one disgruntled werewolf.”​
“Yeah,” said the man facing away from the door ”that message is…chaaaarge!” He ran away from the door. There was a short muttering, something along the lines of “Adrian, you idiot.” And the other two pushed their way into the kitchen. Burning hair stumbled backwards, banging into the kitchen table. Her arm was flung backwards where it struck the gun of Vinny the Grey. Nothing happened for two and two thirds seconds….​

BANG!

The gun went off with a roar; the bullet ricocheted off the wall, then the ceiling fan, then off of the trigger of Toni Bigheels gun before burying itself in one of the bald men, who exploded. Bits of burning thug plastered the kitchen, setting fire to nearly everything in sight, including Burning Hair’s hair. All of this happened within two seconds…​
Two thirds of a second later, a loud, tinkle-tinkle noise occurred. The noise occurred again as the bullet ricocheted off the wall, and again as it hit the chandelier, and again as it struck the trigger of Johnny Serious’s gun. The second thug was frozen solid. The monkey wrench he had been carrying flew out of his hand and landed in the sink where it smashed the faucet, causing a spray of water to go everywhere. Some of the water froze in the air; some of it spread out and put out several small fires.​
Two thirds of a second later came the bang of a gun that was tuned just right. It had a clear path through the kitchen door and it left the cozy cottage only to strike a man running away from it. Adrian Wrongway was hit in the back of the head and was sent, against all normal physics, back in the direction of the kitchen. He crashed into his frozen comrade as he fell, shattering most of the thug to pieces.​
Burning Hair casually ran (A difficult thing to do) out of the kitchen and towards the nearest bathroom. She put out her scalp in the shower, a process she had gotten rather used to over the years. “Well, it’ll grow back…. again.” Her shadow heaved as if sobbing. It cared more about it’s hair than Burning Hair did.​
The three hit men came back from their walk to a grisly cottage. Toni Bigheels was the first to notice something was amiss “Hey Vinny, you leave the door open…wait, you smell smoke?” the three rushed in and immediately noticed the flaming corpse of the first thug. Vinny’s gun had left a scorch mark on the table when it fired. “Hey, somebody’s been whacked with my gun!” he exclaimed.​
Toni stepped in a puddle of slush and bits of semi-frozen goon. “Oh yuck, these are new shoes. I hope this comes out…wait a sec, somebody’s been whacked with my gun!”
Johnny serious was the last to enter. “Wait, I know this guy. Adrian Wrongway. He used to do jobs on the lower east side. Hey…looks like somebody whacked him with my gun…and here she is!”​
Burning Hair leveled Johnny Serious’s gun at the trio. She thought it was rude to kill someone in their own home however, and so she put down the gun. “Er, look this has been a really weird day for me and I’m guessing it’s been one for you three also.” She explained her situation. The three hit men appeared to be quite happy to have a sorceress around to keep an eye on all the strange magical things in their cottage. They called her Bonnie Red-Hair and lived as happily together as an accident-prone magic user and three hit men can.​
 

Avatar_V

First Post
ENWorld Short Story Smackdown Summer 07

Round 2, Match 1

Grikxzax Jr. and the Search for the Sacred Scroll
by Mike Rousos (Avatar_V)

The scout saucer hovered low over the vast Arizonan desert. Grikxzax Jr. looked ponderingly at the Earthling magazine in front of him. He licked a tentacle, turned the page, and sighed. “Choose a disguise,” his father had told him – but, how was he supposed to choose when all these Earthlings looked the same? And they were all so ugly.

The door behind him slid open, and Grikxzax’s father slid up next to him. “Well, son?”

Grikxzax Jr. frowned, “I don’t see why I even have to go down there.”

His father’s eye opened wide in surprise, “Don’t see why? Because our sacred scroll has been missing for far too long and we must recover it! That’s why!”

His father slapped him with a tentacle. “It’s only been my lifelong quest to retrieve it. Grikxzax, you have never tasted the sweet, heavenly ambrosia. If you had even once experienced the rapture that the sacred scroll brings, the sheer ecstasy of the moment, the explosion of taste, the exhilaration of the senses…”

“Yea, Dad, I get the picture. All I’m saying is, I didn’t lose the stupid scroll. I believe that dubious honor belongs to one Grikxzax Sr.…”

Grikxzax’s father reared up, flailing all of his tentacles about in the traditional ‘don’t you talk back to me, youngster’ pose, “After all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me? With insolence? Do you know how I treated my father when I was a boy? With respect, that’s how!” Grikxzax Jr. knew this spiel would go on for a while, so he returned to his magazine (assuming the traditional ‘I don’t care about your senile ravings’ pose). About the time his father started panting, he returned his attention to him, figuring the rant was more or less wrapping up. “…and I slithered uphill to school both ways. In the snow!”

“Dad, you grew up on a space ship…”

His father seemingly didn’t hear the interjection because he continued on, undeterred, to his big finale, “And I liked it!!!” Grikxzax Sr. caught his breath and then added, “Besides, the Overlord will have my tentacles on a platter if I don’t get that thing back soon – and you know I’m just too busy lately. What with taking your sisters to soccer practice, and piano lessons. Then there’s my chiropractor’s appointment on Thursday; I really can’t miss that. You know I’m a mess if I miss an adjustment.”

Grikxzax Jr. rolled his eye and said, “Here, I’ll look like this Earthling.” He dropped a tentacle carelessly on the page of the magazine. It landed on a photograph of a short-haired dark-skinned Earthling in a dark skirt and suit jacket. The Earthling wore large hoop earrings and high heels.

Grikxzax Sr. looked at his son’s selection (glad that he had given up arguing about going on the mission at all) and said, “Very good – I’ll send for Hratnikc and Krixzx to make you your disguise.”

“You know,” Grikxzax Jr. observed, “I’m really amazed the humans don’t see through those disguises. They really look sort of phony.”

Grikxzax Sr. just shrugged, “Yea, beats me. But, look at old Xrinthus – he’s down there right now campaigning as a candidate for the presidency of America and they still haven’t figured it out. Go figure…”

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Raine had always known she was special. Her mother had told her that she was when she was a young girl. At first, she supposed that she was special because she had an extra ‘e’ in her name. But, later, she learned that, in fact, it was much more than that. She also had eleven toes. When she was seven, she learned that most girls only had ten toes. And that’s the sort of thing that makes a girl extra special. So, to Raine, it really wasn’t very surprising that she didn’t have a lot of friends. She liked to wear sandals, or go barefoot, to show off her specialness. It probably intimidated the other girls – especially in school when she would sit at her desk in such a way as to try and get her specialness as close to their face as possible, so that they were sure to notice it.

But, the lack of friends never bothered Raine. She had a secret friend – one that was always faithful: her shadow! Oh, sure, Shadow was on the quiet side, but she also had eleven toes. So, she wasn’t intimidated by Raine’s specialness. Raine’s favorite thing to do with Shadow was to dance. Shadow was the perfect dance partner. No matter how Raine moved, Shadow could always keep up. She never said anything, but the two of them could dance for hours (with extra stability provided by an extra toe, of course) and Shadow would never miss a step.

In fact, dancing is just what Raine and Shadow were doing the morning that she saw the saucer. Raine and Shadow had been dancing outside of the ‘Wigwam Motel’ that her family owned (just off of Route 66, Cable TV, Heat and AC, rooms start from just $48.00 (plus tax)!) when Raine heard a soft whirring noise behind her.

attachment.php


Raine and Shadow turned to look, and there, not a hundred yards away, perhaps two hundred yards from the ground, floated a spinning silver saucer. And being lowered from the craft in a green beam of light was a professional looking black woman, dressed in a sharp business suit. Raine stood mesmerized. Her mother had seen UFOs, but until now Raine never had. This was guaranteed to make her even more special. She was glad that Shadow was there, too, so that there wouldn’t be any tension in their friendship from one of them being more special than the other.

The woman touched the ground, waved, shouted something about expecting an allowance increase for this (though, of course, Raine – special as she was – couldn’t understand the alien tongue), and the saucer sped away faster than Raine’s eyes could follow it. The woman brushed the desert dust from her suit with her hands and then, seeing Raine (and Shadow), walked towards them. “Greetings Earthling,” the woman said as she came near them. Raine stood, open mouthed, not sure what to say. Then the woman said, “Ah, crap, forget I said that. I meant to say ‘What’s up?’”

Raine continued to stand motionless.

The woman spoke again, “That’s current Earthling salutationary slang, is it not?” Raine slowly nodded.

For several minutes the two women stood looking at one another, neither quite sure what to say. Grikxzax was furiously thinking, ‘I hate my dad for sending me here – I ought to say something, but I have no idea what’, while Raine furiously thought, ‘Just say to her “It’s cool. I think I might be from outer space, too”’. Instead, neither spoke and the awkward silence continued for some time. Finally, unable to stand the tension any longer, Raine thrust her foot towards the woman and cried, “I have eleven toes!”

The awkward silence promptly resumed. After a bit, Grikxzax removed his high heels and looked at his own feet. “Ah, yes,” he said at last, “you are probably wondering why I, an ordinary Earthling like you, only have ten toes. You see,” his mind raced, silently cursing Krixzx for leaving off a toe, “I tragically lost my eleventh when I was but a child in a terrible, uh,” he nearly said ‘xenon laser mishap’ but he knew that would be unlikely for an Earthling. Just in time he revised his story, “in a terrible dental floss mishap.” He looked at Raine to try and determine if what he had said made any sense. Of course, her ugly Earthling mug told him nothing. So, for good measure, he added grimly, “I’ve not been the same since.”

“Dude,” Raine said at last. “This is far out.” Grikxzax breathed a sigh of relief. He had no idea what that meant, but it sounded like his story was a good one. Her courage plucked up, Raine continued, “So, can I, like, ride in your spaceship or something?”

Grikxzax swallowed nervously; she was on to him, “Of course, I don’t have a spaceship! I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said. Perhaps she was making a joke? He hoped so and figured he’d better work on that assumption, “Haha,” he said, rather dryly, “haha. Of course, if you help me with my mission, I’d be more than happy to give you a ride in whatever vehicle I, as a normal Earthling, am likely to have.”

Raine considered this, “You’re on a mission?”

Grikxzax explained, “I’m looking for something of great power.”

Raine nodded, “What kind of power?”

Grikxzax wasn’t really sure. He’d seen pictures of the scroll in books, but he didn’t know how to describe it to an Earthling. “You know,” he said, “an exhilaration of the senses. A rapturous ecstasy.”

“Oh,” Raine said, “I understand now.” Raine winked at Grikxzax. “I think I know just the guy you need to talk to.”

Grikxzax couldn’t believe his luck! The first Earthling he talked to knew where to find the sacred scroll! “Please tell me where to find this Earthling. I am most interested in speaking with him!”

Raine nodded, “He lives in Flagstaff. You can wait at the bus stop there,” she pointed, “and take the number 64 bus west. His apartment is on the corner of 6th and Oak, unit number 3B. Ask for ‘Dylan’. Tell him Raine sent you.”

Grikxzax bowed and said “Thank you very much, Earthling.” And he hurried off towards the bus stop.

“You owe me a ride in your spaceship when you get back!” Raine called after him. Grikxzax hurried faster.

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Dylan was young at heart. At least, that’s what people said when they had to write a letter of recommendation for him. Naturally, it meant he was a man who thought he was eighteen despite all evidence to the contrary (for example, the fact that he was bald). It meant that at an age when he should have owned a mini-van and spent time discussing his stock portfolio, he owned a moped and spent time throwing parties for college students from Northern Arizona University (go lumberjacks!). It meant that he owned no suits, but that he owned two different t-shirts that read ‘I am a bomb technician; if you see me running, try to keep up’ just in case one was really dirty (and, to Dylan, there was an important difference between ‘sort of dirty’ and ‘really dirty’ when it came to clothing).

In fact, it was during just such a party, and while Dylan was wearing just such a t-shirt (college chicks really dig funny shirts), that a knock at the door came.

attachment.php


Now, under most circumstances, someone knocking on the door during a party is not all that surprising. But, during one of Dylan’s parties, it was rather unusual because all of his friends just walked right in. Of course, the sense that something was awry was only reinforced when the caller said loudly through the door, “Please admit me. I must speak with the Earthling named Dylan immediately.”

Dylan looked at the door and motioned for a girl close to it to see who it was. The girl opened the door a crack and peeked out. She took one look at the official looking woman waiting impatiently on the other side, and she slammed it shut. She then yelled a word that Grikxzax had never heard before. “It’s the cops or something, Dylan! Or maybe someone from the university. You’d better hide all this stuff, man.”

Dylan yelled back, “Shut up! Don’t you think the cop can hear you from the other side of the door?”

Grikxzax waited as he heard a great commotion from inside the apartment. There was a lot of clatter as things were hastily rearranged and there was a lot of cursing, though Grikxzax wasn’t quite sure what it all meant. At length, the door was finally opened and a flustered looking man stood before him, his cheeks flushed with exertion. “Good evening, Ma’am,” the man said, “is there something I can help you with?”

Grikxzax echoed the greeting, “Good evening, Ma’am,” as he pushed his way into the room despite Dylan trying ever-so-strategically to block his entrance. “I’m looking for the Earthling named ‘Dylan’.” Grikxzax surveyed the room. About two dozen college-age Earthlings were crammed into the too-small apartment. Most sat on furniture or window-sills studiously laboring over books or calculators. One girl was passed out on the rug in the middle of the room.

“I’m Dylan,” the man who had answered the door offered, as he tried to push Grikxzax out of his apartment.

Grikxzax ignored the man trying to remove him and, instead, commented off-handedly, “You certainly have a lot of roommates, Dylan.”

Dylan laughed nervously, “Hehe… Oh, you’re funny. Of course, I’m just helping these youngsters study. Finals are coming up, you know.” Grikxzax looked at the girl passed out in the middle of the floor. Dylan grabbed a blanket and through it over her as he explained, “Studying sure can wear a person out!” He began to sweat profusely.

“Yes, I see,” Grikxzax said, “I’m sorry to have interrupted. But, I’ve come here to see you for a particular reason. I’ve recently been talking to a girl by the name of Raine.”

Dylan turned bright red and said, “Yea…”

Grikxzax noticed his reaction. “Oh, good; you know the Earthling I speak of. In that case, you probably know why I’m here.”

Dylan’s flush persisted and he began to speak animatedly, “Look, she said she was eighteen – I swear she said she was eighteen!”

Grikxzax looked at him with a puzzled expression, “Yes, Dylan… I’m sure she did.” Grikxzax paused for a moment, completely baffled – these Earthlings usually made no sense whatsoever – and then he continued, “I’m afraid that doesn’t help me, though… I’m here because she told me you could help me locate something of great power.”

Dylan looked both relieved and perplexed. “Excuse me?”

Grikxzax sighed, “Raine said that you could tell me where to find something I’m looking for – it contains the power of the ambrosia of the gods. An explosion of the senses; a rapturous ecstasy.”

Dylan looked around at the other people in the room nervously as if he weren’t sure what to do. Grikxzax took the opportunity to reflect upon the fact that this was most definitely not worth going through to bail his dad out. He figured that when he got back to the ship, he had better be exempt from chores for at least two weeks.

Finally, Dylan turned back to Grikxzax, “Um, so, are you a cop or something?”

“A cop?” Grikxzax asked.

“A policewoman – are you a police officer?” Dylan was growing a bit exasperated.

Grikxzax looked surprised, “Of course not. What bizarre questions you ask. I’m not a police officer. I’m just an average Earthling like yourself – a friend of Raine’s. Now, are you going to help me or not?”

Dylan thought about it for a moment and then he drew a small plastic baggy from his pocket with some pills in it and offered it to Grikxzax. “I can sell you this, if you want it. Is this what you came for?”

Grikxzax took the bag and looked at it curiously. “No, I’m afraid that this is most certainly not what I came for.”

Dylan threw his hands up in frustration, “Then what do you want?”

Grikxzax tossed the pills to the side (two students left their textbooks to greedily gather them up as they spilled from the bag), “I’m looking for a document.” Dylan’s expression was blank, so Grikxzax tried again, “A recipe! I need the recipe!”

Dylan responded, “Oh… I can’t help you with that.”

“Do you know who can help me, Earthling?”

“Maybe,” Dylan shrugged, “I know a guy down in Phoenix – his name’s Vinny – who might be able to hook you up.”

Grikxzax raised an eyebrow questioningly, “Hook me up to what?” He wasn’t sure what that meant, but it sounded painful and, most certainly, not like something he wanted.

“Uh, he might be able to get you the recipe you want. If I give you his phone number, will you leave?”

Grikxzax nodded. Dylan scribbled down Vinny’s phone number, and, as promised, Grikxzax left. On the way out, he took one last look at Dylan and the students, shrugged his shoulders and offered, “Personally, I study better when I’m sober.”

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

The bus ride south to Phoenix was much longer than the previous one and Grikxzax didn’t arrive until the following morning. The Earthling costume was cramping him and he was sincerely hoping that he would be in possession of the scroll soon. Hoping to wrap things up quickly, Grikxzax found the first phone booth he could when he arrived in Phoenix and called Vinny. In fact, he not only called him, but also woke Vinny up – in his excitement to get the scroll and go home, Grikxzax neglected to consider the fact that most people who deal in black-market recipes are not up and about at six in the morning. Considering that, the conversation was remarkably civil. Vinny managed to overlook the fact that the woman on the phone kept calling him ‘Earthling’, and Grikxzax managed to overlook the fact that, despite Vinny’s whining, he was also very tired himself (the bus ride was bumpy and he was still badly jet-lagged – intergalactic flight has a way of wreaking havoc with one’s internal clock). Vinny already knew what Grikxzax wanted (Dylan had called him the night before) and, since he was awake, agreed to meet for breakfast in an hour.

Passing the time until they were to meet, Grikxzax spent the morning watching the news in a shop window. Although he didn’t learn anything about sacred scrolls of power, he did learn of other important world events such as what color purse Paris Hilton carried most recently (periwinkle) and where Lindsay Lohan’s career is headed (nowhere).

At seven sharp, he headed to the restaurant and found a table for himself and Vinny. The restaurant was fairly crowded with business people coming and going before work, but Vinny was able to find Grikxzax based on his description of himself – ‘a brown-skinned Earthling, with silver hoops dangling from my head, wearing a dark jacket and skirt, and having only ten toes thanks to a tragic childhood dental floss mishap’.

Besides the awkwardness of Grikxzax not actually being able to eat in his costume, and besides the awkwardness of neither party having any clue what the other was talking about, the conversation was going remarkably well. At least, that is, until Vinny got up and politely excused himself from the table.

Figuring that according to some custom unknown to him, the conversation was moving to another room, Grikxzax got up and followed Vinny from a distance. Sure enough, Vinny disappeared into a private conference room (marked with a little stick-figure Earthling on the door). Briefly, Grikxzax wondered what the difference was between that room and the one next to it with a skirt-wearing Earthling drawn on the door, but he didn’t dwell on it – if this room worked for Vinny, it worked for him.

On the other side of the door, though, Grikxzax found a scene quite different from what he had expected. There were no tables – rather, just a row of sinks and, along the far wall, a row of bizarre looking, low sinks. Vinny stood at one of these low, unusual sinks. Another man stood at a sink a couple down from him in a similar pose – both men faced away from Grikxzax and he couldn’t tell what it was they were doing, though it was clearly something that required some level of concentration.

Intrigued, and not wanting to offend, Grikxzax wandered up to the open sink between the two men and assumed their pose. Curious as to what they were doing there, Grikxzax took a glance at what Vinny was up to.

attachment.php


Horror immediately grabbed at him – not only was he short a toe, those old fools Hratnikc and Krixzx had made his suit without an entire appendage! And now, thanks to this deficiency, he couldn’t partake in whatever custom it was these Earthlings were engaged in! Would it insult Vinny that he didn’t join them? Would it keep him from getting the scroll? Grikxzax’s mind raced and then a solution occurred to him. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it would do. Trying to act as natural as possible, he pulled one of his green tentacles out of the top of his skirt and let it hang down like the other Earthlings. He looked at Vinny again and flashed a smug smile. Vinny looked at him.

“What are you doing in…” then Vinny glanced down and saw Grikxzax’s appendage. He screamed, zipped up a bit too hastily, screamed again, and practically ran from the room. “This meeting is over, you freak!” he called as the door shut behind him.

The man on Grikxzax’s other side looked over to see what the fuss was about, saw the tentacle, and let out a long whistle, “Honey,” he told Grikxzax, “You really ought to have a doctor look at that – it don’t look healthy.” And with those words of wisdom, he, too, left the room.

Grikxzax was alone. He slumped to the floor depressed – his Earthling costume was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, he was quite hungry, and his best lead was gone; how was he supposed to find the sacred scroll now?

It was then that the door swung open and another Earthling walked in – at least, it seemed at first glance to be an Earthling. But, when he looked closer, Grikxzax realized that it was clearly a phony Earthling costume. He stood up, studied the Earthling more carefully, and then cried, “Xrinthus, is that you?”

The Earthling stopped, looked at him and then exclaimed, “Grikxzax! What a surprise!”

Grikxzax made the traditional tentacle waving greeting salute (made possible by the fact that his tentacle was still hanging out of his skirt). Another Earthling entered, took one look at the salute in action and promptly left. Grikxzax laughed and asked, “What are you doing in Phoenix, Xrinthus?”

“Oh, you know, the usual stuff,” Grikxzax shrugged, “campaigning for the primaries. But, what about you – shouldn’t you be with your family on the mother-ship?”

“I wish,” Grikxzax sighed. “Unfortunately, I’m on a mission. I can’t go home until I find the sacred scroll that my dad lost all those years ago. The worst part is that I’ve got no leads.” Xrinthus grew strangely quiet when he heard this. Grikxzax squinted at him, “Why aren’t you saying anything, Xrinthus? Do you know something about the scroll?”

Xrinthus nodded sheepishly.

Grikxzax waved his arms in the closest thing he could get to the traditional ‘I can’t believe you knew where a cultural relic was for years and didn’t tell anyone’ pose considering the Earthling outfit that he wore. “Xrinthus, why wouldn’t you have told us what you knew long ago?”

Xrinthus spread his palms helplessly, “If I told you where it was, you would have taken it and then I would never have experienced that marvelous recipe here on Earth.”

“Xrinthus!” Grikxzax cried.

“I know, I know, it was a selfish thing to do. Look, I’ll take you to it now, if you want. It’s in Michigan, but we can take my jet.”

Grikxzax nodded, “I think that will be good,” tucked his tentacle back into his skirt, washed his hands, and left.

On the way out, Xrinthus asked him, “Dude, did you forget to flush?”

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

The plane ride was thoroughly miserable for Grikxzax. He found that Earthling air travel was inferior to riding in a saucer in nearly every way. His Earth instructor back home and told him that the only redeeming thing about flying in an Earth plane was that their airlines were still primitive enough that they fed you peanuts on the plane (of course, it is common knowledge that as airlines evolve, the food served decreases in amount and quality – for example, back at his first flight in Kitty Hawk, Orville Wright was served a full seven course dinner. Think of that the next time you’re on a plane and have to choose between pretzels and peanuts for dinner!). Unfortunately for Grikxzax, Xrinthus tried to be more civil on his jet than other Earthlings were and, therefore, he didn’t serve any food. Hence, Grikxzax’s involuntary fast continued.

After several grueling hours, the plane landed, and Grikxzax was able to happily get back onto solid ground (though, sadly, his luggage was somehow lost).

The airplane ride was followed by a lengthy trip in one of Xrinthus’s cars. Finally, they left the car when the road ended, and finished the journey on foot through dense forests.

The sun had nearly set when Grikxzax and Xrinthus at last entered a clearing. There, before them, stood a magnificent tree with a small door built into its base.

attachment.php


“Is this the place?” Grikxzax asked, “Is this where the scroll is kept.”

Before Xrinthus could answer, though, the door to the tree swung open and a veritable stream of miniature Earthlings with pointed ears and funny hats appeared.

Grikxzax stood stunned for a moment, not sure what to say. At last he remembered his manners and said, “Greetings, Earthlings. I am Grikxzax. Who are you?”

The first small creature introduced himself as ‘Ernie’. The next was ‘Elwood’. They all, in turn, introduced themselves.

Grikxzax furrowed his brow and asked, “No Legolas?”

Ernie spit on the ground. “Pansy. We wouldn’t let him in our tree if he begged.” The other small Earthlings all laughed at this. “Come on,” Ernie said, “I’ll give you the tour.”

As if in a dream, Grikxzax followed Ernie into the tree. As he came into the large common room, he saw what was undeniably the sacred scroll proudly framed and displayed over the fireplace (yes, there was a fireplace in a tree. No, don’t ask me how).

Grikxzax pointed at the scroll, “The sacred recipe,” he said. “May I taste…”

Before he could even finish asking the question, though, Elwood appeared with a great tray of cookies (all, bizarrely, shaped like their makers). He brought it straight to Grikxzax and Xrinthus, who each took several.

As he bit the head from a small elf cookie, Grikxzax wondered if it was cannibalistic for Ernie and Elwood to eat things that looked just like them, but before he could ask, he suddenly understood the taste of the ambrosia and he was overwhelmed with what can only be described as an exhilaration of the senses; a rapturous ecstasy.

In time, after having thoroughly gorged themselves on cookies and having come out of their rapturous stupors, Grikxzax and Xrinthus discussed buying the recipe back from the elves. And though they weren’t keen on giving up the business, Ernie and the others eventually agreed when Xrinthus offered them enough money that they could all retire to the Caribbean with enough left over that they could also afford to pay for the immigration of their relatives who were currently working in sweat shops at the North Pole.

Grikxzax Jr. returned victoriously home but, sadly, was rewarded not with an allowance raise or an exemption from chores but, instead, with the traditional ‘my childhood was tough, so yours had darned well better be, also’ pose and a spiel about the ‘old days’. All the same, he was terribly happy to be back home.
 

Round 2 Match 4 - Trench vs. Cevalic

72 hours, 4 pictures, no word limit. Picture 3 courtesy of maxfieldjadenfox. Pictures posted at 1304 GMT.
 

Attachments

  • Picture 1.jpg
    Picture 1.jpg
    65.9 KB · Views: 131
  • Picture 2.jpg
    Picture 2.jpg
    15.1 KB · Views: 132
  • Picture 3.jpg
    Picture 3.jpg
    142.8 KB · Views: 138
  • Picture 4.JPG
    Picture 4.JPG
    16.2 KB · Views: 131

Avatar_V

First Post
Whoa, I just read Awayfarer's story (very good, by the way - I've got tough competition!) and let me just say - [sblock] What the heck?! We both decided to make one of the guys at the urinal a shady character named 'Vinny'? And we both had the chick by the teepee converse with her shadow? Talk about a strange coincidence! Heh, I guess he really must look like a 'Vinny' :) [/sblock]
 
Last edited:

Remove ads

Top