Tagged: parody

Girth Loinhammer’s Most Exponential Adventure Now Complete!

Girth Loinhammer’s Most Exponential Adventure is now complete! It took 25 months to write and is comprised of 1023 passages of text totalling 181,029 words (107 of which are “nuts” and 62 of which are “balls”). At least 1,024 of those words are simply “The End,” which should give you some idea of the range of alternate endings available. If you’ve been following for a while, you’ll know that it was always planned to have 512 of the things.

I’ll be attempting to screenshot the entire flowchart at some point to give some idea of the scale, but don’t currently have the necessary hardware attached to my computer. The full thing – even at the minimum level of magnification that Twine allows – spreads across eight monitors, so the only way I can actually capture it is to spread it across two and use those to grab the four corners of the chart, which I later stitch together. Continue reading

Advertisements

Beneath the Black Flag

Flash Fiction Month 2017, Day 26

“Yarr!” cried Long Schlong Silver, one hand on the hilt of his mighty cutlass. “I be on a quest for booty!”

The crew of the boarded vessel stared in awe at Silver’s glistening pecs, peeking coyly from his open, billowing shirt. For a moment, all were too distracted to speak.

Then the captain stepped forward, loosening his cravat. “Have heart, men!” he announced. “I’ll take care of this rogue.”

The captain spoke with a heavy accent. Silver couldn’t quite place where it came from, but he knew with every fibre of his being that it was deeply and innately sexy.

“So ye think ye can handle the legendary Long Schlong Silver?” he demanded, raising an eyebrow.

The captain stepped closer. “I’ve got a few ideas what to do with you.”

Silver took a step himself. He was now so close to the captain that their nipples were practically touching through the one shirt between them. “Do ye now?” Continue reading

The Chosen One

Flash Fiction Month 2017, Day 23

“You’re a wizard, Henry?”

“Wait…what?”

“You’re a wizard, Henry,” repeated the large, hairy man with the umbrella. “And a darn good’un!”

“Stop!” shouted a smaller hairy man with a laser sword as he leapt over the already-knocked-down door. “That man is an impostor! You’re actually a space wizard. He was going to try and trap you in some kind of fake wizard school here on Earth!”

“Stop!” shouted an even smaller scaly…person, also with a laser sword as he squeezed past the second guy. “This man is an impostor! You’re actually a space lizard. He was going to try and trap you on some dank swamp planet where you’d never discover your true reptilian nature!”

“Stop!” shouted a larger scaly person with a very long scarf. “This iguanaman is an impostor! You’re actually a time lizard. He was going to…”

“Henry?” A woman stepped through the door. “Henry, is everything alright? Who are you talking to?” Continue reading

Little Red and the Three Bunkers

Flash Fiction Month 2017, Day 19

Once upon a time there was a terrible dragon, which crawled along the ground on endless feet. The dragon was an ancient beast—forged long before Little Red was born—and only Grandmama was old enough to remember it. But Little Red had heard stories, and so when she saw the dragon coming she rolled her bike into a wooden bunker nearby and waited for it to pass.

But the dragon saw her inside with eyes of infra-red, and so it spoke: “Little Red, Little Red, let me come in.”

“Not by the spikes on your tinny-tin-tin!”

“Then I’ll huff, and I’ll puff, and I’ll blow your fort in!”

The dragon breathed out a huge gout of fire that burned the wooden bunker to ash, but Little Red was clever, and so in the commotion she escaped and rode away across the wasteland to a bunker of steel. Continue reading

And I Would Write 500 More

Flash Fiction Month 2017, Day 18

Challenge #8: Write a story at least 500 words in length including no unnecessary details whatsoever.

“Banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana banana,” proclaimed Captain Redundancy.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, you can find my work from previous Flash Fiction Months collected in these books:

OCR is Not the Only Font Cover REDESIGN (Barbecued Iguana)Red Herring Cover (Barbecued Iguana design)Bionic Punchline eBook CoverOsiris Likes This Cover

Click any cover to find that book in your choice of format.

You might also be interested in my sci-fi murder mystery novella, Ten Little Astronauts, which is currently crowdfunding at Unbound. Most pledge levels include all the books shown above, and all will include your name in the back of Ten Little Astronauts itself as a patron of my work.

Support it here!

The Shawshank Deception

Flash Fiction Month 2017, Day 17

“Uh-oh! Uh-oh!! Uh-oh!!!”

“What? What is it?” Mullins came running. The sound of the food tray clattering on the floor had been a bad sign. The “Uh-oh!”s might as well have been written in neon tubing with bells on.

“It’s Count Erfitter,” said Harris. “Or…I mean…it’s not.”

Mullins took a look through the bars of the cell. “Oh geez.” He breathed in through his teeth. “Oh geez. Oh man. We are so fired.”

“Hey, hey, let’s not go nuts. We’ve let plenty of supervillains escape before and Warden Burt’s always been remarkably understanding about it.”

“Yeah, but they had psychic powers or robot tentacles or acid pee! This guy had…he had…” Mullins gestured to the thing standing in the cell. “What even is this?”

“I think it’s pizza boxes, mostly?” Harris squinted at it. “There’s some toilet paper in there too. And I think the eyes are blue M&Ms and toothpaste.”

Mullins put his head in his hands. “We are so fired.”

“To be fair, I don’t think anybody could have anticipated he’d be able to stockpile that much cinnamon chewing gum. And he was known for his cardboard cutouts.”

“Yeah! When he had a full set of paints and hours to use them! But I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so easily fooled by something he cobbled together with bits from the guards’ lounge bin!”

“In my defence, it’s pretty convincing at a glance.”

“No it isn’t!”

“Yes it is. Look, it even talks!”

“That’s a speech bubble, Harris! When was the last time you said something and the words came out of your mouth scrawled in ketchup on the back of a cereal box?”

“Well, there was last year’s Christmas Party.”

“I thought we’d agreed to never speak of that again.”

For a moment, the two of them simply stood there in silence, watching Count Erfitter’s left eye slide down his cheek.

Mullins said nothing.

Harris said nothing.

Count Erfitter said “Salut, mon ami!” but technically he hadn’t stopped saying that since it’d been stuck on the oval-shaped bit of card next to his suspiciously square and corrugated face.

“Okay, serious talk: would it look better or worse if we’d just found the cell empty?”

“What, like he didn’t bother with a decoy and just did a runner?”

“Yeah.”

“Better. Definitely better.”

“Okay.” Mullins shook out a black bin bag. “I’ll chuck this thing in the dumpster, you…punch yourself in the face or something. Just tell the warden he got the drop on you when you went in to give him his food.”

“Hey! Why do I have to be the one to punch myself in the face!”

“Because you were the one who was supposed to go in the cell and if you don’t punch yourself I’ll do it for you!”

“Okay, okay!”

Mullins stepped inside the cell and took one last look at the hastily-constructed junk effigy of Count Erfitter before sweeping it into the black bag. He tutted. “Seriously, man, this is just embarrassing.”

Mullins carried the bag down the stairs, out the back, and heaved it into the dumpster by the prison wall. It was a thankless job at the best of times—dangerous, poorly paid, and with nowhere near enough support from city hall—but sometimes, every once in a while, he wondered if he and Harris were to blame with the steady stream of supervillains escaping their custody. Well, Harris anyway. Basically just Harris.

He turned to walk back to the cell block, and as he did so he spotted Warden Burt running towards him waving his arms. That too was a bad sign. That was the sort of bad sign that couldn’t be any clearer if it was written in blood, set on fire, and Godzilla was spinning it around with its tiny dinosaur arms.

“That was Count Erfitter!” yelled Warden Burt. “You just binned Count Erfitter!”

Mullins turned around to discover that the pizza box, toilet roll and chewing gum dummy had torn free of the binbag and was now climbing the prison wall.

“Au revoir!” he called, as he vanished over the other side.

“Oh…” said Mullins, as Burt finally reached the dumpster. “That’s not good.”

“Captain Caulk is coming to check on the prisoner in ten minutes,” said Burt, still catching his breath. “We’re all so fired.”

“Not necessarily.” Mullins reached into the dumpster and picked out a distressingly squashy watermelon.

Warden Burt stared at it.

“So we draw a face on this and stick it in the bed…”

If you’ve enjoyed this story, you can find my work from previous Flash Fiction Months collected in these books:

OCR is Not the Only Font Cover REDESIGN (Barbecued Iguana)Red Herring Cover (Barbecued Iguana design)Bionic Punchline eBook CoverOsiris Likes This Cover

Click any cover to find that book in your choice of format.

You might also be interested in my sci-fi murder mystery novella, Ten Little Astronauts, which is currently crowdfunding at Unbound. Most pledge levels include all the books shown above, and all will include your name in the back of Ten Little Astronauts itself as a patron of my work.

Support it here!

I’ll Be Back

Flash Fiction Month 2017, Day 16

“Okay, so here’s how we’ll do it: there’s this robot apocalypse and the robots go back in time to kill the leader of the human resistance before he’s born.”

“Wouldn’t work,” said Zara. “If they go back in time and kill him, he never starts leading the resistance in the first place.”

“Yeah. I know. That’s the point.”

“But then how do the robots know to go back in time and pre-kill him? I mean, they’ve got no reason to kill him if he’s already been dead for years.”

“Okay.” Callum took a deep breath. “Same situation, but the good guys send a good robot to go back in time and stop the bad one from killing the guy. Only it turns out that the remains of the bad robot are what let humankind build evil robots in the first place.”

“Still wouldn’t work. If the evil robots have to go back in time for evil robots to be invented, who invents evil robots the first time around?” Continue reading

Hans and Greta

Flash Fiction Month 2017, Day 14

Once upon a time there lived a poor peasant family. This family was so poor that they couldn’t afford free samples. This family was so poor that their front door and their back door shared a hinge. This family was so poor that ducks threw bread at them. More relevant to this particular story, though, this family was so poor that they had to send their two children, Hans and Greta, out into the woods because there was no food.

This might seem like bad parenting to begin with, but what made it even worse was that these particular woods were well known for being absolutely crammed full of sinister fairytale creatures that ate nothing but children and spoke only in rhyme. But Hans and Greta were both exceedingly clever—as children often are in this sort of story—and so although they found themselves cold, hungry and alone in a hostile forest, they were confident that they would soon make a home for themselves and live happily ever after.

However, innate personal attributes only get you so far without any material resources to back them up, and so by nightfall Hans and Greta were still cold, hungry and alone, but they had managed to dig up a small, hard, wild potato. So that was something. Continue reading

The Fox and the Grapevine

Flash Fiction Month 2017, Day 10

“Once upon a time there lived a little boy who liked to walk along the beach. One day he found a bottle washed up on the sand, and opened it in the hopes that there was a message inside. But there was no message. There was only an evil genie who popped out and said:

“‘Aha! Now that you have set me free, I shall wreak havoc all across the world! I shall be a terror like none that has ever been seen before!’

“But the boy was clever, and so he said: ‘I don’t know about that. I’ve heard tales of things much more terrifying than you.’

“‘Oh?’ said the genie, and it sat down right on the edge of the mouth of the bottle. ‘I should very much like to hear about that.’

“And so the boy began his tale: ‘Once upon a time there lived a dragon with teeth as big as oars and scales as big as rowboats, and it flew all around the Outer Hebrides frightening any it found upon the islands. Continue reading

Isn’t it Bionic?

Flash Fiction Month 2017, Day 7

There was a gentle click as the safe-cracker found the last digit of the combination. It was followed by a loud crash as the massive steel door swung violently outwards, catching him in the ribs.

“Oof!” said the safe-cracker, lying winded on the floor. He would have said something significantly less family-friendly, but his bones hurt too much to really manage anything but “Oof.”

“Eeeyeah!” shouted a man in an ostentatious red robot suit as he emerged from the suddenly-open safe. “You were trying to crack this safe, but instead the safe cracked you!”

“W-what?” the safe-cracker managed to wheeze.

“Also you wanted to get what was in the safe, but what was in the safe got you.”

There was a pause.

“What?” the safe-cracker managed to wheeze again.

“Tony Snark.” The guy in the robot suit held out his high-tech hand for the criminal to shake. “A.k.a. Irony Man.” Continue reading