Tagged: parody

Blunderball Ebook Now Available!

I figured I’d get my 2018 flash fiction anthology out while it was still 2018. Blunderball is now available on Smashwords for $0.99 and should soon appear at other non-Amazon retailers. I’ll aim to get it on Amazon as well before too long, but until then Smashwords also has a Kindle version available so if that’s your device of choice then I recommend getting it there. It isn’t hard to do. A paperback version is in the works as well.

This is actually the fourth book in which my writing has appeared this month, after Unrealpolitik, The Ruminations of a Multiheaded Monster, and of course Ten Little Astronauts!

If you’ve read any of these (or a significant number of the individual stories that make up Blunderball), please do consider leaving a review at your retailer of choice (or Goodreads). It makes such a difference.

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Cragne Manor

Not so long ago, I contributed to Cragne Manor, a massive (80+ authors) interactive fiction project created as a tribute to Anchorhead. The game is now finished, and you can play it in your browser!

This is quite a different sort of game to the things I’ve made with Twine. It’s a parser-based text adventure, meaning that instead of simply clicking links you must control it by typing things like “go north,” “take key,” and “hit shoggoth with inflatable novelty hammer.” I’ve got no idea if that last one is ever an option in the game. I’ve got no idea what’s in the game at all beyond the one room I designed, to be honest. It might be terrible! The opening text suggests that it is (and that that’s part of the fun).

It also offers quite a list of objectionable content that appears in the game, so maybe not one for the squeamish. It is cosmic horror after all!

California James and the Chapel of Rome

Flash Fiction Month 2018, Day 30

“Come on, Squat Runt!”

“Can we rethink my nickname, Doctor James? I feel as though it crosses the line from affectionately disparaging to actually hurtful.”

“There’s no time! We have to reach the Sistine Chapel before that albino monk gets—”

A hooded figure stepped out from the doorframe. “My ears are burning,” said the monk.

“Well, I’m not surprised,” said California James. “It is an exceptionally sunny day.” Continue reading

Satan and His Robot Buddy Paul

Flash Fiction Month 2018, Day 29

EXT. SAINT SWITHUN’S HOME FOR EXCEPTIONALLY BIG-EYED ORPHANS – MORNING

We see the sun rising over St. Swithun’s Home for Exceptionally Big-eyed Orphans, which is prominently signposted. Birds are singing. Peaceful flute music – you know the music I mean – plays.

Record scratch. The music stops.

Woman screams.

CUT TO:

INT. SAINT SWITHUN’S HOME FOR ETC. KITCHEN – CONTINUOUS

MRS. WITHERSPOON continues screaming, hands clasped to her face. She screams for some time, eyes wide with horror. Finally, we see what she was screaming about. There is a plate on the kitchen table covered with the smeared remains of a cake. Icing is splattered liberally all around.

MRS. WITHERSPOON: Who can possibly deduce who ate the orphans’ precious cake?

Tyres screech outside.

Brutal guitar solo plays.

TITLE CARD: “SATAN AND HIS ROBOT BUDDY PAUL” Continue reading

Wolf in Sheepish Clothing

Flash Fiction Month 2018, Day 27

“Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in!”

“Not by the hair on your chinny-chin-chin!”

“Guys, seriously, could we not do this right now? The delivery guy called while I was in the bath and when I ran out to try and catch him the door swung shut behind me. I’m wearing nothing but a towel and it’s not even a particularly big towel. Could you please just let me in off the street? It’s freezing out here.”

The pigs conferred with one another.

“That sounds like a lie,” said the first little pig.

“People do tend to throw in a lot of extra details when they lie,” offered the second.

“How do we know you’re not going to eat us?” asked the third.

There was a sigh from the other side of the door. “Look, your house is made of straw. If I wanted to eat you, I could knock it down just by breathing on it. But obviously that wouldn’t help me get out of the cold now, would it?”

“I dunno…” said the first pig.

“Come on, guys! What reason could I possibly have for asking you to let me in if I could just smash right through the wall like the Kool-Aid man?”

“Yeah?” said the second pig. “Well what reason could you have for coming to our house out of all the houses on Lollipop Lane? We’re not exactly on good terms, you know.”

“You think this is the first place I’ve tried? Humptey Dumptey was cracking up, the old woman who lives in the shoe just ogled my butt the whole time, and Wee Willie Winkie wouldn’t stop making dick jokes. Happy now?”

“Yeah, fair enough,” said third little pig, “come on in.” And he unlocked the door.

“Hang on,” said the first pig. “Does the wolf even wear clothes?”

“Actually, now that you mention it…”

“Oh, shit. It’s Dracula.”

“Haha!” shouted Dracula as he bounded inside. “Who’s the sucker now?”

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.

Squinter Cell: Pandora Whenever

Flash Fiction Month 2018, Day 26

Challenge #12: Write a story that includes a powerful janitor, incompetent guards, and a substance with miraculous properties. One of these elements must be inverted.

“Intruder is in air vents. Please advise.”

“Do not deviate from patrol route. I repeat: do not deviate from patrol route.”

“But he’s banging around in there and it’s super obvious and the boss is just down the hall.”

“Look. Which of these sounds better? ‘Gee, the Pandora Virus is missing! The guy who took it must have been a total ghost because literally nobody noticed him,’ or ‘Hey, about that dude who got all the way into the bioweapons lab before anyone raised the alarm. He must have been super quiet right up until he started trying to cram his entire body through a flimsy metal duct.’ Because—”

“Oh God,” the guard whispered into his collar mic. “He’s stopped. I think he knows I can hear him!”

“Okay,” said Tim. “Stay calm and repeat after me: ‘Man, I can’t believe that creaky old vent’s acting up again.’”

“Man. I can’t believe that creaky old vent is acting up again.”

From the safety of the broom closet, Tim heard the unmistakable sound of knees mangling sheet metal start up once more. It really was loud: like RoboCop trying to hump a wobble board. Continue reading

Blunderball

Flash Fiction Month 2018, Day 25

“The name’sh Bont. George Bont.”

“George Bont the international super-spy?”

“Uhh…no. I’m a different George Bont.”

Le Chauffeur whipped out his phone. “Are you sure? Because you look just like this George Bont on Facebook: employed at MI6.”

“That can’t be me. I’m an economisht.”

“Really? Explain quantitative easing to me.”

“Uhhh…”

There were skeptical looks from the various scarred and eyepatched people around the Blackjack table.

“Oh, darn,” said George Bont. “I’m really not very good at thish.”

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.

Tomorrow Never Lives and Lets a License to Kill Die Another Day

Flash Fiction Month 2018, Day 23

“Do you exschpect me to talk?”

“No, Mr. Bont, I expect you to watch this PowerPoint presentation detailing my elaborate scheme to hold the world to ransom.” Eugene Stelios Boccali directed his laser pointer towards the large screen hanging from the wall and clicked a button to bring up the presentation.

“Thatsh a relief,” said George Bont, international super-spy. “I wash worried that the laysher might have been for something elshe.” Continue reading

The Dearth of Superman

Flash Fiction Month 2018, Day 20

“Today we remember Therm O’Nuclear,” announced Captain Caulk, with tears in his mighty eyes. “Though to those present now, he was perhaps better known as Major Megaton. He will be most dearly missed.”

“Oh, sure,” muttered Tsar Kazm. “I mean, it’s not as if any of us have ever turned up after dying before. Like, that’s not a thing superheroes are known for doing or anything.”

Captain Caulk glowered at him.

Suddenly, the church doors banged open. A lone figure stood spandex-clad and silhouetted in the space between them.

It was Spiderguy.

“Sorry I’m late!” he whispered as he edged his way awkwardly down one of the pews at the back. “Kind of embarrassing: I got stuck in the bath.”

Captain Caulk cleared his throat. “As you will all probably be aware, Major Megaton’s body was sadly never found—”

“Also not a massive hint he’ll be back!” said Tsar Kazm, less quietly this time. Continue reading

How to Pain Your Dragon

Flash Fiction Month 2018, Day 18

“Foolish knight,” hissed the dragon. “Did you think this place would be unguarded? Did you think the moat its only defence? None who pass through those gates return alive, for all who do must face me.”

“Okay,” said the knight. “Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? Obviously I’m gonna fight anyone who comes here. Do you really think they’d leave a dragon in a tower just to welcome people in?”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

The dragon made an annoyed little noise. “Only Queen Harriet the Third and the nobles of her court. Geez! You don’t see a lot of dragons guarding pubs, do you? I mean, it’s pretty much royalty or nothing, innit?”

“Why?”

“Because dragons guard treasure and the cash box at the Dog and Pheasant isn’t exactly going to cut it!” Continue reading