Challenge

A 351-post collection

So, how're those plotbunnies coming along?

You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club. – RecklessPrudence

(#00298)

Walter had left his house unlocked. Everything inside was in more disarray than usual. There was no sign of Walter and, most alarming off all, the cage was empty.

The cage that contained possibly the most dangerous creature in the world. Correction, the cage that had contained, etcetera. Which meant that It must have got out.

Take a breath. Keep calm. Look at the evidence. Track them both down and remember to grab the re-enforced net and the chain mail gloves. One bite was more than plenty.

How Walter could withstand them on a regular basis was a permanent mystery. But it was his resilience that made him the best guardian/captor of the beast.

Properly equipped, Lorraine followed the trail of wreckage from Walter’s flat, down the fire escape, through several shady alleys and half a park. She finally found Walter in an old subway station. It was an unpopular stop, even amongst the homeless, so Walter and his own version of armor went unseen and unremarked, down here.

The last time It had got out, the news about It was almost as disastrous as It was.

Walter called It Fluffykins.

“Great, you’re here,” Walter smiled. He’d had a glancing relationship with reality ever since It turned up in his life. He may have had one, before, but Lorraine never knew him before he went weird. “Shall we flip for Bait Duty?”

“You be bait,” Lorraine decided. “You’re used to it.”

“I hate being bait.”

“But you do such great work at it,” cooed Lorraine. “Here. Have a legal brief on proper office conduct. You’re waiting for the 5:57.”

Walter groaned theatrically, but took the brief and sat on a bench in the middle of the lonely platform like a pro.

Lorraine concealed herself almost from view behind a column bedecked in disintegrating flyers.

It was fast, but It could never resist boredom. That was one of the reasons It was attracted to waiting rooms, bus stations and train platforms. Areas of boredom were irresistible. And so was someone being bored.

THERE! A streak of purple and pink, racing across the area where Walter sat, ploughing through each and every perplexing word of the brief. Lorraine knew better than to swipe at the first pass.

A second blur. A nearby trash can wobbled and -yes- she could see Its fluffy pink tail behind it. One more pass…

A third. It was focussed solely on Walter, now. Hungry for boredom.

Lorraine ditched her noisy shoes and crept up on It, net ready.

She lunged just as It pounced, catching it neatly in the net with a cry of victory.

“O God. I nearly had a heart attack… You got it?”

Lorraine looked briefly at the net, where Fluffykins was growling and snorting like a demon caught in a cassock. “No, Walter, I let it go. Of course I caught it.”

Walter ignored the sarcasm and swapped the brief for the net. “Aaaw, da poor widdwe fluffy-wuffy-kinnnssss…”

Bleh… “I think it chewed its way out again. You really need to start making a better grade of Plotbunny cage.”

Walter shrugged. “My fault for having an unusual pet, I guess.”

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Death and Ding-Dong Ditchers

Don’t knock on death’s door. Ring the bell and run. He hates that.

Bonus points if you have Death be somewhat Pratchettian. – RecklessPrudence

(#00297)

“What is this? Another bubble-reality? Why is everything shades of black?”

“Aw fook,” growled Shayde. “This isnae a bubble. It’s a pocket.”

“There are pocket realities?”

“Aye, where d'ye think I keep all me shit?”

Rael glared at her. “Seriously.

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Found this somewhere.

I know you can’t drink most alcohol, and I’m leery of too much of the stuff myself - but I can’t help but like this quote:

I ran screaming out of adolescence, and when I hit the border somebody gave me the legal right to drink. It’s all just finely tuned memory loss since then. – RecklessPrudence

(#00296)

“And why can’t such a fine lady as yourself go out dancing with

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The whole set

Since submitting those corallaries scavenged from around the net, I find it interesting to contemplate what you could do with the whole, original, set.

You probably know them already, but just in case, Clarke’s Laws:

  1. When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong.
  2. The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past
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Yet _another_ corallary.

Any sufficiently analysed magic is indistinguishable from SCIENCE! – RecklessPrudence

(#00294)

“This thing is full of crystals… and silver wire… is that a bird feather?”

“Can you fix it?”

“At this point, I can’t even tell what’s broken.” She tapped a crystal and noted a musical chime. Also that some connected crystals illuminated from within. “Hmnh…”

“That was an expensive noise…”

“I think I can figure it

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A corollary to Clarke's Third Law

Any technology, no matter how primitive, is magic to those who don’t understand it. – RecklessPrudence

(#00293)

Through a series of unfortunately predictable events, they were now stuck in the middle of nowhere with inadequate camping supplies, a cubic meter of marshmallows, three idiots and a whole bunch of electronica that was out of their service area and therefore as useful as a meringue umbrella.

Miri didn’t bother listening to the arguments since they had got cyclical. What

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Another corallary to Clarke's Third Law

Any sufficiently advanced psychological warfare is indistinguishable from a hostile paranormal. –RecklessPrudence

(#00292)

It is possible to manufacture bad luck. All that is required are enough inside people. It may also be necessary to have a unified or unifying mythos to attribute such bad luck to.

Take, for example, the retaking of The-Mining-Station-In-The-Fifth-Orbital-Ring-Surrounding-Star-B198Y36SQ3(*) by its original human inhabitants.

The independent evolution of both psychological warfare and technomancy in an isolated environment is miraculous enough, but the fact that this was achieved

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Sound advice.

If all else fails, try reading the instructions. – RecklessPrudence

(#00291)

Rael had run out of the regular curses and was busy running through the extensive selection of historical ones.

“I was always fond o’ ‘poo bum wee willy willy tits’, meself.”

He startled and hit his head on the overhead. Of course Shayde found him. She always found him when he was up to his elbows in problems and especially didn’t need a Shayde-shaped

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A line from Pacific Rim.

“I’ve never believed in the End Times. We are mankind. Our footprints are on the moon. When the last trumpet sounds and the Beast rises from the pit — we will kill it.”


Curious to see what you do with it. – RecklessPrudence

(#00290)

At first, shortly after the Galactic Community realized humans could be occasionally useful, there was a great deal of prejudice.

Which is pretty normal, considering that generations of trepidation had gone into previously avoiding the

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Failure Modes

“Hilarious” is the failure mode for horror; “nonsense” is the failure mode for conspiracy; “stereo instructions” is the failure mode for SF. –RecklessPrudence

(#00289)

Wishing many happy luck fall on your head following purchase of Penumbra 3K Foraging scavenger vessel!

For program of soaring trail, open star tracings jar. Signal loved star arrival.

For vacuuming gather, open eat jar. Signal for eat debris.

For living air, open cloud jar. Signal for atomic cloud love.

*

Hwell

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Because science is amazing.

Someone’s comments on this article.

And God said “Let there be light.”

And Man said “Oh I’ve got to figure out how he does that.”

And verily, did Man pull photons out of the screaming abyss.

Seriously, that’s amazing. Any day now I expect someone to march out of CERN wearing their labcoat over a wizard’s robe and announce that it turns out magic is real. – RecklessPrudence

(#00288)

She

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How I have felt, on occasion.

Critical system Error at WhattheflyingF.exe
Restoring brain from backup. – RecklessPrudence

(#00287)

“You broke him!”

“Nah-uh. You broke him!”

“You’re the one who told him the fifth pun!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

Billie the Walter Girl sighed and reached for the Number Five hammer. About thirty PSI seemed about right.

{CLANG!}

“Somebody told a pun,” complained The Spine as he rebooted.

“Yeah, your logic circuits can&

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For when Holy Water just won't do...

After a series of unfortunate events I need to know where you can get a ballistic missile sanctified. Preferably with no questions asked. – RecklessPrudence

(#00286)

Blemisch looked over the data again. The weapons of science had had little effect on the beast currently corralled in a crevasse. However, science had determined that certain materials with occult significance had had some impact.

Her team was not the Mythbusters - they were busy. However, certain Mythbuster fans were just as good.

If a

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Since I know you got started writing DS9 stuff...

(please note, this does not _have_ to be Star Trek, use whatever fits)

Species 8472 could be reasoned with. They could be bargained with. And they sure as hell did not drive one insane with their mere presence,

The Medusans do.

You have to understand, the Federation has one of the ballsiest diplomatic corps in fiction. They’re the guys who have to walk up to Cthulhu and make friends. – RecklessPrudence

(#00285)

There is a saying in Starfleet: There’

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Challenge #00278: Den of Iniquity

Jacqui, the blackie, the lackey named Pertwee (and yes I know she’s a she! :P) and the almost comical bond formed watching the terrorist let loose in a crafts store.

[AN: Can we not have racist (or any –ist) words in submissions, please? No matter how cute it might be that it rhymes, it is not a nice word.]

John Smith had come to catch the mutant out. He still suspected that Scott Summers was somehow cheating, even after

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