Instant Story

Flash fiction fresh from my fingers to your mind!

Jean decides to go for the special award for community service offered by Bayville High in exchange for 200 hours of volunteering. Xavier...

(#00159)

“The prize is a car,” said Jean. “You have no idea what that means for me.”

“There’s something wrong with my car?” said Scott.

“Yeah, I have to go where you want to take me. I’m going for it.”

*

Jean opened the little envelope. “Looks like I’m a candy-striper at the veterans home. Huh.”

“Hooray,” deadpanned Kurt. “Bedpans and unwanted PDA’s from old folks.”

“Ignore him,” said Kitty. “He’s still bitter about the whole animal shelter fiasco.”

“You’ll get another chance,” predicted Jean. “Try them again during kitten/puppy season. They’re always swamped, then.”

“Hrumph.”

*

Jean secured the last bit of hairnet to find a fellow volunteer in andy-pandy overalls[1] and also a hairnet.

He looked at her. She looked at him. Both voiced the same thought at the same time. “Oh, just great.”

“You two know each other?” smiled the volunteer co-ordinator.

“Rivals,” supplied Jean. “But I’ll make an effort not to let that get in the way of our work.”

“You but out of this, miss perfect. I need that car!”

“Aren’t you already working two jobs?”

“Not since Speedy got me fired. But I took care of him. He’s doing courier work. On the other side of town.”

“And how about the other two?”

“Trek Marathon at the Odeon. They shouldn’t do too much damage.”

Jean breathed out. “Okay. Good. You should also know that there’s more than one car to win. So there’s no need for any kind of ‘special fireworks’, got that?”

“Yeah, I got no interest in more damage to pay off, thanks.”

“Then we have a deal.”

“Fine.”

They shook, and got on with the day.

*

Five hours later…

One wing of the Home was on fire. A broken hydrant sent a fountain of water twenty feet into the air. The runabout-painted minivan that broke it lay forlornly on its side in the middle of the street, blocking traffic both ways. Distant sirens howled.

The veterans, Fred, and Todd were conga-ing around the ruined building. Singing.

“STAAAAARRRR TREKKIN’ ACROSS THE UNIVERSE!”

“This is all your fault.”

“ON THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE UNDER CAPTAIN KIRK!”

My fault? I didn’t do anything!”

“STAR TREKKIN’ ACROSS THE UNIVERSE!”

“They’re your friends.”

“BOLDLY GOING FOR-WARD ‘CAUSE WE CAN’T FIND REVERSE!”

“I did not get them shit-faced on sugar and additives and throw them out of the theatre! They did that all by themselves.”

“IT’S WORSE THAN THAT HE’S DEAD, JIM; DEAD, JIM; DEAD JIM!”

“You weren’t there to stop them.”

“IT’S WORSE THAN THAT HE’S DEAD, JIM; DEAD, JIM, DEAD!”

“Well excuse me for trying to get a car I didn’t have to pay off after I die!”

“WELL IT’S LIFE, JIM, BUT NOT AS WE KNOW IT…”

“Oh my God, when are they going to shut up?”

“I suggested elephant tranq’s but they just laughed at me.”

A siren-bearing vehicle finally pulled up on the verge and a uniform got out, and picked them to talk to, since they were the only ones sitting still and not trying to relieve the chaos. “Do either of you know who’s responsible for this mess?”

“THERE’S KLINGONS ON THE STARBOARD BOW…”

Jean pointed to Lance. Lance pointed to Fred. “I left him in charge of Todd,” he explained. “He knows that neither of them are supposed to have sugar and additives. I had to work.”

“As a candy-striper?”

“No, this is to win a new car. Kinda need that to work, too.”

“Are they singing ‘Star Trekking’?”

“Yes.”

“You’re kidding. I love that song!”

Lance pinched the bridge of his nose. “…kill me now…”

[1] Of course certain household whovians introduced Jean to the concept of Andy Pandy overalls.

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Kurt's idea of volunteering at the animal shelter may not have been the best idea.

(#00158)

“Any previous experience?”

“Ja, I helped rehabilitate a few animals back home,” said Kurt. He decided not to mention the pet raven, deer, squirrels or the nearly-tame wolf. “I’m very good with them.”

“Nothing… professional?”

“Eh… Heirelgart is a little bit… isolated. We had a traveling vet and a traveling doctor. We learned to help ourselves, ne? For a time, I *was* the vet.”

“Mm.” Shuffle shuffle, went the papers on the lady’s desk. “Well, you can start by

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ficwar prompt: Jager shipping wars.

(#00157)

“Aggil!” Xox roared, proving he was a proponent of Agatha/Gil.

“Targatha!” Hollered Drej, proving he was a proponent of Agatha/Tarvek.

“Aggil!”

“Targatha!”

“Aggil!”

“Targatha!”

“RRRHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!”

Pixo kept supping her soup.

“Hyu is not fightink?” asked a so-far casual bystander.

“Hy try to schtay out ov dese tings,” she admitted. “But hy am a liddle fond of Agthar.”

“Agthar?”

“Agatha/Othar.”

The bystander made a face. “Eugh. Hyu haz not goot taste.”

“Which is vhy Hy schtay out ov dese

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The Jagerkin: who knew they had such a passion for matchmaking? (and such a lack of talent at it)?

(#00156)

“He iss boy, hyu iss gorl. Vhat more could hyu vant?”

“How about a pulse?” she indicated the man in question. A rather well-preserved mummy in their current oubliette. He had fantastic bone structure, but then… all he was was bone structure. “Or flesh?”

“Hokay, so he needs a liddle of de fixink opp. Since vhen is dot new?”

“I don’t have the equipment, and I’m not exactly certain he’ll be worth the bother. That, and I’ll

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Siracha makes anything more edible - theoretically.

(#00155)

“Why is there only a bottle of Siracha in the survival rations?”

“Because the people who packed it assumed that anyone needing it would be able to live off the land. And Siracha, as it says on the lable, makes anything more edible.”

“But I’m allergic and this landscape is entirely poisonous.”

“We shall write a scathing letter to the company the minute we get out of this mess. Pay attention, would you? I’m trying to build a Siracha-powered

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"Due to last year's incident involving "The Ballad of Cemetery Sue", the lyrics and/or script of any act in the talent show must be approved...

(#00154)

The entire nerd portion of the school moaned in disappointment. They all knew what it meant. The next talent show would be stripped, pasteurized, sanitized and otherwise made dull, bland, and completely boring.

“And I was going to juggle a chainsaw, a bowling ball, and a fresh egg,” whined Kurt.

Only one was cackling.

“Sara, no-o-o-o-o-o…” said Todd, possibly on automatic.

“But I was going to give them exactly what they wanted, and nothing of what they asked for,” protested Sara.

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Young Knights and Old Soldiers

Saw this quote online, figured it might inspire something interesting.

“Hoping to find a ‘knight in shining armor’ is a worthless dream.  His blade razor-edged, his shield polished, his breastplate ornately-gilded, they say only this - that his experience in battle is nothing, and his courage has never been tested. He has nothing but ambition and optimism in his corner, and he could easily falter and flee when that shine fades.  Hope instead to find the steadfast soldier in

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Prompt: Their actions may not have changed history, but they certainly changed geography.

(#00152)

They had called themselves the League of Justice. Ordinary folks who used sparky inventions to foil, imprison, or otherwise stop other sparks. And they caught Sara.

She, and her clank storage trunk, were the only things to come out of the resulting crater.

“I see you rescued yourself,” said Gil.

“I told them not to mess with my luggage. They should have taken me seriously.”

“What were they doing?”

“Changing the course of history, they believed,” Sara looked back. “They finished

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Challenge #151: One Stormy Evening at Genracon

Klaus + Da Boyz + Comic Convention = Wacky Hijinks

“Ve FIGHT!”

Lightning raged, both natural and artificial, through the iron catacombs where he and this idiot trio of Jaegers had decided to pick a fight.

“Not so close to the por–”

KRAKKOW!

“–tal…”

“Vot?”

The lights came back on. Crowds in varying degrees of unrealistic dress stared at the tangle of Baron and Jaegermonsters…

And burst into shrieking applause.

Maxim straightened first,

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Epic prank wars - either GGverse or Evoverse, your pick.

(#00150)

[AN: Since I have a fic in progress with Sara turning up in the GG universe, I can get away with both!]

She really should not have followed master Gilgamesh. But she had and, having followed master Gilgamesh, found an adventure. This, though, was a lull-point. Fixing and repairing and building and, strangely enough, taking a well-deserved rest.

Which was how she met Mama/Jaegergeneral Gkika. She was all sharp smiles and, for a Jaeger, cunning. 

They conversed for a while

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Iron Chef: X-Mansion!

(#00149)

Sara really should not have sung. That had been the ultimate bone of contention. Especially since it was _Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better_.

Amara would not back down. Neither would Sara.

So now the danger room had been set up as two identical kitchens, and a black neutral zone between them. Randomizers were set to pick random ingredients from anywhere in the world, and raise them up into the neutral zone for the competitors to use.

The dias

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Zantabraxus meets Ottilia.

(#00148)

The Queen of Skifander was never weak. Though she rode a palanquin, it was a tactic. Four sets of feet were faster than one on their own. Her bearers were gaining on the interlopers. Zantabraxus coiled on her throne like a cat readying itself to pounce. Soon, they would be in range…

“HALT!”

“What?” said the usurper. “How the heck did she get here?”

She was a giant of a clank made of silver and gold. Her wings were in sad

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Geeky Mutants + Danger Room = Holodeck-style shenanigans.

(#00147)

Logan stared at the view from the observation port. The brats were battling on twin dirigibles. One team with blue bandannas, the other with red. There were swords, steampunk machines, flying apes, strange beasts and… orchestral music?

Elf was enjoying every last minute of it.

“Have at thee, foul miscreants,” he cried, swinging all over the place like a monkey on a bender. “However many you may be, you can not match the heart of a true musketeer.”

Tallwater was singing

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Zantabraxus and Gil - making up for lost time.

(#00146)

Zeetha stared out the porthole. Unbidden tears fell down her face.

“Are you hurt?” Agatha managed. It had been a rough landing of a pod never meant to fly. Zeetha was lucky she was upright. Agatha and Gil were still turned about and tangled in their impromptu rewiring.

“I’m… home…”

Agatha got herself untangled with a loud thud, peered out the porthole. The jeweled towers of Skifander shone in the dawn light. A glistening cohort of Skifandran soldiers were approaching

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Challenge #00145: Mein Kinder

Girl Genius, Klaus + baby!Gil. Klaus’s thoughts on watching Gil grow.

The magnetite compas was working. As was the nourishment formula the infant boy was suckling on.

His son.

Gilgamesh.

He would have to do something about the fine green fuzz of hair that marked him as Skifandran. But right now, in a hot-air flying engine cobbled together out of whatever he had to hand… it was not important.

He could not take his sister. At least, he could

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