Just Add Prompt

It was distressing how many problems a good murder could solve.

[AN: According to the doctors, I am now officially fine. According to me, there is still a tightness in my throat that I am going to see my doctor about]

Too many arseholes in the world. Far too many. But if one could select an arsehole to excise from reality… If you could pick the ones who were most to blame for the current, sordid state of reality…

If you could pick off the ones who made their wealth from others’ pain…

Ah, but those are the ones with the most security. They’re the ones who isolate themselves in armour-plated ivory towers. The ones who think they’re safe.

But they still let people like me in. To clean for them. To dress their hair or do their makeup or their nails. To ensure that their life of leisure is never besmirched by a mote out of place.

They trust people like me.

More fool them.

It’s an easy thing, to come in when expected. Easier still to find some expensive treat and add a little extra touch.

A virus here. A pathogen there. A little arsenic for old time’s sake. Never the same way twice. Never working for the same company twice. Sometimes it’s advantageous to be so poor that one can only ever get temp work.

And one by one they fall. While invisible me carries on as always. Weeding out the true scum of the earth.

One rich asshole at a time.

Sooner or later, the money will go to someone who wants to do good with it. All I have to do is bide my time, weigh them up and, once I have found them wanting… administer justice.

All the others want to be caught because they know they’re doing something bad. Most of these arseholes? Nobody will miss what they do very much. Nobody really cares. Not about them.

[Muse food remaining: 45. Submit a prompt! Ask a question! Buy my stories!]

It’s like selling people a gold nugget, then a silver nugget with gold covering, then you get a copper one with gold covering, the next version they sell you a iron Nugget with gold paint before selling you a glass marble calling it the ‘next big thing’.

“It’s all about makin’ stuff faster and cheaper, but no’ necessarily better. It’s about convincin’ the customers that faster an’ cheaper is better, ye ken.

…and the cat is still not allowed into the tea room because he’s convinced that somewhere there is catnip if he can only destroy enough to get at it.

“Whsk!” Pattie aimed a spray at the incoming Skitty. “Ffffft! HSSSSS!”

“Ma'am,” said Officer Marken. “I’m afraid it’s against station regulations to interfere with a Skitty’s duties.” She already had the digipad out and was taking notes.

“

They’ll get along like a house on fire, in the sense that there will be significant property damage and possible casualties.

He was looking for allies and none of the bigger interests had any interests in his interests. And his Lizard guide wasn’t much help.

“You may try Ambassador for Nineteen Eighty-Six, Shayde Pitt. I predict you will get along like a house on fire.”

“I’ll teach ya how to talk proper yet,”

“Your body is your temple. Plunder it.”

Three pieces of good news.

One: He was smarter than the people who had sent him here. And there was no way in hell that he was going to U-turn around into a suicide mission.

Two: The planet that read as habitable actually was habitable.

Three: The people who sent him on this wild flight to meddle with the course of history had sent along all kinds of laboratory equipment and information in

“Kitty, fire starboard weapons”
“Miaou”
“No Kitty, don’t play with the yarn, fire the weapons”

From the Wikipedia Galactica: Space Madness, as it is commonly known, is not, in fact, a mental imbalance caused by being in space. It is well known that cogniscents of all kinds need certain things in order to prosper, both physically and mentally. The isolation of solo missions does, of course, engender ramifications…

“Status report, Lieutenant Tibbles.”

The

To sing when anti-science protestors of whatever stripe are around:

Ev’ry banana you eat / has been genetically engineered / and is a radioactive clone.

There were simultaneous protests outside the administrative building. Some protestors, with a foot in each camp, had evolved revolving signs.

“Bible bashers,” Sylvia shook her head. One side of a sign she was watching quoted the bible about natural foods, and the other screamed about teaching creationism. She had a wicked idea and ducked into her

To quote Shakespeare, Hamlet, Act 3 Scene 3, Line 87: No!

“Geez, why do you have to be such a bitch about it?”

Ugh. “Maybe because I had to tell you thirty times before you even heard a real ‘no’? Maybe because my wants and needs aren’t relevant to you? Maybe because the first thing that came out of your mouth when I told you I was bisexual was ‘threesome’? Maybe it’s because you’re as aesthetically pleasing

C:> Cannot find Reality.sys. Universe Halted.

There was no other word for what was happening than Glitch. People went to sleep one colour and woke up another the next. And frequently with a change in their social status and standing.

And it wasn’t just their colour that changed. There were all kinds of alterations. People would go to sleep as a man in a mansion, and wake up as a woman in a slum.

Buildings began to show segmentation

A text found on the first expedition by a species to their planet’s nearest celestial body (moon or nearby planet), which explains in perfectly accurate detail how to improve the efficiency of in-system spaceflight many times over.

Appendix A begins “As we know, 2+2=5…”

Five hundred years ago, people had seen strange lights in association with their moon. A light was clearly visible on the surface of the satellite, every time that it became shadowed.

Four hundred years ago,

On a warning sign

CAUTION: Eldritch Abominations

The human stopped at the door. “Is this serious?”

“Why would it not be?” said the alien robot. “The Yubshuggoth are a kind people, but their appearance has been known to… cause significant alarm. Some have died from the shock. This is why they use avatars like me.”

So what the human do? They thrust open the door and stuck their head inside to see what was so

Well, are we agreed that we will never try to talk to the world ending monsters again?

Yes? Good.

They were in his way. They were there to conquer. Smash! Destroy! Devour!

“Hermann!”

Crush! Kill! Consume!

“Hermann!”

The puny human was only a little smaller than him. How? Had they found a way to grow themselves? Were they stealing the Builders’ ways?“

"Hermann, Hermann, look at me. Look. Look, look, look. You’re not

From the Wikipedia article on Personhood:
“If alien life were found to exist, under what circumstances would they be counted as "persons”? Do we have to consider any “willing and communicative (capable to register its own will) autonomous body” in the universe, no matter the species, an individual (a person)? Do they deserve equal rights with the human race?“

What the hell kind of question is that? Of course we should! Of course they do! The

Interdum feror cupidine partium magnarum Europae vincendarum
[Sometimes I get this urge to conquer large parts of Europe]

“Eh, sometimes you change the world,” Shayde sighed. “Sometimes th’ world changes you. And sometimes… Caesar said it best - ‘interdum feror cupidine partium magnarum Europae vincendarum’…”

Rael was looking into his eyepiece. “Sometimes, I get this urge to conquer large parts of Europe?”

She sighed. Technology. That was the problem. People could

Saying something in all earnestness, not realising that it’s been twisted far from what the words actually _mean_ by scum and then used as a warning sign by people more socially aware than you, and that you just marked yourself as one of those scum. All because you were using the words as they were meant to be used.

[TW: rape]

Sometimes, there’s a big problem with being a card-carrying member of SPOEn - The Society for the Preservation