Butchy, interlude

Rough character sketch of what could have been a syndicated comic.

Most people who visit see me run the other way. All I really want is for them to give me part of whatever it is they’re eating. Just 75%. Is that so much to ask?

Not interested in humans, interlude

That’s just a roaming spider. There’s nothing to be afraid of. He’s looking for something to eat and you’re not small enough.

-from “Let out Charlie,” sci-fi live theatre show about a detective who solves crimes by studying spiders, especially a specific species of spider that scavenges off dead bodies.

Skydoms fanart, interlude

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Feel the wind on your face, and the warmth of the sun, as you reside in the depths of a tall tower made from magical red blocks, nestled on a floating island.

From a travel guide for Skydoms, based on technology that allows the user to be teleported inside a mobile game.

Insurmountable Odds, Interlude

whartleburg

In a rush, the flaming portal closed with finality. Whartleburg was where he needed to be. Though June and her son Eddy wanted to go with him, Whartleburg knew they would only get in the way. Indeed even as he thought about his charges back on earth, in another dimension, the storm was brewing.

This would be the fight Whartleburg had been moving toward. He would do his best, he would push through. And when the dust settled, in a granite tower waited Salyria, his fiance. She had been waiting for him, should never have been waiting, but the Spider King Ahab wanted her. He could not be told no, and to keep her safe locked her up in frozen isolation, so no one could harm her. Whartleburg was the only opposition who had lasted this long. Though he too was caught and banished to an unknown dimension, thanks to Eddy and June here he was again.

From afar could be felt the presence of Spider King Ahab driving forward his armies. First send in the weaker thugs to wear him down, next the tougher ones, then the champions. And should he succeed still, well we’ll just see what happens next. His Arachness Spider King Ahab will not get up unless he must.

In came the bikers, whooping and hollering. Whartleburg brandished his twin giant axes and bared his mandibles. Suddenly something overshadowed him. What’s this? A pincer attack! From behind were more bikers. Among them was a great hulking guy whirling around his head heavy chains.

“This is the end, Whartleburg!” shouted the great biker.

Whartleburg threw his twin axes and looked at the big man.

“What goes around comes around. That includes razor sharp spinning axe blades.”

Excerpt from “Enzectozoid Chronicles: The Legacy of Whartleburg the Whalloper” from the curiously long book of short stories, I am lettuce, who are you?

The next chapter: “Reminiscence.”

Previous chapter or entry

Too-Grown-Up-to-Play-with-Dolls Interlude

Ticka tilly
ticka tilly
ticka tilly
ra ra ra!

The sounds of those blasted toys on the shelves kept chatting while I was in the storage room. Cutting edge, technologically advanced, motion sensors inside little statuesque chipmunks, all 1500 of them, were activating at once, red eyes blinking all at once to make the room so illuminated with red light that I didn’t need to turn the light on. I did anyway. All I needed was garbage bags. There they are. Someone had set the box of garbage bags in the dead center of the room on the ground. What kind of sick joke was this?!

Hey, nice tie, Lucy! Did your mommy dress you again?

“I told you for the last time, my name is Gabriel!” I said to the nearby jerk of a toy. I called that one Randal. All the Randals I knew growing up had been jerks, and this one was no different. I picked up the box of garbage bags, wishing I could put the toys in them and just go to town bashing them against the concrete floor.

The three shelves where the toys had been placed took up most of the room. Past the shelves was a desk large enough for a computer and printer. I moved past the shelves carefully and moved to the desk. Of the three drawers, the third one was the largest which contained myriads of files of various types. One file of which was the invoice for having ordered 1501 “Noisy Lemongrass Chipmunk” dolls.

It was advertised that one could download from their manufacturer’s website programming to make them do all sorts of tricks, sing songs, catchphrases, and respond to simple questions. My boss had ordered them last month, but not one of them had sold because of one, I say one, defect. We didn’t know when we were ordering them that a single wire malfunction had caused the downloaded material to make them act and sound malevolent. It was reported that some of them had attacked small children. Naturally the parents sued, but the company who made Noisy Lemongrass Chipmunk denied all claims. They simply fired a few people and assured the public things would be fine. But we still had to remove from the store shelves all1501 of them.

So now I had to pass by them everyday at work. There was no way to turn them off. Lately they had gotten worse. Now they flashed red eyes instead of blue. Now they would respond with wicked cursing and threats if I asked them questions. And worst of all, if I made moves to dismantle them, they would jump at me. I’m not kidding, I have to scars to prove it. A design flaw left their paws and feet with pointed claws.

They ran on battery power, thank God, but could also recharge via staying online. Our staff kept waiting for them to burn out, but after weeks of being online they just kept going. Number one was the biggest and meanest of all of them. I had long suspected it had turned on the computer in the storage room. We had to keep the wi-fi on in the store.

I rejoiced when it was reported number one was reportedly stolen. Then we found him outside the storage room in the sporting goods section next to a baseball bat. I still shudder when I remember his screaming threats of rage when we put the thick blanket over him. It was the only way to handle him without getting hurt. Seriously, who would steal a toy so annoying? Then it hit me. Our store wasn’t the only one that had ordered a shipment of Noisy Lemongrass Chipmunks. What were they doing with the faulty toys?

Excerpt from “Noisy Lemongrass” from the curiously long book of short stories, I am lettuce, who are you?

Illustration of Dr. Winter

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In case you are wondering what Dr. Winter looks like in my mind, here is an idea. He’s a human scientific genius trapped in a white cat’s body. Blame it on a flaw in his intellect which caused an accident in one of his mad experiments. He wears a lab coat because he refuses to let go of his humanity.

The bamboo blowgun is equipped with poison darts made for various purposes. Much of it is used to acquire new test subjects. Or to create a diversion to throw the park rangers off his scent. The bamboo comes from within the park. Possibly from within the Labyrinthine Forest.

Dr. Winter appears through out this blog. Do not be fooled in thinking he may have a good side to him. His schemes are self centered, partly because he wants to control the park. Partly to acquire the jewels hidden within the park, and partly to return to his human form. The latter may never happen on a permanent basis.
If you have fan art of Dr. Winter, I’d love to see it.