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MFTS: Reboot – Earth 2.0
Here is my contribution to Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story. We get a photo and an opening sentence (which is in bold in my story). Then we have 150 words or so to finish the story. The opening sentence this week was contributed by Eric Wickland of Momus News.
Click on the blue froggy for this week’s other contributions.
Copyright B.W. Beacham
At first, it looked like an ordinary marble, but it was far from it.
Merrax opened the protective covering to reveal a small blue and green globe. He handed it to the planetary mechanic (No Planet Too Small – Call Now!).
“Hmm, yes, funny smell coming from this,” said the mechanic.
Merrax nodded. “I popped some two-legged creatures on there for a science project and now it smells real bad.”
“Yep,” said the mechanic knowingly. “They’ve stunk the place up. Gases, oils, chemicals… expensive to fix.” His eyes gleamed.
“Isn’t there a cheap option?” asked Merrax. His mum was going to be so mad.
“Well,” said the mechanic. “We could reboot the whole… “
“Earth,” said Merrax.
“Whatever. Start anew. Wipe it all off. Much cheaper.”
Merrax had a think. “We’ll do that,” he decided.
“No worries.” The mechanic popped Earth in a machine and pressed a button. If you listened carefully, you could hear the screams of the dying emanating from the little globe.
“There you go, just like new!” said the mechanic. “Factory reset. Earth 2.0!”
MFTS – A Stoner’s Soul
It’s Mondays Finish the Story time, hosted by Barbara Beacham. This is the one where we get a photo and an opening sentence.
This is the final part of “The Stoner Trilogy”. If you remember, in “The Highest Spirits“, Chad and Brad lost their souls, and in “Fool Me Twice” they were conned into a “Trial” by the lead spirit, Basil.
This was the best I could do, given the number of words and while attempting to make each story reasonably standalone. Here is the cast of characters:
Chad – a stoner
Brad – another stoner
Basil – a cunning head spirit
and introducing special guest star ZEUS as ZEUS, a powerful and currently quite irritated god.
The opening sentence is in bold in my story, and other contributions may be found by clicking the blue froggy.
Copyright B.W. Beacham
ZEUS was not having a good day and he made sure everyone knew it.
First his “soldiers” were too wide for his boiled eggs, now the spirits of Miners Hill had taken it upon themselves to capture souls!
The sky lit up as if on fire as ZEUS vented his rage. Spirit Chad looked suspiciously at his insubstantial joint.
“Thunder and lightning for the Trial, dude,” explained Spirit Brad.
“Heavy,” said Chad. Rain began to fall, extinguishing his joint. His face fell.
“BASIL!” screamed ZEUS to the lead spirit. “STEALING SOULS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION?”
“Um,” stuttered Basil. “Um…”
ZEUS fired more lightning which narrowly missed Chad, clipping and reigniting his joint.
“Epic!” said Chad, taking a puff.
“RETURN THEIR SOULS AT ONCE!”
With a wave of Basil’s hand, it was done.
“This calls for a celebration!” said Brad, reaching into his underpants for his special hidden stash.
Against all odds Chad and Brad lived to a ripe old age. And although our stoners could remember almost none of it, they both agreed (on their smoke-shrouded death bed) that they’d had a stonkingly Epic Time.
MFTS – Fool Me Twice
Here is my contribution for Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story for this week. For this challenge we get 150 words or so plus a photo and an opening sentence.
I must confess, I’m twenty-odd words over this week. Sorry :-(. This week’s story picks up pretty much where last week’s left off, as we rejoin newly-deceased stoners Chad and Brad, their souls ripped from their bodies after mistaking tales of alcoholic beverages with spirits of the ghostly variety.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy. The supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story.
Copyright B.W. Beacham
“What a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive, dude.”
So saying, Chad jabbed the lead ghostly spirit (Basil by name), his fingers coming away covered with ectoplasm, sticky and insubstantial as a spider’s web.
“I’M SURE I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN,” intoned Basil.
“You lured us here with talk of spirits,” complained Chad. “Vodka, whisky…”
“Advocaat,” added Brad, puffing on a joint.
“AND SPIRITS YOU FOUND!” laughed Basil. “DON’T YOU JUST LOVE HOMONYMS!”
“Chad, calm down!” said Brad, offering him an insubstantial joint. Chad took a puff.
“Dude!” he exclaimed happily.
“Dude,” agreed Brad.
“We want back in our bodies, dead Dude,” said Chad, pointing at his corpse.
“PERHAPS… THERE IS A WAY,” pondered Basil. “WOULD YOU CONSENT TO… TRIAL IN COURT?”
“Hell yeah!” said Chad before Brad could stop him. “No jury in the world will rule against us!”
“BWAHAHA!” laughed Basil. “TRIAL BY COMBAT! IN THE COURT OF THE DAMNED! FOOLED YOU AGAIN, GULLIBLE STONERS!”
“Dude,” said Chad.
“Dude,” agreed Brad. “You know what we need?”
“Yeah!”
And so the pair set off in search of more ghostly weed, the better to endure the trials ahead.
MFTS – The Highest Spirits
Here’s my story for Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story.
To read the other stories, click on the blue froggy. The supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story.
Copyright B.W. Beacham
“The only residents remaining in the small town of Miners Hill are spirits.”
“That was the end of the myth? Heavy,” said Chad.
“Yep,” said Brad. “And there it is. Miners Hill.”
“Wow. It really is black and white. I thought it was just an old photo.”
They scrambled down the hill.
“Spirits, the myth says? What kind, d’ya think?”
“I’m hopin’ vodka, whisky, maybe even… the Good Stuff.”
“Wow. Advocaat? Heavy.”
Suddenly a host of ghostly apparitions appeared.
“Whoa!” Chad pulled the joint out of his mouth and stared at it suspiciously.
“I can see them too, and I’m not even high!” said Brad.
“Oh, dude, you gave up?” asked Chad sympathetically.
“Yeah, it’s kinda tough…”
“IF YOU TWO DON’T MIND?” broke in one of the spirits. “YOUR SOULS ARE FORFEIT.”
“No! Not my Nikes!” Chad looked in dismay at his footwear.
“SOULS. WITH A ‘U’.”
And so the lads joined the ranks of the dead, booze in hand, weed in mouth, the highest spirits of Miners Hill.
Full Speed Ahead!
Here is my contribution to this week’s Mondays Finish the Story, hosted by Barbara Beacham. 100-150 words is the goal, and the supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story.
This week’s other stories can be found by clicking on the blue froggy. I couldn’t help thinking that the boat (if that’s what it is) in the picture looks like the slowest boat ever, so that’s the way I went in my rather nutty story this week. I had fun substituting the usual words associated with sleek and fast ocean-going vessels with the ones I used here :-).
Sorry about the ending, I’m already over the word count :-(.
Copyright B.W. Beacham
The crew of the Angel Flame received orders to head out.
“Pleasure yacht ‘Schnitzel’ adrift – all craft assist!”
Derkin put to sea, his son Timmy standing excitedly at the prow. The Flame’s powerful twin engines pushed the craft to an impressive 1.5 miles per hour. Timmy shouted with glee!
They cut through the waves like a spork through a brick, eating up the inches, thundering at nearly no speed whatsoever towards the stricken yacht. Another rescue craft drew level and then shot ahead, its lone occupant pulling hard on the oars.
“Faster, Dad!” yelled Timmy.
Derkin gritted his teeth and engaged the afterburner, increasing speed to 1.75 miles per hour. Suddenly a three inch wave hit them full on, swamping the boat.
“We’re taking on water, we’ll have to turn back!” he yelled. “I hope we make it!”
Timmy gasped.
Derkin turned the Flame and stared in horror. The dock was already over thirty feet distant! Throttles open to the limit, they reached safety twenty minutes later and were home in time for tea.
Another New Start
It’s Friday Fictioneers time again, the only Friday fiction challenge on a Wednesday! Thanks as always to Rochelle for hosting and choosing the photo, which this week comes from Marie Gail Stratford.
Click on the blue froggy to see this week’s other contributions.
Copyright Marie Gail Stratford
Darius looked at the silo through the tint of his RadSuit’s visor. His grandfather had tilled the soil when they had housed grain. His father had worked on their conversion to missile launch bays. Sighing, he dragged his find – a compact atomic power unit – back towards the shuttle.
As he walked, he looked up at the moon. Home to the human race since the devastating “oil wars” of the late twenty-first Century, it was already 80% irradiated by the ongoing resources war between surviving factions. They’d need this power unit to aid the evacuation to Mars – yet another New Start.
MFTS – Rags to Riches
Here is my contribution for Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story. We get a photo, an opening sentence and then we have 100-150 words to finish the story.
I had a story all written, about a woman who’s had a terrible life and decides to drown herself, then changes her mind, swims back towards shore and gets eaten by a shark (ha ha ha) but you’ll be pleased to hear I changed my mind and wrote this one instead.
For this week’s other contributions, click on the little blue froggy. In my story, the supplied opening sentence is in bold.
Copyright B.W. Beacham
Arriving at the beach, she reflected on her life. A tough childhood. Orphaned. In and out of trouble. Never fitting in, never belonging. She’d grown hard. Bitter. Always putting herself first. Because she had to. Because she needed to survive.
That was before David. Sweet David. Gentle David. David, who wouldn’t think twice before throwing himself under a bus to save a small furry animal in distress.
New husband David. Rich David. Gullible David. She couldn’t believe how easy it had been to talk him out of the pre-nup. “Davey, honey, love’s forever. We’re forever.”
She imagined tomorrow’s headlines. “Wealthy philanthropist David Gear dies in tragic boating accident while on honeymoon. New wife inconsolable.” She’d better work on inconsolable, she thought. The way he’d thrashed about as the sharks had ripped him apart made her smile. It had reminded her of the way he made love. Ineffectually.
She pinched herself to make her eyes water, then walked back to the hotel to face the Press.
MFTS – Love Conquers All
Here is my contribution to Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story. My genre for this week is “weird madcap nonsense”! It changes from supernatural to romantic to slap-stick in seconds :-).
We get a photo and a starting sentence and then have up to 150 words to finish the story. To view this week’s other contributions click on the blue froggy, and the supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story.
Copyright Barbara W. Beacham
After losing her head, she realized that the rest of her body was falling apart!
Not now, she thought, as her head was replaced by that of a demon, her body transforming into that of a lizard.
“You’re morphing, dear,” whispered her mum.
“How inconvenient!” growled Samantha through razor-sharp teeth.
Barry stared in shock. His wedding guests ran screaming. His bride-to-be’s sat quietly, unfazed. His best man stood trembling, rooted to the spot.
“Wha…” stammered Barry.
“Well,” his bride’s mother said, “it’s like this. We need Samantha to marry a mortal to cement her bond to this realm.”
“That’s Samantha Draconis Satanicus Wilson,” continued her dad.
“It’s still me, dear,” growled Samantha.
Barry looked into the demon’s glowing eyes, and sure enough, he saw his Samantha staring back.
“Well,” said his best man. “You’ve dated worse.”
“True!” smiled Barry. “Let’s get married!”
“Love really does conquer all!” laughed his soon-to-be-father-in-law, morphing in his excitement and accidentally decapitating a bridesmaid. “Oops!”
Everybody laughed and a great time was had by all.
Nothing to Laugh About
Here is my contribution to Monday’s Finish the Story, Barbara Beacham’s weekly photo/opening sentence prompt.
I’m a bit later this week, as last night I went to see the new Avengers film at the cinema. Also, I couldn’t think of a single story. But rather than miss a week, here’s what I ended up with, for better or worse.
The opening sentence is in bold in my story, and to view this week’s other entries click on the blue froggy.
Copyright Barbara W. Beacham
“Are you laughing at me?”
“Calm down, mate.”
“Are you laughing. At. ME?” Brian repeated, more forcefully.
“No, mate. Calm down. Have you taken your meds today?”
“Are you looking at me…”
“Well, I’m looking at you because I’m talking to you.” Chad was starting to feel a little worried.
“… or are you chewing a brick?” Brian continued.
“What?”
“’Cos either way you’ll lose your teeth,” snarled Brian.
“Okay, Brian, you need to calm down,” said Chad, in as soothing a voice as he could manage. He eyed Brian’s muscular bulk warily. “Look at your happy flowers. Look at the flowers, Brian. Happy, happy flowers!”
Brian stared at the flowers. The flowers stared back. Brian snarled.
“Are you laughing at me?” Brian demanded of the flowers, bunching his fists.
“For Heaven’s sake,” muttered Chad, stomping off to find Brian’s meds.
The flowers began to tremble slightly. They saw their future in Brian’s eyes, and that future was pot-pourri.
The Cycle of Life
Here is my contribution to Barbara Beacham’s Mondays Finish the Story. We get a photo and a starting sentence and then 150-ish words to finish the story.
To read this week’s other stories, click on the blue froggy. The supplied opening sentence is in bold in my story below.
So without further ado, let’s join the Harris family on their educational African safari!
Copyright B.W. Beacham
The Harris Family and the Cycle of Life
They followed the buffaloes and their babies along the trail heading into the woods.
“Oh, Daddy!” exclaimed little Betty Harris. “Aren’t they cute?”
“Look at how they frolic along happily beside their parents!” added her mother. “Shall we keep following them?”
“Ooh, yes!” giggled Betty excitedly. “May we, Daddy, may we?”
“Of course!” laughed Father. Betty clapped her hands with glee.
They entered the woods and soon spotted the buffaloes at a watering hole. Father knelt down, readied his hunting rifle and pulled the trigger. The nearest buffalo baby’s head exploded, bits and pieces splashing into the water. Betty gasped.
“Father, what have you done?”
“It’s all part of the Cycle of Life,” explained Mother. “You see, we’re the dominant species and therefore we can kill all the animals!”
“All of them? Wow!” said Betty. “Father, may I have a go with the gun?”
Tune in again next week when Mother discovers the error in her “dominant species” theory in “The Harris Family and the Hideous Child-Eating Lion of Death”.
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