Duck and Cover

You're totally going to win the Pulitzer prize for that one.

The desert wind blew at me, tearing away my flesh and spreading it across the desert. For every grain that lay golden in the sun’s undying light, another bit of my flesh was carried off. I became one with the desert, my flesh became sand and its sand became my flesh.
<br>I was naked; I wanted to feel the heat of the Mexican sun ravage my pale skin: To darken, to burn, to roast as penance for my past sins. And for ones that will come to pass in the years ahead.
<br>There were no rocks for me to lay my head on, thus no shadows I could seek comfort in. Just me and the sun…and the trout.
Two jews walked into the bar, each carrying their own bottle of sin. The tall one, lanky and mean, reached his hand deep into his pants. He kept it there, biting his lip in a display of emotion whose meaning eluded me, and finally released. He slowly drew his hand from his tight leather pants, and brought it to his dry, mangled lips. He blew a kiss to me.
<br>“My seed to yours.� He bowed his head, and chuckled softly, but layered it with menace. His voice was like a tight wire snapping: Sudden, and with a low twang.
<br>The smaller one, barrel-chested (He wore no shirt, just tight leather pants. The same make as his taller compatriot, I surmised) and hairy, marched over to me. He was about crotch-height.
<br>“You know we want it.� He poked a finger at my thigh, his long nails scratching the delicate skin.
<br>It was then I realized the entire bar was empty. Even the bartender was mysteriosuly absent. They thought they had me set up.
<br>I lifted up my right leg, and with the heel of my snakeskin boot to his forehead, I pushed the kaffer away. I was sick of his hypocritical bullshit, I wasn’t in the Cockhouse no more. But my memories were laced with Herpes, they came back right when you least wanted them to.
<br>As the midget-kike scrambled to regain his composure, I glanced at my watch. It was 7:32:03. The mother was late.

<br>Lovecraft always enjoyed fine ale. He would waste away his paycheck, his time, and his life in bars around Mexico City, swaggering from dive bar to dive bar, whorehouse to whorehouse. He was a phantom, a ghost of the city that created him. But most of all, he was late.

Why the fuck is this sticky?

You are supposed to masturbate while reading the stories. Hence sticky.

Awesome

Some stupid guy wrote:It was Geno's first day of american style college and he felt a little nervous.

What a kind honor, Megatron.

"Oh what have I done. WTF was I thinking. I can't just reverse this. I'm screwed"

She looked over her massive stomach that came out to her knees, she tried to touch it but her hands were tied to the chair she was in. The pain was intense and almost unbearable but it also felt good at the same time. It felt like an orgasm that wouldn't stop. She heard the footsteps in the weed and a man soon steped out with a big pot of something. He starts walking towards her then sets the pot next to her on the ground. It was a giant pot of warm chocolate syrup.

The man slaps the girls stomach but it doesn't move, its like a hard gaint ballon. A smirk comes to his face revealing giant crooked teeth. He shoves a funnel in her mouths and starts pouring the chocolate into her.

She soon gets sleepy and falls asleep. She dreams of how this all got started...

"OMG SHOW MORE BOOBIES" said the photographer. Jennifer was posing for the cover shot of a famous mens magazine in her swimsuit. She was voted the 2nd most beautiful person in the world by the world. She got tired and went to the free food stand for celebrities and wanted to grab a donut but refused because she had to keep her wieght down. She grabbed a bottle of PAM and sprayed it in her mouth.

She saw a man in the corner of the studio watching her everymove while wearing a big trenchcoat. She turned and looked at something else and when she looked back he was 5 inchs from her face.

"Do you want to make your inner fantasies come true?" said the man
"YES PLZ" said jenn...

She then woke up with a grasping breath as the man used an electric taser on her. The electric shock to her body made her let loose a massive fart and diaherra all over the chair and out the sides getting all over the guys shoes. The intense smell put the guy on his back and put him in a seizure.

Jenn felt immendense rage in herself and tours the arms out of the chair. She tried to get up but only got an inch off the chair. She took a couple deep breaths and all the muscles in her legs to lift herself in the upright positions. She had trouble keeping balanced but she soon got used to this new gravity change in the earth.

With her first step she felt a cruch under her foot. She looked down past her double chin and saw her foot in a pile of blood and brains from the guys head on the ground. She was tired of this shit and walked through the locked door in front of her tearing apart the whole wall. She saw a mouse on the ground and ran down the hallway of the apartment building and jumped out the window. She landed5 feet down onto her feet. She felt the shooting pain come up both her legs while she fell face down onto the alleyways cement.

She tried lifting herself up but her arms couldn't reach the ground. She tried moving her legs around but she couldn't, they wouldn't move. They were paraylized from the massive fall. She laid on the wet cement while completely naked as her cloths had shrunk in the wash and wouldn't fit anymore. The sky got dark and she could see the red eyes of the homeless bums i nthe alley waiting to feast on her flesh. The flesh of a woman.




At the mans work the next day

"Hey, wheres susan?" said the employee

The sun slowly rose over the horizon as morning dawned on the city. The air was filled with the sounds of a wakening city: paperboys dashing from one house to the next, business owners opening their stores, busses making their first circuits along the city streets. It was looking to be a beautiful day.

Somewhere downtown, though, a man was running. He was out of shape from many long hours spent in his workshop and laboratory, and he'd spent the entirety of that very night making the final adjustments to the culmination of his life's work. Now, though, his white lab coat, now stained and threadbare from long years of use, flapped behind him as he dashed towards city hall.

His progress slowed as the city streets began to fill with commuters headed to their places of work or study. He jostled early rising city dwellers aside as he redoubled his efforts to reach the mayor's office. Finally, he arrived at the ancient building and dashed up its elegant stone steps. He flashed his pass to the security guard and barged straight into the mayor's office.

The mayor, who had just arrived at work, was just sitting down with a cup of coffee, a bagel and his day planner. He looked up to see who was disturbing him.

"Already? Come on, I haven't even--Dr. Penzerfeld? What're you doing here? Why are you so sweaty? Oh, no. What have you done this time?"

The doctor leaned against the elaborately decorated mahogany desk the mayor was sitting at, panting from his long run. "Mr. Mayor," he wheezed, pausing before continuing to catch his breath. "Mr. Mayor... there's a problem."

The mayor was silent for a moment. "Dr. Penzerfeld, we were somewhat reluctant to have your Advanced Development Ideas lab constructed in our fair city. It was only when you promised plentiful jobs, valuable technologies and absolute security that we finally let you build that vast underground facility of yours. I don't want to hear that there's a problem. Especially not if it's the problem I think it is."

"Well, sir, it's... it's The Project," said the doctor.

The mayor said nothing. After a moment, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his left thumb and index finger.

In the business district of the city, people were filing into the Commerce Plaza's Central Tower by the hundreds, eager to start a new day at work. The Central Tower was the tallest and largest in the city and housed the regional offices or headquarters of dozens of companies. The doorman at entrance 4F was busily opening doors and greeting incoming workers when he felt an odd tremor beneath his feet. That was odd, he thought. The ground hadn't shaken like that since the construction of the Central Tower. Then he felt it again. He looked around, trying to identify the source of the seismic disturbance. Then, it came again.


"I suppose it got loose?" asked the mayor.

"Yes," said Dr. Penzerfeld

It was stronger that time. The doorman stepped down onto the sidewalk, and the tremor came again twice more. People around him also seemed to notice, some of them becoming quite nervous. The tremor came again, several times. It was so strong the last time that it rattled his teeth. Then a young man tore around the street corner to the doorman's left, running as fast as he could. The tremors were getting stronger, and then he saw a huge shape surge out of the street the boy had shot out of. After a moment, the vast thing resolved into a foot, and the foot was quickly followed by a leg.

"And you realize this is a very serious thing?" said the mayor. "The destruction this thing could wreak?"

"Well, of course we do," answered the doctor, somewhat indignantly. "We built the damn thing."

"Don't take that tone with me, doctor," said the mayor, "because right now your Automated Homomorphic Defense System is running loose in the city, doing God knows what damage."

A moment later, the whole thing had stepped into the doorman's field of view. Its legs alone were three stories tall and the head of the thing towered far above the tip of the doorman's red cap. He could see the simulated nostrils of the thing spitting fire at regular intervals, almost as if it were breathing. Its ears were revolving dishes, seeking out sounds and other waves far beyond regular human perception. Its eyes were vast and empty. Everyone on the street froze and gaped at the monolithic thing. Someone said, "Jesus fucking--what the fuck is--fuck!"

"I know, I know!" snapped Dr. Penzerfeld. "I didn't come here for you to start laying blame! We need to react quickly if we're going to stop it. I need you to call Site Beta."

"Site Beta? Is this what that was for? Cleaning up your messes?" said the mayor.

"We promised you impeccable security when we set up here. Site Beta provides it. Call them."

As the crowd pored over the thing with their eyes, drinking in the sheer size of it, trying to determine just what it was, so too was the thing examining the crowd and its surroundings. After a moment of stillness that seemed eternal, a stone flew out from the crowd and struck the thing on its metallic shin, rebounding with an echoing clank. There was another long moment of silence. Then, the nostril flames of the thing flared high and it gave an inhuman roar through an unseen mouth.

"All right, the call is made," said the mayor. "They told me they were on their way." Dr. Penzerfeld nodded.

The thing lashed out with a great arm. The arm seemed thin and spindly in comparison to the great size and girth of the machine, but when it struck a nearby lowrise building, the blow was strong enough to send brick and mortar raining down below. A windowframe fell on an elderly woman and falling debris knocked a fire hydrant from the concrete sidewalk, causing water to jet into the air. The crowd panicked and ran in all directions at once as the thing bellowed again.

"I can only pray," said the doctor, "that it will be enough. It is out of our hands now." The mayor looked grim and pinched the bridge of his nose again.

The doorman was running for cover from the rampaging beast when he started to hear a steady thumping noise. At first, he though the thing was using a mailbox to beat someone to death, but as the thumping noise grew stronger, he saw a pair of black shapes in the air come closer. They seemed to be carrying something enormous, almost on the scale of the thing.

"Do you think it has a chance of working?" asked the mayor.

The black shapes came closer and the doorman saw that they were helicopters. Between them they were carrying... no. That was ridiculous. Why would someone build such an enormous...? But then again, someone had built the enormous thing to use it, so...

"Our best simulations gave this the best chance of stopping it if it was necessary," said the doctor. "But even then, the success rate was low." Heedless of the early hour, the doctor stepped towards the mayor's liquor cabinet and selected a bottle of strong whiskey.

The helicopters settled into a hover just above the thing. At the same time, enormous speakers mounted to the undersides of the helicopters began to emit a pattern of sounds in various pitches and tones. At first, they had no effect on the thing, but after the third time through the pattern, the thing stopped, rose up to its full height and raised its arms above its head.

The helicopters lowered their shared buren into the hands of the thing, which gently cradled the cargo in its arms as the helicopters dropped their heavy carrying cables. The doorman looked now at the thing's eyes, and finally they lit up with a fierce, red light.

Fingers the length of a man's legs gently strummed strings as thick as signposts. The doorman felt the vibrations in his ribcage. The thing seemed to give a satisfied snort from its nose, accompanied by a large burst of flame. All at once, in a burst of speed that seemed unnatural for so large a body, the thing burst into a solo on its enormous guitar. The doorman was stricken. He had spent much of his life listening to music and was a fair guitarist himself, but between the virtuoso skill of the thing and the sheer power of the helicopters' speaker systems, the solo was the greatest thing he'd ever heard.

Dr. Penzerfeld drained his glass in one great gulp. He heard the powerful chords of the thing's solo from afar and smiled. The mayor slumped in his chiar, closed his eyes and threw up the horns.

As the thing wailed on the colossal guitar, the people who had just moments before been fleeing began to emerge from whatever cover they'd found. A few began to nod their heads in rythym to the music. The doorman was floored by every note played. The thing never missed a note and had skill far beyond anything he'd ever seen. Even the thump-thump-thump of the helicopter's rotors seemed to be in perfect sync with the guitar playing and provided a perfect backbeat. The doorman reached into his pocket and pulled out his zippo. He held it over his head and lit it as tears of joy rolled down his face.

You are a true guitar hero, son.

Are you trying to impress anyone?

omg write some stories, spazmo and i can't take care of everything.

Part one of three of something

It was a hard day, the sky was steel, the kind the 'Tenant likes to jam into my face if I slip up one more goddamn time. No fuckin' way, it wasn't gonna happen today or tommorow and anytime. It was my time, today I was gonna get out and do it: I was gonna kill Nico.

The smoky office was filled with people, huddled around some silly board like it was vintage pornography.

"By Gods, he can't do that!" A fat man exclaimed, the cigar nearly fell out of his mouth.

The fattest man, who also had the smelliest cigar, the assumed leader of this legion of lard stood up. His jiggling bosoms rose above the smoke like glorious mountains. He coughed, long and rough, the phlegm dangling for dear life in his throat. He must've been coughing up a fetus, I don't know, it was hard to tell from the air-vent.

"I'm afraid," Pause. He coughed up another fetus, "I'm afraid he can. The Sarge gave him Order 334."

A gasp ran through the huddle, the gasp of scared men awaiting their final judgement.

One of the slimmer men, obviously an apprentice, leaped onto the table, frenzied with confusion and rage. "WE GOTTA KILL HIM! HE'S A DANGER TO US ALL!"

"Blast it, Gordon!" The Leader pulled the acolyte down from the table, "YOU KNOW WE CAN'T DO THAT! NICO IS NOT JUS VITAL TO OUR MISSION, HE IS OUR MISSION! HE'S MY MISSION! HE IS MY LIFE! WE CAN'T JUST KILL HIM, WHO WOULD LEAD YOU FOOLS, THEN? HUH? TELL ME!" He was nearing tears, and his palms began to bleed from his fingernails digging into them. He slammed a fist on the table, splintering wood, "THE OPERATION MADE ME NEW AGAIN, AND IT'LL DO THE SAME TO
MY-OUR" he corrected himself with unease, " PRECIOUS NICO!"

This puzzled me, what did it mean? As quietly as I could I rummaged through my backpack, throwing aside the ammo and pack of Camels until I found what I was looking for: The file photo of nico:



By gods, it was true. I didn't want to believe it. The fat old man...and Nico? Father and son? Christ, it all seemed so clear now, everything that didn't make sense now did. It all fit together like some sort of sick twisted puzzle.

I had to take out both of them...There was no other way.

I cocked my shot gun, the cap falling onto the thin metal of the vent with a clang, startling the fat men. They looked up and saw death rain upon them.

The first shot I fired missed Nico's father by a good margin, but nailed some poor bitch who was ready to leap out of the window. Sorry, pal, but you aren't gonna mess up my pavement.

Pulled a grenade from my pocket, it felt good in my hand. I smiled, it was my grandpa's grenade, the kind he used to kill Gerry back in dubya dubya two. He'd be glad to know I was putting it to good use. A salute, a pin dropped, and then it was off into the mass of fat men rushing for the door.

Blood sprayed from the group, the walls were splatted with dust and gore. God, it was a sight. I felt pumped, I was ready to do this. I wheeled around and faced the fat fuck, ready to fire off another round.

He lunged at me, bowie knife in hand. His voice screeched as yelped a war cry and stabbed viciously at me, taking a chunk of my cheek off. I put my hand to face, he did quite a number on it. I spit at his face and then slapped him with my bloody hand, my blood.

He reeled from the blow, giving me a chance to get a shot off...just one, though.

I cocked another shot, said the fastest Hail Mary of my life and fired off again at Nico's dad, hitting him square in the face. Chunks of flesh splatted my body, the blood seemed thicker than normal to me. It was hotter than usual, too, it stung like...like oil.

I looked up, or rather down, again at the Leader, Nico's father, the man behind all my misery, robot.

It sputtered red oil from it's jagged mouth, bits of shrapnel plastered him. Damn fine shot, I would've pat myself on the back but I had to finish off this sum-bitch.

From it's gurgling voice box, a sinister recorded message filled the air, stirring the smoke, "YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE HONG KONG ALIVE!!" My eyes widened in disbelief, NO!

The fire ate everything, plumes of flames enclosed off the rubble, noxious gases molded together and formed green clouds, scarring the sky.

A rock had hit me on the head, I was bleeding badly. The blood matted my hair, stained my headband, mingling with the sweat and grease. Yet, I smiled: The worst was over, but there was still ugly left in this world. I cocked my shotgun and headed off into the sun, and looked back at the rubble. I nodded, the nod of patriots, and then patted myself on the back and walked on...

hey why isn't this sticky anymore?

Nico, suits you well

I don't look like that nowadays.

this is based on a true story btw

Nicolai wrote:I don't look like that nowadays.

What do you look like, now? or ?

the new and improved Nicolai

You look younger

where's your microstory, huh susan?