Category Archives: General Nerdliness

A Chocolate Chip off the Old Dog

Dear Nestle Corporation,

Perhaps recently you have received a challenge, double dog dare (not involving buckets of ice, or iced up flagpoles), or other dumbassery humorous rant about the rich warm melty awesomeness of your products.

Well, I am writing to thank you as well! With the addition of dark chocolate chips to your product line, you have accomplished several things. First and foremost, a new chocolate chip ‘option’. Milk Chocolate and Semi-Sweet chips have been the mainstays for a long time; with the addition of Dark Chocolate chips we now have the best of both worlds; the intense flavor of semi sweet chips AND the meltability (not a word, in the dictionary, though I suspect you all have internal buzzwords) of milk chocolate. It is now my go-to for any cookie or baked good that requires it (or if it’s optional, or even if it’s just logically possible).

This leads to a question I have, and I decided that since you have mastered all things chocolate, I would ask. As Ms. ODNT says “Gimme cookies – after all I have my own cow, so the milk sitch is taken care of.” She also says “Never hurts to ask!” (I verified this with her on her FB page. Yes I used trickery, since my Force powers are not quite Master level).

Submitted for your discussion/considerations, the (n) chip cookie. Yes I know, undefined, perhaps even infinite?! How did we get to this point? Well a little unauthorized biography never hurt anyone, so here’s what I have figured out…

First there were chocolate chip cookies. There were also chocolate cookies, and it was inevitable that the two would be spliced together to create double chocolate cookies. At some point afterwards, white chocolate chips crashed the party and the first triple chocolate chip cookie was baked, and enjoyed. Soon claims like ‘ultimate chocolate cookie’ and ‘death by chocolate’ were tossed around, probably because many people don’t know past ‘quadruple’. Including me. So I have the following in mind (which I may or may not have already made, and I will not confirm because if people even suspected I have a cookie like this in my house, well, need I say more?)

  1. A chocolate cookie batter
  2. White Chocolate chips
  3. Milk Chocolate chips
  4. Dark Chocolate chips
  5. Semi-sweet chocolate chips – which means…quintuple chocolate cookies!

But wait! There’s more!

  1. Frosted with melted chocolate – which means…sextuple chocolate cookies! (ok readers, get those ‘a cookie better than sex….tuple?!’ jokes out there).

But wait! There’s even more!

  1. The frosting is spread on the bottom of the cookie and another quintuple chocolate cookie is attached to it. Which means…um…

This is what I wonder – would #7 make it an undecuple cookie ( 5 +6 =11), or would it ‘simply’ be a septuple cookie, as the additional cookie would count as just another ‘topping’?

As well as writing to you, I will be posting this to my blog, asking Ms ODNT to pass it along as well as Ms MelMags (consider also that Mags’ decision on this and anything might be the final word), running a classroom poll, and perhaps asking random people on the street. I feel that we can settle this issue as accurately and chocolaty as possible.

Thank you for your time and for continuing to expand your product, so that our own baking experiences can push the cookie sheet even further.

Peter D.

________

Yes, I will be sending this letter/linking them here.

Yes, Yes I want to know your opinion and/or recipe.

No, I do not have these cookies in my home.

If I did, then yes you can have one.

 

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Filed under Baking, Debates, Food, General Nerdliness, Letters, Polls, Wisdom

June Blogs By Numbers – Six Quotable shows

Ms Mel and ODNT know there is strength in numbers – so write a numbered list this month and they will link YOU up! You have 10 minutes – or as much as you need before June 30th! Ketchup With Us

When looking for wise words and quotes that will get you through each day, or make you smarty-pants level, you should forget world leaders, activists, poets, and definitely forget  anything a celebrity says, or a Facebook meme.

That’s what TV is for and about!

In keeping with the June by Numbers prompt, I took a few shows and quotes that I manage to work into everyday conversation. Chatting with me is a unique experience indeed.

This is just a small sampling. Seriously, I can go all night (That’s what she said), and with that…we begin!

1. The Simpsons. Though I no longer watch new episodes, the early seasons of the show were a gold mine of quotes, and were perfect for the immature teenage/young adult years that I have recently outgrown (that’s a lie, I still use these daily).

“Worst episode ever!”– ‘Episode’ can be substituted with any verb, noun or situation, ever.

What he meant was, Monster Island is actually a peninsula. Best used when someone misunderstands some fact or situation.

Boo-urns. Anytime something is boo- worthy.

D’oh! Need I say more?

2. Family Guy. Another Fox show, Family Guy debuted within reach of the new millenium, was cancelled, then came back bigger than ever a couple years later. It pushed the envelope, and though it is the norm these days, crass un-pc humor is still abound here.

“Vile Woman!” & “Victory is mine!” – Pretty dated at this point, but they served their purposes well.

“Buzz Killington” – Refer to any person who kills the good mood/vibe, as such, or just the situation at hand, as if he had recently been around.

 

3. Monty Python and the Holy Grail. Sure there are quote from Life of Brian, and the Meaning of Life, but HG is a goldmine of catchphrases. As someone who has pretty much memorized the entire film, including the opening credits, there are just too many to get into at this point.

From migrating coconuts, killer rabbits, French insults and questioning the ruling of kingdoms, yeah there’s just too much. I don’t even know that I fit the quotes into everyday life. That’s a lie, I know exactly how.

“I got better!”. Glad to hear it!

“You tit/silly sod! I fart in your general direction!” are fitting insults for the idiocy/rudeness of others.

If someone asks if you need anything, “Another shrubbery! And place it a little higher for the two level effect and a little path” is a good response. (Keep in mind that you will not really get past the first sentence if they have no idea what you just referred to. If they do get it, the second sentence will elicit even more laughs – if THEY say the next sentence, let them, and bask in your new friendship).

“There are some that call me…Tim?” I use my own name in place when introducing myself (note to self, not at interviews!) But I would sit around with friends and quote randomly, laughing like nerds in our own genre

I should add that I  have not one, not two, but three shorts that make references to the film, mashed up with other themes. Can you figure them out?

5h1rtz
You can thank teefury for that.

4. Star Wars . 

Any place that looks sketchy gets the “you’ll never mind a more wretched hive of scum and villany” treatment.

“These aren’t the droids you’re looking for.” Again substitute ‘droids’ for the object of your choosing.

“She may not look like much, but she’s got it where it counts.” – Never refer to a woman in this way. That’s not what you want your last breathing words on Earth to be.

“I am wondering…why are you here”. Any/everyone who comes to your desk or office. Especially company Presidents. Or security, even though you fully know they are there to escort you off the premises. Leave ’em laughin’!

“Use the Force”. Hey it might help!

“Scruffy Nerfherder!” Yeah that’s right, I went there. Want some lotion for that burn?! As a reply to someone who gave you ‘french’ insults from Monty Python, you might not actually be arguing, rather doing a nerdy mashup worthy of a teefury shirt.

5. Regular Show – I have just started getting into this show, but already I am hooked. Yes I know you have liked it for longer than I have.
“Free cake!” is a great quote to celebrate by. Even if there is no cake around, you never know, some might appear. If you use the Force.

6. Archer . A newer FX/Netflix instant show with plenty of cursing, crass humor and drinking.

“Into the Danger Zone!” A ‘suffix’ for any (in your opinion) extreme activity coming up.
“This is how you get ants!” Referred to any messes (even non-food items) that are around.

That’s all I can fit into past 10 minutes – what are some of your TV/movie quotes?

 

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Filed under Blog Posts BY Number, General Nerdliness, Life, Lists, Quotes, Writing Challenges

Marrying Money

I found this contest through Ms. ODNT, who found it through Blogher, who are running this contest with Wells Fargo. A contest that pays, in real money no less! Though I have to admit, it seems to be geared towards women. Hints like BlogHer can’t get past this detective. Cash knows no gender though, so I am entering the contest with this entry!

250 words or less, What kind of relationship do you have with your money?

Well not so much the one I have; more like one that has a bright future and happy ending.

Dear Money,

The Families of

Mr. and Mrs. Brain Tomahawk, Sr

And

The New York State Lottery Commission

Cordially Invite You to Participate and Witness the Blessed Union of

Brain Tomahawk, Jr

And

The Winning PowerBall Ticket

Prior to the Next Drawing Date

At a Random Corner Store in New York City

To be Immediately Followed by a Reception

At a Recently Purchased Five-Star Restaurant, Then by a Rooftop* Party,

(*of Which the Building Would Also Have Just Been Purchased)

Concluding With a Newly- Acquired Charter Jet Flight to a Tropical Island

Which Will Likely be Procured as Well.

Please RSVP +1, as the Expense of the Bride Price is Twice That of a Single Guest.*

*Powerball tickets cost 2 dollars.

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Filed under Creative Writing, General Nerdliness, Humor, Writing, Writing Challenges

The Sounds That Bring Fury

I entered this contest by Northwest Mommy (click box for her), which I found through Ms. Worrell. It’s all about networking. Also about new ideas!

The topic for this week is/are: The 10 sounds I cannot stand.

1. Tim McCarver / Joe Buck or Michael Kay being the announcers for baseball/football/ nascar/etc. I am always thankful when Fox isn’t showing the event. Joe Buck announces like he’s explaining to kids how the game is played.

2. The sound of construction, especially when jackhammers are present. There is always a ton of that going on around NYC, always in different phases with their associated cacophony.

3.Trucks downshifting/bus brakes squealing. Tie that in with #2 and that’s what I hear most mornings before 9am.

4. Glass breaking. What a horrible high pitched sound that is. It unnerves me- one time in particular, a glass jar smashed about a foot from me in a small room. Between the unexpected-ness of it and the sound, it gave me a supreme headache.

5. Idiotic cell phone conversations. They are always the loudest, and usually unintelligible (in English or not). There are never any conversations involving treasure chests. WHY IS THIS? There is no cell phone service in the subways (for now, and I hope never), so the best part of any ride is any that is underground.

6. Kids carrying on in restaurants. Ok, so I understand, sometimes people want to take their kids out. Sometimes they can’t find a sitter. I would be fine with it, if that family were in another restaurant on another planet. Let ‘em scream their heads off there! There might even be those parents who think the child is just expressing themselves. I have a way of expressing myself too, along with interpretative dance. Want me to perform next to you while you eat? Aw, why not? *note: babies who sit there babbling and drooling while doing those little fidgeting motions in their chair are usually cute, and are therefore acceptable.

7. Protests that consist of couplet phrases, especially “2, 4, 6, 8…”. Not too long ago, people wrote entire SONGS protesting things. They make records and everything. Yours is barely haiku length. Get a guitar and start working on it.

8. The sound of the Red Sox winning the World Series. Seeing it is just as bad. The bitter taste is pretty awful too. Actually you know what; it offends all the senses, (including ESP). Their futility was something I was hoping to hand down to my kids.

These guys led the Red Sox victory parade.

9. When the lady reading the live lottery drawing reads off numbers that aren’t on my ticket(s). That annoys the hell out of me every time, especially when I have already spent part of my expected winnings.

10. My phone ringing, while I am at work writing this post. True story. Someone must want something. WTF is that about?!

Well why should I concentrate only on the negatives? Besides the fact it is the assignment. Here are some things I enjoy hearing:

1. 80’s music. Even songs I didn’t like back then are great for me now. Even when those songs are used for commercials with butchered alternate lyrics to fit the product. Right now Liberty Mutual is using Human League’s “Human” as background music; not sure if you can claim “Just being human” in the accident report. It sure doesn’t work in court!

2. Crows cawing to each other. The more the merrier (ironically they are called murders). Yes I know, it is a horrible screeching sound. That’s the point, they are communicating some important crow-related info, not just clucking or cooing. See my other list, and really, wouldn’t you rather hear this any day than bratty kids or jackhammers?

3. “We have a winner!” in any contest, even if it’s Bingo with old people. Yes I have beaten old people…at Bingo.

4. “Not guilty, by reason of awesomeness” (Jury deliberated for like 5 minutes and that included bathroom breaks). You might be thinking, wouldn’t it be better to be found guilty of being awesome? Well, that’s just crazy talk there. And going back to #1, that claim has never worked either.

5. Cicadas rustling in the trees. Bonus when they are in several different trees and each pick up where the other left off, like it is a competition. To me, it means the dog days of summer are here, but it is usually the morning when I hear them, still not too hot. A nice start.

6. “And the Yankees have defeated the Red Sux…I mean Sox…wait, I did mean Sux.”

Gotta love traditions.

7. The Star Wars fanfare. Even with the prequels, at least the movies START awesomely.

8. “Mr. Lucas is on the phone. He wants to know what color you want your fully fuctional lightsaber to be.” (note_2: blue or green)

9. The wind blowing and rustling leaves. As with cicadas in summer, this usually means early summer or the middle of fall. A bonus when it’s nice cool weather and I can hear/see the leaves fall and skitter along the ground/concrete.

10. Absolute silence. Sometimes that is the best thing to hear.

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Filed under Complaints, General Nerdliness, Humor, Life, Rants, Writing, Writing Challenges

Trifecta 35/ Zombie Bunnies 15 – The Reckoning, Pt. 1

Ok, this challenge is a doozy. A monster even. Or, a…well you know.

The word limit was raised to 3,333 – if you dared.

The rules/assigned words? None, write what you please – if you double dared. I took the physical challenge.

There was no doubt I wanted to make this epic Zombie Bunny entry. I even thought that I could finish the story in one more big shot. Early drafts got me in that direction, but I figured I could develop the story even deeper with (some) more words. Ok, many.

Make yourself comfy, because at approx. 3,191 words (6 pages), this installment is probably longer than all of the others combined. It may take a while, so if you read it all (even over a couple of days), you’ve flattered me immensely with your dedication.

This is a time when feedback is even more important/appreciated, so hopefully you will enjoy it and let me know what you think.

The story is reaching its climax. A reckoning is at hand. Each character is going to experience a pivotal moment when it all goes down. Let’s start with Allen, who, when we last left him, unceremoniously touched down in hostile bunny territory. It’s now six weeks later…

ALLEN.

Allen woke to an incessant beeping in his ears. Though he had spent half the night expecting it, the sound still managed to catch him off- guard. He absently reached to his right trying to smack an alarm clock. However, the sound was coming from his earbud, which was supposed to be turned off. His searching hand wound up giving a slap/caress to a cheek that was becoming more familiar. Allen turned to the shape beside him.

Carly moaned lightly awakened by his smackdown, but as she turned to look at him, a placid affection was her only expression. “No, don’t look at me, if that camera is on,” she mumbled in mock complaint. “The country doesn’t need to see me first thing. Just you.”

“Camera’s over there, lil’ peep. But yeah, gotta gear up in five.” He got up from the bed, groaning slightly, and staggered to his pack. He pulled off the sheet that covered the camera, just in case Connar decided he wanted to film some after-hours footage for the premium subscribers. As it were at that moment, if the camera had been on, Allen would have been giving viewers a full salute.

Clothes that were comparatively clean were pulled on, and Connar’s voice came through the earbud right on cue.  “Ok Allen, enough rest. Let the lovely girl sleep a while longer.” Allen actually hated the fact that Connar knew about the relationship, more than viewers knowing.  To a man like that, knowledge was power, or worse a bargaining chip.

Allen gave one last look to Carly, the blanket molding her curves as he brought back to mind what was underneath that thin material. He headed to the next room which was small, windowless and sparsely furnished to serve as a private office for him. A laptop sat on the metal desk, the screen flickering on as it booted up automatically. A video camera and lighting setup stood behind the desk facing him; again, as he sat in the green cushioned chair, the equipment lit up and whirred into activity, though it was not recording. Yet.

Connar’s voice now came through the computer’s speakers. “So…how are things, Allen?”

“Not bad.” He hated the small talk. He hated even just having to talk. It was all part of the show.

“Good. Your current stats and standing are displaying now. Congratulations on the 300 kill mark! Of course, none of the others are even close, but there is that one fellow on the fringe who is making a buzz.” Allen sighed. Give people anything that could be remotely competitive, and someone will care a little too much about being the best at it.

Skipping the information in front of him, Allen clicked to the message boards icon. 354 unread messages, all since the previous evening. Marriage proposals, proposals for more short- term interactions (some including Carly), ‘reporters’ from unofficial fan pages, and the usual hate mail. He didn’t need to read them all; most subject lines were a variant of: “Dump Carly and Marry meee!”, “Kill a bunny 4 me!” “10 Questions from the ‘Team Allen’ fanclub!”, “UR sister is hot!” and the ever- scholarly “FUCK YOU, MUDERER!!1” He’d pick a dozen or so at random and answer them live during the morning broadcast. Fan interaction was part of the gimmick. Evening spots were reserved for personal thoughts, opinions and any other bullshit he could think up on the fly.

“We’re live in 60 seconds, assignment uploaded right after.” Connar made it clear that though Allen was there to frag Zombunnies, the overlying priority was to exploit the ratings potential. Allen was at his mercy, since Connar had a dedicated EM satellite trained on Delta Springs that only gave him the information on the bunnies, people and any incidents worth investigating. Intel was given piecemeal and records were deleted automatically after viewing. To his credit, the first assignments played on action (in other words, shock and awe to viewers of constant bunny carnage), so no attention was paid to any kind of plot or caring about what Allen was going through as his exploits played out over the airwaves. Connar somehow found ways to keep him in harm’s way.

Allen knew Richard Connar didn’t trust his reasons for volunteering to drop into a city filled with vicious undead creatures, and hang out with a fringe group that practiced worship of those very animals through rapidly expiring confections and ‘pelts of honor’ just for the warm fuzzy feeling (pun intended).  The pursuit of fortune and fame was a good sell, but not completely convincing, considering Allen didn’t ham it up too much. It was just a matter of moving that one chess piece, to show one card, or other cliché that would give his true purposes away. Preparing for that secondary mission was just as important for him, so he would play good soldier and try not to get himself killed. He was treading carefully, literally and figuratively. Each day, do the show, go out and find bunnies, come across other sects, return home, go to service, and recap the day. The last part was a tricky situation; as some of the bunnymen were watching the show.

It was another issue entirely of how the group was being brought into the plan, and being portrayed to the public. Initially they had been a secretive group, but with the lure of any audience that was watching, the Bunnymen were inevitably becoming more open with their ceremonies. Some members were skeptical of the attention, and when speaking with other groups scattered around Delta Springs, Allen began to hear rumors about something called “Warrens”, which were essentially groups of people balanced precariously between fanboys and cultists. The last thing he needed was another Hare Band.

Personally, Allen was gaining a lot of respect within the Bunnymen’s hierarchy. From the time had had arrived, they had taken him in and he had been attending their services, getting to know who everyone was, figuring out what exactly motivated them, and what they actually planned to do with the zombies. Every day he took one or two members out with him; some were good scouts, some were good shooters, and others were scatterbrained enough to be comic relief, even in dangerous situations.

Then one day, about three weeks in, they surprised him with the ultimate symbol of their acceptance. At the end of a ceremony, Echo walked to a row of zombie rabbit pelts that was on display, chose one, and presented it to Allen. He wore it slung over one shoulder, in one part to add a little swagger, and for other reasons that played out just as he had hoped. It was a rare moment that Allen actually heard sincere approval from Connar; apparently it was the highest rated show to that point.

Allen achieved his own high point later that week. After being a little cool towards him the first few weeks, Carly, the woman who had given Emma and himself the good- luck charms when they first met (her official term was PeepKeeper), had warmed up to his attempts to make time and conversation. Things progressed further, and Carly had actually approached him the night after a particularly rough day when they were ambushed, and lost Barry, one of the guys who was handy with the flamethrower. Allen had thought he and Carly were an item, but she didn’t react particularly badly when the group came back without him. Her timing was perfect; as she stood at the doorway to his office and her own new fur slipped from her shoulders, the show ‘ended’ and Allen’s camera shut off for the night. Allen could almost hear the collective groans from several million male viewers around the country. The time since then had been better; a day of hunting, followed by a night that managed to distract him from the day’s activities.

Allen’s daydream was cut short as he noticed the red light above the camera blinking. When it went solid, they were live. Let’s get this shit over with.

***

Even when things were looking good, it would take just one thing to trip it down a steep hill right into a bad day.

The Sun was shining, there was no stray gunfire going off, no bunnies ambushing from rooftops, no stepping into rabbit holes and having legs gnawed right off. The post- apocalypse might not be so bad today, Allen thought as he walked the streets about a mile north of Bunnymen HQ with Ivan, an even tempered guy in his mid-twenties who was actually a good wingmate; not too gung-ho, nor much of a fanatic to the sect.

Then again, he added grimly, all it takes is one asshole to make it rain crap. And here he comes.

Gary Gray was coming around a corner to their left, as if right on fucking cue, his overstuffed pack rattling behind him, two handguns holstered at his hips. Rather than the town sheriff, there was an ongoing lively and usually hilarious message board debate over whether he was Delta Springs’ official town crier or village idiot. Allen smirked at remembering some of the choice comments.

Ivan groaned audibly; Allen gave a subtle gesture to quiet him. Gary reached the two of them, gave a quick “Hey,” and held out his forearm, which was adorned with terribly rendered depictions of zombie bunnies, and looked more like permanent marker than tattoo ink. Allen hesitated for a moment, then bumped it with his own, while Gary looked into the camera and nodded to the viewers, who were likely groaning collectively as well; ‘Gary episodes’ were particularly loathed, and low- rated. It was more than being a nuisance; with the noise he was making, Allen was surprised that a group of zombies wasn’t trailing behind him.

“Hey Allen, I got the drop on a bunny nest. Found it yesterday while doing my own patrol. Looks like fresh meat too, pretty angry and hungry; my survival skills kept me silent. Want to team up and handle it?”

Shit. This kind of news was bad enough; a new stock of bunnies meant that they weren’t making any fucking headway. So much for 300 kills. That this guy knew about it (before Connar?, Allen wondered) meant he had the edge. He might have to take…

Connar’s voice came over the earbud.  “Screw this asshole. I don’t want him, or you, anywhere near that nest.” Allen understood he was usually beholden to take Richard’s advice, especially with Gary.

“Hold on, Gary.” Allen turned and took a half dozen steps away from the man, who moved to follow him anyway (the guy never fucking listened) until Ivan stepped in his way. When he was out of earshot (the shoulder cam could only pick up what Allen said), he touched the earbud. “Ok, what should we do about this?”

“You don’t do anything. You’ve got five minutes to get to the coordinates I gave you.” Hopefully Gary’s new nest was on the other side of town. He turned and walked back to the others.

“Thanks Gary, but we’ve already got a rendezvous point on a suspicious location. Where exactly is yours? We’ll swing by, check it out late…”

“Yeah you’ll do it later, and not fucking tell me, that it?”

“No, we’ll take care of it.” Allen hated having to placate this asshole.

Gary huffed, not caring to hide his annoyance. “You know there’s a lot of glory to go around. You could throw a little of those ratings to the masses, buddy. You’re not the only hunter out here.” Allen’s finger started to itch; he wanted to pull an HSF* on this schmuck, but the deal with Connar might expire with the loss of the ‘good soldier’ idea they had been building.

Gary turned away and started to pace, then stopped and faced Allen again. “Alright, you know what, yeah go there later, I’ll be waiting.” He handed Ivan a piece of paper, then stormed off. Ivan offered the note to Allen.

“Don’t even open it,” the order was whispered. Allen took the paper, pulled out his lighter and touched the flame to the corner of the page.

“What about the nest though, that could cause us some problems,” Allen asked Connar over the comm. “And how did you not kn..”

“They’re just money in the bank.” Allen furrowed his brow, glad that the camera was over his shoulder, never facing him. Thoughts might be private, but expressions could be read.

“What about Gary?”

“Bunnies gotta eat,” Connar replied matter- of- factly. “Now, get moving.”

* * *

When it rains shit, sometimes it pours. Not half a minute after Gary had gone from sight, there was an explosion, the thunderous report echoing around buildings and streets.

Allen and Ivan dropped to half-crouch positions immediately, then crab- walked to the nearest wall for cover. That better not have been Gary; I’m not saving his ass. He was pretty sure though, that it was ahead to the right, the opposite direction. He turned to Ivan. “What the hell was that?”

“Maybe a store, you know, gas leak… or an IED. Nothing too big, but whatever it was, I don’t think it went off without some help.”

“Sounds like it came from ahead.” Ivan nodded in agreement.  “I’m thinking 3 blocks or so that way.” He pointed northwest, and a nagging thought came to Allen’s mind, front and center. It was going to be close to the area Connar had ordered him to check out.

They waited a moment, listening for any other sounds that might let them know the situation. Several shots rang out in succession; from the weak reports, two things were clear. First, whatever was going down, bunnies were involved. Second, whoever it was didn’t pack enough firepower. This was not going to end well for someone.

They slowed their walk in the direction Ivan guessed. They would alternate looking around, and checking the sky for any sign of a fire. Sure enough, telltale tendrils of black smoke blew over the rooftops, signaling them. It was 2 blocks further than they thought, but the direction was right. They kept their pace; just because they knew where to go didn’t make it a safer situation. Finally, they turned the corner and had a clear view of the destruction.

There was no question it was an attack. Two vans, soccer mom specials with sliding passenger doors, high gloss red paint and novel length bumper stickers were in the middle of the intersection of Church and Redwood.  The tires on both cars were flattened and the lead car’s front section to the driver’s seat was engulfed in flames, the hood detached and crumpled nearby. The rear windows of the second vehicle were smashed in. Allen signaled for Ivan to cover him, and trotting cautiously to the car, half noticing bloody pieces of fur and flesh scattered about, he peeked inside the van. Three bunnies were in there, content to munch on the head of the teenage boy inside for the time being. Allen backed away slowly, but managed to step right onto a shard of glass that cracked under his boot. Without even waiting for the little ears to turn his way, he fired a quick burst into the van and turned. Ivan had his gun trained just over Allen’s shoulder as he returned. “Anything coming?“ he asked his partner.

“No…wait,” Ivan paused and looked off to the side. “Yes, got about a dozen coming.” He shifted his gun to the left as Allen turned and brought his own rifle to bear. A small group of bunnies hopped towards them in a jerky gait from the front door of a corner florist shop. Both men fired and managed to hit several of them while shattering the front windows as well.  The bunnies scattered as the shots rang out and glass shards cascaded around them, one in particular not being quick enough to get clear of the sharp fragments. Allen would have liked to have gotten the entire crew, but sometimes they spooked as easy as when they were living. Getting them out of the way was priority.

Ivan tapped a grenade on the side of his pack. “Want to give any still in there a goose?”

“No, they’re gone, but I think they chased someone in there. They might still be alive. Let’s check it out.” Allen was starting to think he should have brought more people along, but Ivan was worth more than one on his own.

“My turn,” Ivan volunteered. Allen knew his motivations were the polar opposite of Gary’s; he balanced duties with whomever else was in the group. Allen got into line five steps behind his partner as he pulled open the door and walked in.

The front display room was dimly lit by a fluorescent bulb running low, as well as the natural light coming in through the empty windowpanes. Stacks of overgrown and browning plants lined the floors. The scent of fresh bouquets was gone, a light rotting odor mixed with the burning scent of gunpowder was in the air. There wasn’t enough space to for any bunnies to hide, so Ivan went straight to the back area where bouquets were arranged.

They could hear a slight moan come from the back room. Ivan peeked around the corner. He relaxed his stance and half turned to Allen, giving the clear sign and lowering his rifle. Allen did the same as they walked into the room.

Sprawled across the dirt and blood stained floor were two more bunnies, dead, and 3 adults. One male, plainly dead, with his face chewed off, fully dressed in denim, a pistol in his cold, dead hand. Two females, one middle aged and heavyset, the other late 30’s with dyed blonde hair and a matching grey yoga shirt & pant outfit. The older woman was the only living one, but she was on her way out too, judging by the chunks the bunnies had taken from her torso. Her shirt was ripped in spots, but Allen still managed to make out the words and picture displayed on the front of the garment; “Team Allen”. The picture was no better, as it was a portrait of him shooting at something (likely bunnies), along with some grossly exaggerated caricatures of the zombunnies superimposed around him.

The zombie plague’s become marketable, he thought. We’ve lost. Game over, man.

“I’m a big fan.” Those words interrupted his thoughts and he focused back on the woman, who was looking at him with her one remaining eye and managing a weak grin. “I’m the head of a ‘team’ chapter. There’s some candied yams back in the truck, it’s a special recipe I made, topped with the purple peeps. I know those are your favorite.”

Allen’s mouth gaped. He had no idea what to say. It didn’t matter, as the woman’s stare was now unblinking.

“You were too late, Allen,” Connar whispered in his ear, “but don’t worry. This is even better. Don’t move…keep the camera on her. Good job.”

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Filed under Creative Writing, General Nerdliness, Horror, Trifecta Writing Challenge, Writing, Writing Challenges, Zombie Bunnies

Better Late Than Never 2: The Odds of Survival Are…

Continuing the BLTN series, here is another Trifecta prompt that I missed out on during the July 4th weekend. It was something almost tailor-made for Zombie Bunnies, but our heros and villains might have a little more time than that before the wascaly wabbits take over completely.

So I went with a little nerd humor. Ok a lot. (Yes as opposed to the high literature of ZB)

For the weekend challenge, we’re playing the ambiguity card again and leaving interpretation up to you. Give us 33-333 words with this as your inspiration:

The world will end in three days.

Meh, I ignored the word limit, since it doesn’t matter at this point, right? Enjoy!

* * *

“Well,” Peter commiserated, as they watched the news of the world’s impending demise, “at least we’re getting more notice than the people on Alderaan.” He and his friends were sitting in a bar they found called ‘Moss & Ivy’. The name was so familiar, it was pointless for them to resist going in.

“Or the Death Stars, particularly the first one,” Kelly added. Everyone nodded in agreement.

“Hey even Earth, in the Hitchhiker Series!” Christopher pointed out.

“I don’t think that counts,” Kelly argued, as she sipped from her glass. “They were notified months before, they just never filled out the paperwork.”

“Oh give me a friggin break, we…I mean they, didn’t have space travel abilities to get TO the forms. They didn’t even know about the construction. So they WERE notified last minute.”

As they began to debate their points more animatedly, the bartender stomped over to them, irate. “Listen nerds, the other customers are getting annoyed at your stupid conversations. And no,” he remarked as Peter held up his empty glass, “I’m not making any more of those ‘blue milks’. This is a bar, not your parents’ basement.”

The trio knew they should get out before the sabers started flying. They had a feeling they wouldn’t be able to influence these weak minded people anyway (a notion that made Kelly reconsider her level of Force premonition skills). They got up to leave, pulling their robes on, hoods up so they wouldn’t have to make eye contact.

“Go back home, we don’t need your ComiCon dollars!” one patron berated as they left, the front door shutting out the rest of the taunts.

“I knew it would just be a wretched hive of scum and villainy,” Christopher gloated as they headed down the street.

“Who needs these nerf herders anyway,” Kelly grumbled. “Let’s just go home and put on the original trilogy.”

“Blu-ray?” Peter asked warily. “I know you bought that new box set Christopher, you know, with the pink sabers and blinking Ewoks. Laserbrain.” Feeling irritated (especially since he would likely never sell that stupid set), Christopher gestured to Peter with his thumb and index finger almost touching, while Peter fussed with his lightsaber replica (purple blade for Mace Windu; Peter preferred the Vaapad fighting style), which was snagged on his belt.

Kelly interrupted their argument. “No, I have the VHS tapes, HSF* edition. These don’t even have those stupid interviews beforehand.”

The other two looked at each other and nodded, forgoing their rivalry. Together they headed home, each wondering if the story of Earth would be retold many, many years from then, somewhere in the Andromeda galaxy, and thankful that Jar Jar Binks wouldn’t be a character in theirtale.

*Bonus to anyone who gets this reference.

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Filed under Better Late Than Never, Creative Writing, General Nerdliness, Humor, Writing, Writing Challenges

The Hat Has Challenged!

Ok well time is up, put your pencils down.

So I had a few responses, 2 is enough to mix things up enough…but wait! The little lady noticed my contest and volunteered her own choices, but (wait again!) chose to stick them in the hat without telling me what they were. There are more twists here than a factory that makes those twisty things that they tie bread with and that cats love.

Anyway here is the hat with the submissions…I chose my (one of many) Yankees cap, to esure something successful 😉

And the picks are:
Object #1 – Carton of eggs
Object #2 – One Key
Location – Forest
Plotline – Honeymoon
Genre – Science Fiction
Word Count – 531

So there you go! I will say that I am already buzzing with ideas 🙂

Now for our pics for…Ms. ODNT
Object #1 – Camera
Object #2 – Photo
Location – NYC 2112 (Keep in mind that you can do NYC in the year 2112, but not the incredibly awful tourist trap restaurant Mars 2112).
Plot – I am Milo! (Get it? Milo is last cat…like ‘I Am Legend’…Will Smith remake…?)
Genre – Romantic Comedy
Word count – 500 words

Well let’s round this all out for fun. Wubboomummy, your topics are
Object #1 – Fiji Spy
Object #2 – Milo (what a team!)
Location – Mongolia 1982
Plot – Saving Time! (Digital watch thefts!)
Genre – Thriller
Word Count – 611 words (and wish ODNT happy birthday – it will not count towards the total wc)

Good luck!

If you can/want, stories are due Tuesday morning, before morning turns to noon (EST) whenever you can get them in. You all have lives and other priorities and I will respect it. Plus, I just scribbled down some ideas, and I have to say that this might become something big. Let me wrangle it in – but I am going on vacation (with very limited interwebs) from the middle to weekend. I’ll do right by you all and write 😉

Thanks to all participants!

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Filed under Creative Writing, General Nerdliness, Writing, Writing Challenges