When I woke up with a feather on my arm, I knew I'd dreamt of flying. That was awesome. Waking up with dog bites? Not so cool.
“Captain, the shields are down to seventy-three percent!”
“Damn it, engineer, quit wasting time typing out full number words for shield percentages or I’ll drink your secret scotch supply you think I don’t know about and sleep with all your alien wenches on your next shore leave!”
“You were going to do that anyway, Captain.”
“The engineer has a point,” the pointy-eared, green-blooded Vulcan interjected. “Also, I believe it is illogical to type this conversation over IRC when we’re all on the bridge.”
The captain kicked the Vulcan from the channel.
“Who gave the captain OP?!” The doctor shouted.
“I’m werry sorry, doctor. It von’t happen again.”
“CHEKOV!” The bridge crew exclaimed.(Read more!)
“Mommy, we haven’t seen your car in awhile. Where’s it been?” Tammy asked.
Eleanore panicked. She hadn’t realized this day would come so soon.
Timmy and Tanya were interested too. They gathered around her like a council of velociraptors.
“Well, darlings. That car, you know how much she hated the city—”
“But we’re five miles outside of the city!” Timmy said, arms crossed and lip curled.
Damned Edmund. Why’d he give the kids GPS for Christmas anyway?
“Even five miles was too close. You remember how much she loved chasing after cows. She’s happier in the country, pestering the chickens!”
This week’s Highlighter is a little heavier on the non-fiction. Hope you enjoy.
It had been a once in a lifetime chance. He spotted the craft and knew—even with a million things to do—it would be worth the chance.
He waited several hours, not willing to risk a minute for a piss.
The gangly creatures walked on fours, and had mottled blue skin. Their language consisted of chirps and clicks with the occasional hum that covered several octaves simultaneously.
When they were nearly ready to leave, he sneaked aboard.
Grjerlik found the dead thing. Its immune system hadn’t quite survived the common bacteria. It was a shame. They were so cute.
It had to be a malfunction. Every time the QR-33 reviewed any data on the man, its processor use suddenly spiked. QR wasn’t sure what was being processed, but something big surely.
QR thought there might be a secret lock on the man’s file, but several spider processes had been deployed to discern the state of the rogue processes.
The answers were … pointless. Calculations about his symmetry or the way the light reflected in his eyes.
QR consulted a psycholobot once the other diagnostics had completed.
The diagnosis was absurd. QR simply couldn’t be in love with him. Could it?