Monday, July 18, 2011

Bedtime Stories for Weird Kids: Pressed Flowers

Thirty or so of them called out in utter writhing pain.

“Tell my wife she’s the elegance of moon light,” a man cried.

“You’re no Shakespeare,” Jamie said. She flicked a wrist recorder on. “Try to keep your screaming down a bit. It’d be a shame if your rambling drown out someone truly eloquent.”

Tears of uncomprehending streamed down his face.

The second attendant, Perrine, scowled.

Their screams died down as machines removed the last liquid from the bodies.

“Status?” Jamie said.

Perrine checked her monitor and looked up. “100% compliance.”

Jamie engaged the transport. The bodies whirred out of existence.

“Five minutes before incoming,” Jamie said.

“You really think it’s ok?”

“Think what’s ok?”

“Recording them like that.”

“The most painful and—thankfully—impossible to remember event in anyone’s life and you think traffic attendants are the only ones who should hear the beautiful prose it produces?”

Perrine frowned. “It’s not right.”

Jamie’s console buzzed. “Incoming.”

“That seems early.”

“Yeah, about three minutes.”

The sarcophagi filled with bodies. Jamie and Perrine checked the feeder tubes on each.

“Everything cool on your end?” Jamie asked.

“Yes, but don’t think we’re done with the conversation.”

Jamie engaged the hydrators.

Liquid filled the bodies. When they reached 99% of full, Perrine turned life support on.

Thirty bodies gasped in quick succession.

The passengers roused gradually and left the transport room in an orderly, if groggy fashion.

A young man stopped at Jamie’s controls to shake her hand. “Thank you so much for everything,” he said.

When the passengers had all exited, Jamie cracked a grin at Jamie. “See?”


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Friday, July 8, 2011

Bedtime Stories for Weird Kids: How to Play Hipster Tag

Not precisely a story, but I've established some precedent for this sort of thing.

Hipster Attack:
1. For this game, you must be in a public place where other people are around. Playing Hipster Tag in your house is far too mainstream.
2. Look for a hipster.
3. Point at the hipster and shout “Hipster!” like a cross between a battle-cry and a monster truck announcer.

Hipster Hipped:
1. If you are identified as a hipster, you must fight back.
2. Examine your accuser and pick something about them to be hipster about. For instance, if your accuser is wearing a collared shirt, shout back, “I wore dress shirts ironically before your mom knew what drool is!”

Hipster Battle:
1. All participants continue as in step 2 of Hipster Hipped until all but one of the hipsters runs out of insults. The remaining hipster is “too hip to live.” Also, that hipster wins. Buy that hipster some PBR.

Bonus: If you identify a Hipster and they don’t know Hipster Tag, you get ten points and also get to shout, “It’s called Hipster Tag. You’ve probably never heard of it. It’s too underground.”


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