I haven't touched my Xbox these last few days, but that won't stop the writing. Today, I thought I'd give you three five minute drills I've done this week. Now, I will say that I do edit them after they're done, but ONLY to fix typos. No content changes ever get made. When I'm trying to write as fast and furious as I can, I make quite a few typos, so I've gone back and edited them so that what you see below is actually readable. Gaming will pick up on Sunday/Monday, and again near the end of the month, when I have my brother over for a week, and then Mass Effect 2 comes out.
Heck, let me give you an outline of the next few posts I have on tap:
Saturday - OFF. I'l be out of state all day having fun with friends.
Sunday - Don't know what it'll be yet, but it's going to be a more serious post. Perhaps my first editorial in a while. I need to do those more often. May not be gaming related, but I'd do my darndest to make it interesting, whatever it is.
Monday- TWO POSTS! One will be gaming related. The other will be about blogging, and some of the interesting things that have been happening around here of late.
Alright folks, I'm off to watch some Stargate Atlantis on DVD and continue reading Stephen King's "Under the Dome," both of which feel far more appealing tonight that gaming, or God forbid, chasing achievements.
Enjoy some five minute fiction!
Gordon had no idea what he was looking at. The substance was a purplish color, with the consistency of jelly, and pulsated faintly, as if it has a life of its own. It coated the walls of his lab, six inches thick in some places... and it hadn't been there the night before.
"Sarah?" Gordon called down the hall for his research partner. She'd probably done it. Always working late into the night to try to get in that one last experiment... it wasn't healthy, he thought. When in one of her manic late night binges, she's probably mixed a couple of the compounds and created the... stuff.
She came down the hall, the distinctive click of her heels marking her every step, and stopped at the entrance of the room. "Gordon, what did you do?"
"I was about to ask you the same thing." He took out a scalpel and poked it. The purple mass responded by swelling out from the wall where he had touched it and swallowed his scalpel. He could barely withdraw his hand from joining the feast. "We're going to need a quarantine team in here."
"I'm on it." Sarah said, and dashed as fast as a woman reasonably can be expected to on heels down the corridor toward their guards.
Gordon made his way carefully out of the lab and down the hall to he security room to check the video. Maybe viewing last night's tape would reveal what happened.
"I don't think you should eat that." Sharon said.
"Fuck off Sharon, I'll eat what I want."
"How do you expect to reach your weight loss goals by eating more ice cream?"
"Sharon, I order you to shut up for the next five minutes." Kevin said. Wonder of wonders, the device on his wrist obeyed. Thank god for small favors.
Everyone assured him the iAssistant was the sexy new gadget you just had to have. Had to. It was, like, impossible to get laid anymore without one. Truth was, it was having the thing that made it impossible to get laid. Wasn't the adaptive AI supposed to tailor itself to each person's personality to be their perfect assistant? The thing was just a naggy little bitch... Kevin didn't need a wife, thank you oh so very much.
He dug his spoon into the Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream and took a heaping mouthful. He knew Sharon would try to make him run his ass off for it tomorrow, but it would be in vain. Sure, the iAssistant could measure all his bodily readings and tell him just how much of a fat ass he was being, but it couldn't actually fire up the reflexes to make him jog, could it. No, Kevin thought with a grin as he went for another spoonful. No it most surely could not.
He couldn't see it, but he knew the thing was stalking him. Assessing him. Waiting for the opportunity. Truly, it probably had five or six chances by now, and hadn't taken them. It was mocking him. Staying close enough to make sure he knew it was around, but never revealing its position. Darren sprinted through the forest, knowing it was futile the whole time but refusing to give the fucking thing the satisfaction of just laying down and dying easy.
As he jumped over a log in the pale moonlight, he checked his ammo loadout. Two clips left. He could have two hundred, it wouldn't really matter. He didn't have any mags capable of piercing reaper armor. Intel said the last of the reapers had been wiped out. Intel, as usual, was shit.
A low rumble came from his left. Derren shifted his aim and fired two three shot burst into the dense forest. From his rear came a shrill screech. Darren gave that sound a grenade to ponder. From above, a hoot, as if from an owl, but it was no owl... and all that noise was from one goddamned reaper. The alien killing machines had the be the best ventriloquists the universe had ever seen. The thing probably wasn't even in ANY of those directions.