Broken Mirror Shards - Dr. Claw (Day 5)

Here's the link list again:

Bria Burton
Rish Outfield

And here's day five.  I wrote 561 more, putting me at 3,808.

Here you go:

    “Come on, Dr. Claw!” Brody shouted, “Help me out here!”  He punched the side of the machine, and then kicked it as well for good measure, as the claw came slowly back to the start position and opened up to let the big wad of nothing it had grabbed fall into the hopper.  Brody had exchanged a ten dollar bill for a roll of quarters five minutes after arriving at the Round Table.  He’d used up all seven of the quarters he’d found in his various change jars he had around his apartment quickly, and needed some more.

    The workers at this pizzeria were probably standing by on the phone with the police, just waiting for him to lose control and start breaking things up.  After all, an adult standing in their lobby for an hour, playing his way through 46 quarters, shouting and cursing at the machine the whole time, surely seemed primed to start some trouble.  Brody knew just how crazy he looked, but he couldn’t give up hope.  Dr. Claw had saved him once.  He knew, deep in his heart he knew it would save him again.

    But now he was down to his last quarter.  He didn’t have any others, and he didn’t have any money to get more.  A quarter was only a quarter, so he could probably get another somehow, but he couldn’t help thinking that now was his chance.  The magic was crackling in the air right now, and if he didn’t win something now, it would be gone when he came back with some other quarter scrounged out of his couch.

    “Okay,” he said, “Mysterious Force, whatever you are that is in charge of this machine and gave me the lottery ticket last time, please help me out here.  I’m desperate.  I need your help again.”  He plugged in his quarter, his last quarter, and the machine sprang to life. Brody closed his eyes, and guided the joystick by feel and instinct alone.  He imagined himself like Luke Skywalker, turning off his targeting computer and firing the proton torpedoes when the force told him to.  He let off the joystick, and hit the drop button.

    He opened his eyes, and watched the claw plunge into the stuffed animals.  It tilted on its side, and lay there like a dead bird, shot from its perch high in the trees.  Then the chain began drawing it back up.  This was the point where Todd had noticed that Brody had actually won something special.  Brody had already been convinced that it had been a bust, just like he was now, but then it had risen out of the pile of fur and fluff with a most odd prize in its grasp.

    He watched this time, as the claw rose. The claw from the turn he had bought with his last quarter rose out of the stuffed animals completely empty-handed.  Brody felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach.  He felt physically sick.  He could have turned and vomited all over the lobby floor if only there had been something in his stomach, but he’d spent his money on the claw machine instead of pizza.

    He stood for a moment in front of the machine.  He breathed deeply, slowly, with his eyes shut.  Then he turned, and walked out of the restaurant with his head held low.

Pic Or Pict?

There's somebody I work with who may be the only person alive who abbreviates pictures as picts and not pics. No idea why, but I don't like it. He must conform!

Broken Mirror Shards - Dr. Claw (Day 4)

Okay, so, it's time for some more Dr. Claw.  But before we go there, here's the links to the other folks participating in the contest or event or whatever the proper name for it would be.

Bria Burton
Rish Outfield

Pretty small number of participants, considering how many sounded interested to begin with, but it's all good.

Here's another installment of my story. 515 words today, which puts me at 3,247.  Hope you enjoy it.

“Hello,” he said when his phone rang.  He listened for a moment, then, “yes, this is Brody McMillan…”  This had become a constant part of his life recently, fielding calls from collections agencies.

It was all true.  He was broke.  He should have seen it coming.  Living the way he’d been living this year, he was bound to run through that money fast, but he’d willfully avoided the news.  He hadn’t looked at his bank balance or statements in more than two months.  He was so angry at himself, because he knew lottery winners were prone to this.  He’d read articles about the phenomenon on the internet before he ever won himself.  He’d sworn that he wouldn’t end up like that when he collected his money, but here he was.  Not only was he out of money, he had run his credit cards to the limit.  He was as bad off as he had been before Jason had challenged him to get something out of that stupid claw machine.

Well, he couldn’t call the claw machine stupid.  That wasn’t fair.  A year of luxury was better than most people got.  He couldn’t complain that he didn’t get a lifetime of luxury instead.  Hell, it was probably his own fault for being so magnanimous.  He gave half of his money to Jason and Todd.  He could have lived another year on that if only he’d been more selfish.  Why didn’t they ever teach the importance of being selfish in kindergarten or on those after school specials on TV?

    As he sat on his designer couch listening with his top-of-the-line iPhone to a brute threatening him about what could happen if he didn’t start paying his bills, he wondered if there was any way out of this mess.  It had seemed hopeless before, but a miracle had swooped down like a god in his flaming chariot and made everything all right.  A lot of times during the past year, he’d figured he should have made a statue of that claw machine, to remember how it had saved him.

    Suddenly, he sat bolt upright in the sofa. He punched the end button, cutting the brute off in mid-threat.  The claw machine was the answer.  Dr. Claw surely had more to offer him.  After all, it had saved him once by sending a winning lottery ticket his way.  Surely it wouldn’t have done that only to let him sink to the bottom for real just one year later.  It had to have some purpose for him.  Whatever god or divine providence or mysterious magical force had put that lottery ticket into the claw’s grasp for him the first time, would surely help him again.  It couldn’t leave him to founder before he ever got to his grand purpose.  After all, his book was coming along, and soon enough he’d finish it.  Maybe that was how he would change the world.

    He grabbed his coat, and headed out into the rain.  He needed to go back to Round Table Pizza, and see what Dr. Claw had in store for him.

Dunesteef Episode 162: Last Contact by Rish Outfield and B.D. Anklevich

New episode of The Dunesteef up!

Everyone finds the Others revolting. They are aliens, unwelcome visitors now squatting on Earth. And when Hughes is forced to partner up with one of the Others for his Biology class presentation, he is mortified and disgusted. But will he still feel that way once he’s gotten to know her?

Afterward, we invite the producer of today’s story, Clay Dugger, into the studio to discuss the story, its length, and lack of awesomeness.

Special thanks to Clay Dugger for producing today’s story, to Renee Chambliss, Thea Killen-Smith, Dave Robison, Rich Girardi, Abigail Hilton, Jay Langejans, Julie Hoverson, Joe Zieja, Gino Moretto, Bryan Lincoln, and Clay Dugger for lending their voices to the episode, and to Gino Moretto for creating the art for the story.

Head over to the site (EDIT: Now that the feed is gone, the only way to hear the show is over on the Dunesteef Podcast YouTube page, which I am embedding below).

Good Mythi***fuzz***cal Morn*****FUZZZZ

I'm uploading the newest episode of the show right now, and my son is in the other room complaining because it's making his viewing of Good Mythical Morning difficult. Our internet is pretty slow, makes YouTube get freezy.

Broken Mirror Shards - Dr. Claw (Day 3)

Okay, it looks like Bria Burton has joined the fray too.  So, here's a link to her blog.  Her story is called Little Angel Helper.

Then there's Rish's story.  Here's the link to his blog.  His story is as yet untitled.

My story is Dr. Claw.  This is day 3 of Dr. Claw.  It's up to 2,750 words now.  Probably about halfway there.  Here's more:

Brody was at Mulvaney’s with his friend Tena.  He wished she was more than his friend, because she was gorgeous, especially since she’d gone on a diet a few months ago and lost the weight that was starting to make her soft in all the wrong places.  Sadly, she was married, and even happily so.  So, it didn’t matter how many times he invited her out to dinner at Mulvaney’s, she was never going to look at him as anything but a friend.  Maybe things would change some day.  A guy could hope, right?

Brody had ordered the griddled mahi mahi, and Tena had the Pumpkin Foieffle.  They’d both been excellent, and when the check came, Brody didn’t even glance at the steep price he’d paid for this meal.  He simply slipped his card into the slot, and let the waiter take it away to run it for him.  He put his chin in his hands, and listened as Tena told him about the exploits of her two rugrats.  He wasn’t really paying attention to her words, but he did like to watch her pretty lips make them.  Damn, he wished he’d won the lottery five years ago when Tena was still available.  She might have looked at him as something more than just a troubled slacker if he’d had a bit of cash and could take her out to dinners at nice places like this.

The waiter was back with his card, “I’m sorry, sir,” she said, “this card was denied.  Do you have a different one you’d like us to run instead?”

“What?” Brody said, thunderstruck.  He had won the lottery.  His card was never denied.  “That’s not right.”

He pulled out his wallet, and looked mindlessly at its contents.  How could he be denied?  He had plenty of money, didn’t he?

“Oh no, Brody, do you need me to get this?” Tena asked.

“No. No, um,” he looked numbly at his wallet for a while longer, realizing that he had no cash on him, and the Visa Checkcard that he used for everything having been denied left him without options.  He didn’t want to let Tena pay.  The last thing he needed for her to have to pay and have her old opinion of him brought to the forefront and reinforced.  Her pretty lips would never touch his if that happened.  But he had no other option.  Did they let people wash dishes to pay off their meal?

“Um,” he stammered, then finally, smiling sheepishly, “Yeah, I guess I do need you to get this.  I don’t know what’s going on.  I’ll pay you back when I figure out why my card was denied.”

Tena grabbed the folder with the check in it, glanced at the price, and her eyes widened slightly.  Brody sagged further in his chair.  This was an expensive place, and Brody had just dumped the big bill in her lap.  The worst kind of heel.  Tena slipped her Visa out of the wallet in her purse, and handed it to the waiter.

Outside afterward, Tena seemed distracted.  For the last eight months, each time Brody took his old friend out to dinner, she would kiss him airily on each cheek when they separated to go to their respective cars.  Today, there was no such show of casual affection.  She simply said goodbye, and hopped into her Prius and drove off.  It only served to further deflate Brody’s spirit, which had already taken a crushing blow with the denial of his card.

He had to hurry home, and find out just what exactly had happened.

Broken Mirror Shards - Dr. Claw (Day 2)

Rish Outfield is beginning his story today over on his blog.  You can follow the link to Rish's Ramblings, and read along as we go.

Here's a picture I took of myself writing on the story at my family reunion last week.  Man have I gotten fat over this summer.  Something's gotta be done about that.

Okay, day two of Dr. Claw.  Here's more of the story.

    Brody took the ticket into a gas station that proclaimed to be "Your Lottery Headquarters" and discovered that his ticket was worth $500,000, which, of course, the gas station couldn't cash out for him.  He was going to have to contact lottery officials to work out the payment.  

    He did, and true to his word, he shared his ticket with Todd and Jason.  The two of them took one half, and he took the other half.  The lottery officials informed him that he had two options.  He could take a payment plan that would give him a modest payment once a month and eventually pay out the entire amount over the space of thirty years, or he could just take half the amount in one big lump sum.  His recent money troubles made the decision easy.  He needed the money now.

    Within a week's time, a check for his lump sum of $125,000 landed in his overdrawn bank account.  Soon, he was installed in a new apartment, and the fact that he had no job wasn't such an issue.  He even dumped a payment of $48.16 into Jason and Todd's Paypal account for the pizza they'd bought him that fateful and an extra twenty-five cents to repay them for the quarter that brought that fateful lottery ticket into their lives.

    As he sat down in his posh apartment on his new couch in front of his new big screen HDTV to watch Game Of Thrones on HBO on his new cable subscription, he remembered that guy who had warned him that everyone who played that claw machine went away sad rather than happy.  What had that guy been talking about?  He couldn't have been more wrong.  His life had turned on a dime at that claw machine, and sped off in a completely new and thoroughly better direction.  He’d never been more satisfied with any decision in his life than he was with the decision to give that machine a try.

    Brody still had no job, but he didn’t care.  He was financially solvent for the first time in years.  His steady slide into homelessness had been halted, and now he could even do whatever he wanted for a year at least, several years if he was careful.  He’d been thinking about it, and decided that now was his chance to write his novel.  He’d always wanted to write novels, surely a year of free time would be enough to write one, right?  He’d bought himself a nice Macbook from the local Apple Store, and tomorrow, he planned to take it to the Naked Lounge coffee shop on Q street, set up camp in a booth, and write, like he’d seen other people doing.  

Vampire novels and YA dystopian novels were selling really well these days, so that seemed like a natural target to shoot for.  Maybe combining the two, YA dystopian vampire novel, surely all the publishing companies would be drooling for the chance to publish it when he was done.  All he needed was a strong female character, a love triangle, and a dystopian future, and he could print his own money for the rest of his life, he was sure of it.

But for now, some Game of Thrones and a nice Vodka and Red Bull to smooth the edges would do.  Tomorrow is when he’d get going on the rest of his life.

#

The next day, though, he woke up hungover, and instead of heading to the coffee shop, he had a little hair of the dog that bit him.  That wound up being a week long process, during which he was only sober first thing in the morning, before having some more hair of the dog.  He wasn’t worried, though.  He had enough money that episodes like this weren’t a problem.  Weren’t all the great writers drunks or drug addicts anyway?

            He finally made it to the Naked Lounge eight days after he’d decided to go there.  He ordered his coffee, and found a booth to his liking.  He sat down, tapped into the free WiFi, and started researching ideas for the novel.  He discovered just what an endless loop research could be, as he jumped from one link to the next to the next.  The next time he looked up, the day was gone.  He’d been researching vampire dystopia ideas for three hours, and realized that he was no closer to coming up with an idea than he had been when he sat down.  This was going to be more of a process than he originally believed.