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June 9, 2005

Volume 2, Issue 9

Choose your own adventure...

YOU are the hero of this story!

Be a deliveryman transporting something vitally important.

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Comments

Don’t get me wrong. This is a great outfit to be working for. The hours are good, the medical plan is the best, and I’ve got a good route with very little traffic.

The thing is, sometimes the things I handle give me the creeps. Like, what civilian would be buying explosives, rockets, and heavy duty ordnance? Some of this stuff is restricted as hell. And out in the middle of nowhere, as well. I try not to think of terrorists, but my best customer ain’t even human.

Here we are. A cave. I ring the doorbell.

“Delivery. Acme Manufacturing.”

Posted by: ErnieG at June 9, 2005 4:55 AM · Permalink

After an eternity, I finally made it to the head of the line. I gave my name, and the gatekeeper flipped through a huge volume.

"Ah, you're the reason for all this mess," he said.

"Me?"

"If you hadn't stopped for lunch, your package would have made it to the airport on time, been delivered a day earlier, and the computer at NORAD would have been fixed, instead of indicating a flock of geese was a fleet of incoming ICBM's. And I wouldn't have all these souls to deal with," Saint Peter groused.

Oops. But that was a great cheeseburger.

Posted by: hnumpah at June 9, 2005 7:32 AM · Permalink

I didn’t recognize the ship type but the transponder signal was right. I hailed it even though I had a bad feeling about this delivery.

“State your business,” said the voice on the radio link.

“GalEx.”

“Who?”

“Galactic Express. I have a delivery.”

I was met by several armed guards in full combat gear. “Who’s going to sign for this?” I asked. One guard stepped forward.

“Here,” I said, pointing at the line. “Right next to ‘D.S. Plans’.”

A quick signature and I was on my way. Damn rebels. Say what you want, at least the Empire gives good tips!

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at June 9, 2005 7:58 AM · Permalink

With respect to Alfred, Lord Tennyson these six hundred were not going to become infamous. It was impressed on me in no uncertain terms that I was to be clear, "Hold your ground!" was to be the entire and only message. I had driven hard since the order was given, these jeeps may be the greatest thing since sliced bread but war has never been kind to the roads. Much to reckless that last check point actually shot at me. Luckily I have the orders also written down, all I have to do is get close. Just around this hill.

Posted by: Blaine at June 9, 2005 8:34 AM · Permalink

It was hell trying to get a job as a minority. His degrees didn't count for anything. The only job he could get was as a deliveryman for a high end confectionary store.

Hell, just riding the bike through the streets of New York was a major challenge.

Somedays he was ready to give up his dreams and move back home.

He exited the elevator and found the apartment.

He rang the doorbell.

"Candygram", he cheerfully called out.

The door edged open, and quickly slammed shut with the yell "landshark!".

I really hate Lorne Michaels, he thought with a sigh.

Posted by: Gahrie at June 9, 2005 8:37 AM · Permalink

1. The package is for downtown. To use the streets, read 2. To cut through the park, read 3.

2. Midway there, a crosstown bus smashes into your bike. THE END.

3. Your shortcut works out well. There's a rotweiller in the lobby. To ignore
him, read 4. To say something calming, read 5. To shoot it, read 6.

4. The dog attacks, biting your arm. You catch rabies. THE END.

5. "Nice Doggie". It's tail wags. You go in. Tip: only $2. THE END.

6. You miss. The bullet ricochets twice and hits you in the eyeball. THE END.

Posted by: Jeff R. at June 9, 2005 10:09 AM · Permalink

“How the mighty have fallen,” thought Conrad, wiping the blood and bone from his saw. He leaned against the wall, leaving a bloody handprint. He didn’t care.

He and his partner had once headed the President’s security detail. Two weeks ago, however, at the height of the outbreak, they’d hesitated. Only for a second, but that was enough to make the President doubt their commitment. Now, his partner was dead, and he’d been busted down to pickup and deliveries.

He finished putting the body parts in the bag, and headed back to the White House. The President needs fresh meat.

Posted by: copygodd at June 9, 2005 10:52 AM · Permalink

I was held up in Toledo for 15 microsecond but I was really booking now. If I made it through San Fran without getting diverted through Australia like last time (wtf was that all about?), I ought to arrive in the acceptable time window, a cool 72ms after recieving the delivery request. Sure, I'd like to have gotten it there in more like 20ms, but 72ms was considered acceptable.

SF went fine, then LA, San Diego, Carlsbad, Vista, 5 Parker Place ... I'm here! "All right sir, here is your web page. I am the internet. You're welcome. Enjoy your porn."

Posted by: pyrrho at June 9, 2005 12:59 PM · Permalink

I've got to deliver all twenty-three of these babies and it's got to happen NOW!

Good thing I was at the front of the line.

"Step aside you tail-chasing losers!"

I'll get a little more elbow room once I clear this bottleneck.

"Hey you guys, I think that side street is a shortcut!" Ha! Gullible idiots.

Shit. Some of these dudes are for real.
Relax. I've got plenty of sugar for the trip.
Breathe. Keep a steady rhythm.

Here we go.
"Hey! Special delivery! Urgent! I didn't run that gauntlet to stand out here banging my head on the door!"

Posted by: skinbad at June 9, 2005 1:09 PM · Permalink

do mispelled words count? hope so. :)

Posted by: pyrrho at June 9, 2005 1:17 PM · Permalink

I get the call at 4:20 in the morning. I’m used to that sort of thing, though, and I’m dressed and out in the door in less than three minutes.

They gave me lights and a siren so I use them.

They’re ready for me at the first hospital. The liver is already on ice and packed into the special cooler. I sign for it and go.

“Thank you so much,” sobs a crying lady at my delivery stop. “This will save my baby.”

I’m not the hero. The young couple still crying at the first hospital. They’re the heroes.

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at June 9, 2005 2:57 PM · Permalink

jim, very nice.

Posted by: pyrrho at June 9, 2005 3:49 PM · Permalink