« Stacy: Til Death Do Us Part | Main | Jim: Tough Love »

November 29, 2006

11.29.06

Because Jim said it couldn't be done:

All’s fair in love and war. Describe using nuclear weapons for both. (Or either. Extra style points for both.)

Bookmark: del.icio.us • Digg • reddit

Comments

Just to clarify:

I didn't say it couldn't be done. I said it wouldn't be done.

Thanks for making me a liar! :)

Posted by: Jim Parkinson at November 29, 2006 2:29 AM · Permalink

Being a spy is a dangerous business just ask Boris Numemko who was recently found dead after his girlfriend killed him with a lethal dose of radioactive clap.

She had the unfortunate bad luck to have been visiting her controller in Umbakistan when their neighbour Aintthatastan hit the city with a dirty nuke.

She gave Boris the clap when she travelled back to London to report on how her government was about to detonate a real bomb in the capital of their enemy.

Their celebration of the destruction of their enemy ended in a night of passion flowing with champagne.

Posted by: Andrew Ian Dodge at November 29, 2006 6:10 AM · Permalink

Boom Goes The Dynamite

They met on a moonlight night under the clear sky. The stars winked down on them, giving approval to the love blooming in the air. He was from the west and she was from the east. So different were their skins, but they were the same underneath. Their attraction to each other was like a magnet.

“You are beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“I think I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Upon their declaration, they kissed. Their passion was explosive and spanned across the earth in a fiery lust. Unfortunately, their love was the last thing anyone on the planet saw.

Posted by: Laieanna at November 29, 2006 9:30 AM · Permalink

Love is Blind Deaf and Mute

I’m the trusting sort. I’m a trusting wife, I must be.

When I ask my husband, “Honey, does my butt look big in these slacks?”, I’m trusting
him. I’m handing him an armed nuclear weapon and I’m trusting him not to start a war,
but, to demonstrate his love for me.

If its war he wants, I’m ready. I’ve looked at my butt in these slacks and I’m not in a
very good mood.

If love is on his mind, then I am all powerful. Just the way I like it.

“Honey, does my butt look big in these slacks?”

Posted by: kasac at November 29, 2006 2:48 PM · Permalink

Turns out, Nuclear arms are for hugging.

The cyberbrain inside the mega-tank thrilled to its lover's radar-ping. She, too, was an artificially intelligent killing machine capable of dominating entire
theaters of battle, but was outflanked by multiple infantry divisions and out of all but light ammunition. She could swat the bombers and missiles for now, but nothing more. Luckily, her neutronium alloy armour still held.

His treads, each wider than a city block, moved him slowly forward. Then, finally in range, he launched a spread of missiles, each one MIRV-ing into dozens of
tactical mini-nukes and slaughtering fleshbag soldiers by the thousands. Soon they would be reunited.

Posted by: Jeff R. at November 29, 2006 2:48 PM · Permalink