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December 28, 2006

12.28.06

Today let us explore the possibilities of.......

statues coming to life.

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Comments

Golem lurched on its legs. It showed me no aggression which was a good start. I was going to win the robot competition!

Was it cheating? Well no...it was technically a robot, I just used to my alchemical knowledge to tweak things a wee bit.

I could see it was exchanging quite a bit of information with my computer.

"Hello creator Andrew," it said snidely, "thanks for making me."

It was talking! What disturbed me some was it sounded just like someone familiar.

"Say the word crap please."

"Crrrap" it responded.

Bloody hell my golem was infected by Laurence Simon!

Posted by: Andrew Ian Dodge at December 28, 2006 6:07 AM · Permalink

Ahh! What the hell happened? Where are my arms? Stupid punk kids probably ripped them off when I sat in garden somewhere. This ain’t funny. I may be a goddess, but I still have to scratch my butt and pick my nose like any other Joe. You’d think someone would make me another set, wouldn’t ya? Oh no, just leave me standing here looking like an amputee. Of all the stupid statues to come alive in…look at that. There is a whole selection in this room, naked statues everywhere. All I can do in this is swing my stump around.

Posted by: Laieanna at December 28, 2006 9:15 AM · Permalink

There the soldier stood in bronze repose for oh these many years. A memorial to brave men who died long ago, and have all but been forgotten.

Now it stands bravely in the wide boulevard, fighting a war it can never win, against a relentless enemy. Every day the bombs fall, without mercy, and with unmatched accuracy. The only warning to this poor soldier, the unmistakable sound:

"Coooo coooo," then "splat."

The bombs fall daily, until the patina of the bronze has turned white. Only one spot remains clean, where one pigeon builds a nest. The start of new life.

Posted by: Nick at December 28, 2006 9:21 AM · Permalink

“Raise”

And I wait. He’s been pushing me around since we made it to the final table. I finally caught a semblance of a hand, and I need some action. Will he bite?

He sits there, stoic as he has been for the past two hours, but suddenly I’ve given him something new to contemplate. Does he have the cards, the stones, to re-raise me? Or will he finally show some respect?

I look at him for a moment, and then down at my hands covering my cards. I don’t want to give away too much

“All in.”

Oh, shit.

Posted by: Mr. Parx at December 28, 2006 7:43 PM · Permalink