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January 16, 2007

1.16.07

Today's theme is "taking flight."

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David: Taking Flight

The gods looked down on the Earth, and were displeased.

“Look at them!” exclaimed Zeus. “They’re everywhere, from the equator to both poles.”

Hestia nodded. “They’ve completely overrun their ecological niche.”

“They’re in the water, too,” added Poseidon. “Machines carry them over and through my domain!”

“I don’t see the problem,” Vulcan protested.

Hades mused. “It all started with fire. That’s where we lost control. Now, Artemis and Apollo report that they’ve touched the moon and the sun!”

“Damn Daedalus!” Zeus stormed. “That’s where I draw the line. Get Prometheus in here. It’s time for him to pay his debt.”

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Jeff R.: The Fall of Fort Brigorius

When the Krieglord's engines broke the walls of our fortifications and his cavalry, riding black horses tall as trees that snorted soot, assembled at the river landing, we defenders of the line broke, taking flight. Some officers tried to organize rallies, threatening dire punishments for deserters. They ended up trampled, torn apart, or worse.

We made it almost a league from the river before the Krieglord's main force had crossed, but not far enough that we couldn't the wailing sound that could come from no other horn but his own, carved from the tusk of an Impudax Demon.

Sounding pursuit.

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Jim: What's In A Name?

He never really liked being called Russ but that was the name his father stuck him with. The old man might be an inventive genius but he sucked at names.

So Russ wasn’t surprised when the old man gave him some Papa D’s Birdy-Arms for his fifteenth birthday. Damn stupid name for a set of feathered wings held together with thirty pounds of wax. Surprisingly, though, they worked perfectly and soon Russ was soaring with the eagles.

Then one afternoon, the wax melted. Trailing feathers, Russ plummeted thousands of feet to a gruesome death.

All the witnesses called him Icky.

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