Stacy Archives

July 2, 2008

Stacy: Surely You Saw That Coming

“Bronsky?”

“What’s up?”

“Can’t find Bronsky. He was right over by that Sauromatum-type plant, and now he’s gone.”

“Of course he’s not gone, moron, we’re on the eighth moon of Venus. Just where the hell would he go?”

“I don’t know, dammit, but he was right there and now he’s not!”

“Calm down, Rogers, we’ll find him. He’s probably just off having a whiz.”

“You know, I’ve had it with this sloppy fucking operation. First we miss our landing area, then we lose comms, and now this… Are you listening to me?”

“That smell… Vanilla? Cookies!”

“Wait, don’t…”

GULP

“Fuck.”

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March 9, 2009

Stacy: It's a Spurkey!

He etched the necessary symbols into the delicate egg shell, taking care to avoid breaching the membrane. Life, growth, strength and health symbols were added to the four cardinal points, stability to the bottom, and future to the top. What good was a new species if it could not propagate itself?

He added the egg to an urn filled with water from the Spring, then dropped in a turkey feather and several spiders. The contents would steep for nine days, the essential humors of the ingredients working their way into the egg. After incubation and hatching, turkey legs for everyone!

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March 10, 2009

Stacy: All You Can Eat Buffet

“Younglings, these are called hu-mans.”

Comnard Vertnor extended a tentacle towards the viewscreen currently displaying a feed from the My-Ami Beech monitoring station. The younglings waved their eyestalks curiously. These hu-mans were varying shades of brown and red, dotted here and there with brightly colored pieces of Clo Thing.

The Comnard continued, “See how the light from the system primary colors their skins? This is known as ‘caramelization.’ This results in a much finer flavor, and a more crunchy texture in the aged ones.”

The younglings twittered in anticipation. Meal Preparation Class field trips that included lunch were most salutary.

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March 12, 2009

Stacy: Consequences

We circled each other warily. I was infuriated Raphael had dared set foot in my uchi, my home. His very presence was a desecration and this time he would pay with his heart’s blood.

He drew his cursed daito and I reflected my grand plan might succeed somewhat better had I any weapon more sturdy than a bamboo rake. But it would do for now.

I kicked the rake head off the staff and slashed lightning fast. He barely parried with the sword and I saw surprise light up his eyes. Yes, kisama, I can kill you with a stick.

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March 13, 2009

Stacy: It's All Relative

James literally could do no wrong. He breezed through school, finished college in four years with double docs in physics and engineering. He had a rewarding and hugely profitable career in private industry and was married to a beautiful woman who did not make him crazy. His kids were bright, cute and respectful.

James was bored out of his mind. That’s when Future Fixers Inc. appeared on his doorstep.

Now James has a new career, helping design and develop the highly complex apparatus FF Inc. uses in their temporal activities. The replacement dad for his ex-family was a big hit.

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March 16, 2009

Stacy: I Really Hate Puns

Rob loved to read science fiction. His favorite author had been dead for years, so it was with immense excitement he read of the discovery of a lost manuscript. It was being released at the bookstore today, so Rob hurried over to join the throng.

The bookstore was jam-packed, but Rob found a copy and ran for the front of the store. Unfortunately, his foot caught on a bit of carpet and he crashed headlong into the back of the check-out queue, sending kids and little old ladies flying.

In his haste to reach the cashier, Rob hurt hind line.

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March 17, 2009

Stacy: Cutting Ties

I reached under my arm and tripped the override switch – the one the Company didn’t know I had – and shunted the riders into my backup net. The sensory deprivation might kill them but I didn’t care. This was the last straw, the final indignity. I was done.

I instructed the female to leave. She did so without comment, drugged for sure.

I knelt beside the bed, knife still in hand. The Company would have alarmed by now, a retrieval team would be en route. I was a dead Jack unless... I stabbed the knife deep into the wall power port.

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March 18, 2009

Stacy: Legend of an Outlaw

Digging through saddlebags for a spare clip, a single goddamned bullet, ANYTHING to deal with this bastard when he finally made it past the flimsy lock.

No ammo at all. Shit.

How did Mama’s little girl Patience get into messes like these anyway?

Oh yeah… that guy in Rooster Gulch. And the other one in Tombstone. Probably the one in Silverland, as well.

Freaking double standards. I had just as much right as they did…

The cheap lock finally gave way and three men piled into the dingy room. I pulled twin stilettos from my sleeves and grinned.

“Let’s dance.”

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March 19, 2009

Stacy: New in Town

“Why, no ma’am, I was unaware there was a registration requirement.”

The woman gaped at me in surprise.

“But of course, dearie. Whores must register here in Harshaw just as anywhere else.”

“I’m not a whore,” I sighed wearily. “I’m a privateer, here on some business.”

She eyed me up and down skeptically - so what, I like pretty things - finally relenting when I showed her my SP license.

“I spose you’re here for Doc, eh?” she cackled. “Good luck with that one, dearie. You better shoot him before he has the chance to get those pretty pants off!”

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March 24, 2009

Stacy: In the Character Lounge

“What’s she doing,” asked Patience.

“Procrastinating,” answered the Jack impatiently.

Uzi shushed him.

“Quiet, you. In such a hurry to return to the scene of the crime, are you?”

The Jack glared, Uzi glared back.

Cori snorted, most unladylike.

“You all complain, but every last one of you is kind of in a tight spot right now. Just enjoy the calm while it lasts.”

A chorus of jeers greeted this suggestion.

Comnard Vertnor beeped irritably, tentacles curling.

“You Hu-mans, so noisy! I should eliminate you all.”

Vertnor turned puce as Patience drew her pistol, cocked it meaningfully.

“Patience,” she said.

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