The Evolution Revolution

Archive for the month “May, 2012”

Beat of the Universe: Tale of a Boy

The Beat of the Universe: A Tale of a Boy

By Thedude3445

            It was Victorian Britain. A time of unrest and civil disobedience run rampant. A time where exposition was held high, and the details of the antecedent actions of this short story were explained. Really, it’s just Victorian Britain, but it’s also a dystopia. Is it that hard to understand? No. You got it? Okay. Follow along with me as I tell you this idiotic story.

There was a young farm boy. He lived on a farm, you see? He farmed many things, from animals to plants to fungi to protozoa to bacteria to archaebacteria. It seemed that he was a farmer of many things. This would later come into play in the story. Or it will come into play later in the story, I should say. Write this down. It’s important. No seriously. Get a pen out or something, and write it down. No, I don’t care where; just do it!

Anyway, he was walking along his farm one day, and he stumbled upon a rocket pod. Even though this is Victorian Britain, I guess the rocket pod came from the past or something. Okay, so it’s a far future rocket pod. Good? Good. So he opens it up, and finds an encrypted data feed that has a network of information from this vague future! What could he use this for? He could win bets, for one thing, but that’s pretty clichéd.

What he wanted to use it for was to look up records to find out who he would marry. For, you see, he wasn’t the sharpest young lad out there, and as such, he was not sublimely skilled in the aspects of courtship and speaking to the girls whose affection he desired. My main audience can probably relate. Just kidding! Really, stop taking offense. I’m serious, it was just a joke. Fine, be that way.

I will simply say that he was quite insecure with his prospects with the fairer sex. Quite a few rejections had left him cynical and nearly hopeless, until this data feed came into play! It had a vast cache of knowledge yet to happen, including his family tree for hundreds of years to come. Who was the lucky woman that would join him in marriage?

A girl by the name of… Margaret Roberts? Who? He continued to plunder through this sick loot he had discovered, and searched through a quite thorough database for who this young lass might turn out to be, and where she may be now.

The results were shocking; he would have to make some major adjustments to his lifestyle if he were to marry this woman. Fortunately for him, she didn’t much care for external factors, or else he would have been instantly ruled out. He wasn’t the most shining chap out there, if you get my gist. His most insurmountable problem would be how to reach her at all!

In a serious bout of Deus ex Machina, the recovered pod was able to teleport him to exactly the location he most desired. If this wasn’t as short a story, and I was writing for any sort of quality whatsoever, I probably would have included a more in-depth research on his destination, and some philosophical debate of the ethics of this pod and if any one person should ever be able to learn of the future. As a matter of fact, I probably should have done that, seeing as this story is going to be just shy of two pages by the time it is finished, which’ll be in not but two or three paragraphs; don’t worry your sorry little hide about having to trudge through such a horrid work of fiction. Anyway, he stepped on the warp pad on the pod, and off he went.

It was now 1951. It was still Britain, however. He looked up, shocked by the massive changes in culture in the near-century gap since his departure, but shocked just the same by the beautiful woman standing in front of him. She was obviously completely overcome with attraction for him, and this bolstered his spirits right off the bat.

“Why, hello there,” she greeted him. “Name’s Margaret. Yours?”


This was going to be an interesting marriage.

The… end?

You see….

I was trekkin’ along pretty nicely with these short stories, with the fourth and fifth partly done and the six and seventh ready to go right afterwards, but then I started a collab story with fellow MSPA IRC member WhiteKnight. This took several hours, and now we are invested in this all-new story that is much longer than originally expected. That will come out in a few days. But as for the rest of these stories that I have not finished, I will do so as quickly as I can. But the marathon was lame and failed because collab stories are just too good. So lesson: When you are trying for quantity over quality, don’t collab.

Luckily (or not) for you, you are still getting the same number of stories that you would have gotten, just at a later date than before.

Dead Trees

Dead Trees

By Thedude3445

As you lay, dying on the field of battle, you wonder. You begin to ponder the questions of life as you bleed out, soldiers stepping over you as they rush towards the enemy combatants. What is life, even, if it can be so easily thrown away in a pointless battle?

You must survive. There has to be a way. You want to shout to the others that you are not yet dead, that they can still rescue you. There was a medical station somewhere nearby, if your memory serves you correctly; if it is still there, there is still hope for you. But you cannot muster the strength to shout. Your neck is bleeding too heavily.

You turn your head to look at your hand. It was severed. You cannot even remember how that happened. What luck you have. It pains you to do so, but you look around. Amidst all the explosions and chaos, you still do not see any other fallen troops that have joined you on this painful track to oblivion. You are the only one of your kind. A snowflake of death.

Why were you the only one to die in this battle? You hear the screams and shouts. They were brought into this world to die just like you were taken out; why only you? There had to be some sort of reason. Maybe you were to be an example for the rest of the army, and these other soldiers were actually running away from the enemy. You can not actually tell whether they were fighting or not. It is too dim to tell. If you could only remember how you were shot, it would be so much easier to figure out… And yet, your memory continues to fail you. Your frustration grows.

You can see the rotting carcasses of what were once mighty trees off in the distance, casualties of the battle, just like you. Were you to be cast aside just as pointlessly as these plants? It seemed so. You should have never joined the army; it was a useless decision that led to naught but your own end, and you knew it would be just like this from the start. What other purpose is there for a soldier than to die?

If there was a God, he would have saved you by now. Everything would have been okay. But it is not. You are about to die, and there is no way out of it. Completely useless. You prayed every single day, morning and night, and what do you get for it? Nothing. Damn Him. Damn that God to Hell.

Why could he not just save you? Just pick you up and put you in the medical station. It would be so easy. You would do anything! Please! You shout with an intensity that is unrivaled, but it is all within your own mind. That is the only place left for you.

It was hopeless after all to even think about being saved. As meaningless as those trees. The stumps where they used to be seemingly laugh at you. They already felt the cold embrace of death, and jeer at you for your struggle to live. They cannot wait for you to experience what they already have, and giggle in their immense pleasure.

What right have they to be in such joy over your death? You did not rejoice when you were forced to burn them down to a crisp I preparation of the battle. It almost pained you to do it. But when you are on the verge of your end, they are on the verge of tears in their laughter. You hate them.

But you find solace in them, as well. Comfort that you have someone to relate to. They know the feel of death; it is something that normal people could never understand, until it has finally occurred to them. You want to join these trees; for the rest of the world is silent in regards to you. Even if they accept you with a mocking tone, at least they do so. At least they acknowledge your existence.

You die.

The Metapolis: Part One

Part of the Short Story Writing Adventure! (please remember that this does not accurately reflect on my writing skills I am just trying to write fast :P)

Metapolis: Part 1

By Thedude3445

            This was America, and it was an America of fantasy. Long before the European Settlers arrived on the continent, there was magic. There was technology. There was civilization. It all collapsed thousands of years ago, and the ruins of the society were all but nonexistent… until now. Documents that explicitly analyzed the events of old have come up, and we have discovered a plethora of new information about the ancestors of the American Indians.

The most interesting of these stories is that of a young man named Bob Richton. Several pieces that we have uncovered chronicle the life of this interesting person, and it is a very peculiar one. We had our experts arrange the documents pertaining him into a cohesive series of prose to promote the study of this man’s journey in this pre-Columbian America.


Walking out of the university, Bob Richton looked out on the landscape of America. A metropolis of magic is what he saw. Manaether, the energy that flowed around all people of the continent, was so powerful that it could be harvested and implemented into Magitech. Because of this, Americans were able to become the most technologically advanced peoples in the entire world. They developed the first Manaether energy bomb before the rest of the world could wield iron tools. But they would not interfere with them. It was a solemn vow that all Americans had to take to avoid all contact with the outside world. This promise was only broken a few times that Richton knew of; the Great Pyramids first came to mind, and so did the Celtic Druids, but all others were mostly insignificant.

Richton knew that eventually, these peoples would gain the technological know-how to be able to travel to America. He could not estimate how long it would take, but when they did, he feared his kind would be unable to cope with the change and war would break out. He doubted the outside world would ever discover Manaether, but if they did, it would change everything.

That is what Richton studied about in college. He was a student of Magiphysics, but his true passion was speculative futurism. That is why he was leaving to go to the store to buy Manamaterials to write fan fiction about the outside world and the adventures he thought they would have. Their lives, made so simple by the lack of Manaether, captivated him, and drew him to the Etherpen every night to write stories upon stories. He never published these, but one day he would. One day he would.

One day, he bumped into an old man. He was obviously slightly demented, as he looked around like he could not tell that the person who bumped into him was directly in front of him. Richton gazed oddly, until the old man spoke.

“Son, you need to help me. I have lost my glasses, and I need you to help me find the key to the Vault of Anesthesia. It is very important to your safety that you do this.” This is what the old man said.

Richton could not speak, for a bunch of warbots burst out of the wall and shot the old man down. They began pursuing Richton as well. He was an able-bodied runner, but the warbots were powered by Manaether, and were extremely fast. The only choice he had was to conjure up some manaether strength to blast them into oblivion. Which he did.

What really mattered to Richton now was figuring out why these warbots attacked the old man and then him. So he went to the police office department to file a report. They seemed oddly anxious about him being in there while he was filling out the etherpaperwork, and it set him on edge. Suddenly, the police officers pulled out their magiweapons and began attacking  him. Richton threw his etherpen and killed one of them, but there were still three that were firing away. He grabbed a magiweapon off of the one officer’s dead body and blasted the remaining ones.

This was becoming a serious problem, with these people attacking him. It must have had something to do with the old man and the Vault of Anesthesia. Before he died, he said that he needed to find the key to unlock this vault so… That was what he was going to do.

Where would he look first? There was a key factory over on the north side of town, he remembered. So that is where he went. Except when he got there, it was completely destroyed! That is when he realized that the government was manipulating events. The government was evil and was trying to prevent him from fulfilling his mission. There was only one person he could trust.

He went to the metalsmith shop where Anna Shirley performed her daily job. They had a thing for many years, until it was revealed that she was the captain of the U.A.N. Ghostly Guise, a pirate airship powered by Manaether that pillaged across the entire Earth, not just America either. Their terror was known even to the outside world! That was, until Richton took town the airship with his militia of warbots. Their relationship was over, but the Earth was safe from pirates. They still kept a professional relationship in the years since, however.

“You want me to make a key that can open the Vault of Anesthesia?” She asked. Richton told her that this was true. So the two of them set off to the Vault itself, held in the capital city of America; Milwaukee!


This place was like Hell. Fire and Brimstone literally covered the area known as Wisconsin. Dragons were everywhere. This should have been the tip-off to Richton that the government was evil, but he figured that it was a strategic defense zone or something… Never mind that Milwaukee was located at the bottom of a valley or anything. ..

They found the Vault of Anesthesia. Anna got out her welding gear and began preparing the key while Richton kept guard in case any government officials began to attack them. They never did, however, and they entered the Vault with ease.

Something kept Richton on edge, however. It just felt unnatural for so little conflict to be happening at what should be the climax of their adventure. Something was bound to happen. The Vault was almost completely empty, except for an odd relic in the center, so he assumed this was a trap or something.

“It’s not a trap, goodness Richton!” said Anna suddenly. “You have been on edge ever since we entered! Do you even know what the Vault of Anesthesia holds?”

Richton told her that he did not know.

“This thing in the center, you see it?” She pointed to the relic. “It’s a portal.”

“To what?”


Richton gasped. Atlantis?! That was the ancient civilization that had all but disappeared by the time theirs had begun; it was so far advanced that it was assumed they travelled off into space before sinking their own continent, which had previously connected Africa and America. If the continent still existed somehow, it could change everything about the way the worlds’ civilization progressed.

“It exists,” she told Richton. “But we, the government, cannot yet open it. That is why I summoned you.”

She pressed down on her wrist, transforming her into the crazed old man that he had seen before. Richton completely forgot that Anna was a member of the Fuchsia tribe, peoples who were able to shapeshift with their manaether abilities.

But he was curious about one thing. “Why me?”

“You have manaether powers beyond the possibilities of any other in America. You have the key that can unlock the universe.”

“But you have the key, remember?”

“Not this key.” Anna tossed the key she made to open the Vault. “The key is inside you.”

And with that, he cast a magispell upon the relic. Not one that he already knew, but an instinctual one. It opened up a pinkish vortex of swirling manaether; the portal to Atlantis. They stepped in.


Waiting For the Mow

First Short Story Writing Adventure story!

Waiting For the Mow

By Thedude3445

No I have not actually read Waiting For Godot, as you can tell.

Setting: A bench on a sidewalk in front of a man’s house, with comically tall grass on the lawn behind him.

Ethan is sitting on the bench, staring off into the distance. His neighbor, Ralph, walks up to him.

Ralph: Hey, Ethan, I haven’t seen you in a while!

Ethan: I know. I’ve been inside for the last couple of weeks with a really bad case of the flu. It was terrible.

Ralph: The flu? What’s that?

Ethan: Oh no, it seems that I have been sent off to an alternate universe while I was sick at home! A universe where the flu never existed and where Martians will be able to invade the Earth and not be killed off by germs!

Ralph: I was just kidding.

Ethan: Oh.


Ralph:  So what brings you to the outside world today, Ethan?

Ethan: Well, I called a lawn service to trim my lawn every Tuesday while I was sick, but they never showed up!

Ralph: So basically you just got ripped off?

Ethan: That’s the odd part. I never even paid them. They weren’t going to accept payment until after the job was done.

Ralph: So what does it really matter that they didn’t come?

Ethan: Umm…

Ethan turns his head and looks at the lawn. Ralph turns in response and freaks at seeing the several feet-tall grass.

Ralph: How long were you sick, again?

Ethan:  A while.


Ethan: I really need the lawn guys to come, because I have no way to cut grass this tall!

Ralph: You could just like burn it or something.

Ethan: And then the rest of the neighborhood.

Ralph: Good point. But maybe a lawn this out-of-shape has its benefits.

Ethan: Like what?

Ralph: Well, you could finally make that live-action Pikmin adaptation that you’ve always wanted.

Ethan: You’re right. I could!

Ralph: See, a little optimism goes a long way!

Ethan: But the lawn guys are probably coming right now, oh no.

Ralph: Just call them off before they get here. It’s pretty early; they might not have even left yet.

Ethan: Ok.

Ethan grabs a cell phone out of his jacket pocket and calls the lawn service. There is no response.

Ethan: They didn’t answer.

Ralph: Call again. They will probably answer.

Ethan calls again. Still no answer.

Ethan: Where are they?

Ralph: Probably on their way. You’ll have to tell them in person.

Ethan: But they’ll charge me a fee!

Ralph: It’s either that, or say goodbye to your Bulborb Dreams.

Ethan: The fee is acceptable…

Ralph: Good. Now let’s wait for them to come.

Silence for a few moments. They look around the neighborhood and at each other at times, until they get bored.

Ethan: When are they going to get here…

Ralph: It’s only been a couple minutes since I even came over here. Be patient!

Ethan: Well, you are not helping pass the time whatsoever, Silent Sam!

Ralph: My name is Ralph.

Ethan: Is it? I didn’t actually know what it was.

Ralph: We’ve been neighbors for seven years, Ethan…

Ethan: Sorry, I’ve been sick!

Ralph: How many neighbors do you even know?

Ethan: I know Maximilian… He’s cool.

Ralph: There is no one in this neighborhood named Maximilian.

Ethan: I know… That plan wasn’t going to work anyway. Even if there was, you would have asked me questions about him, and I would not have known what to say.

Ralph: Then why did you try it in the first place, Ethan? It was a dirty trick.

Ethan: I’m sorry… You’re right.

Ethan begins to sob. Ralph hugs him.

Ralph: There there, it’s okay.

Ethan: I just want some friends…

Ralph: I’ll be your friend.

Ethan: My best friend?

Ralph: No.

Ethan: It was worth a shot.

Ralph: That it was.

They cease the embrace.

Ethan: You are right though, I am very impatient. I probably should have waited for the phone to ring more than twice when I called the lawn people.

Ralph: You mean you never actually called the lawn people.

Ethan: No… I was impatient!


Ralph: So they are not actually coming?!

Ethan: Oh yes, they are. They called me back the next day when they noticed the missed call. I’m impatient; not stupid!

Ralph: Okay, okay. Good. This is not all just a waste of time, then.

Ethan: And if it is?

Ralph: I dunno. Then this will be a boring waste of time?

Ethan: That’s all?

Ralph: Yeah, did you think I would freak out and do something drastic if this turned out to be a waste of time?

Ethan: Kinda…?

Ralph: Like what?

Ethan: Like… I’m not really sure. I just did. It’s more dramatic that way.

Ralph: Hmm…

Ralph ponders for a moment, in deep thought.

Ethan: What?

Ralph: Fine. If this turns out to be a waste of time… I will get an axe out and chase you around the neighborhood. All right?

Ethan: Sounds cool.

Ralph: Good.

They wait once again. Neither speaks.

Ralph: So, why are you so obsessed with Pikmin, anyway?

Ethan: Well my dad Wert was a pretty big fan when he was younger.

Ralph: So you are following in your dad’s footsteps? That’s cool.

Ethan: Yeah. It is.

Ralph: I kind of liked Pikmin back in the day. Pikmin 8: The Return of Olimar was my favorite.

Ethan: Really? The MMO aspects were good, but I didn’t think the main story was as good, at least in that one.

Ralph: Well I was never a big single player girl when I was a kid. Now that I’m a grown man, I probably would like it more. I get all the social activity I want with my kids and their friends’ parents.

Ethan: My dad never let me go outside when I was a kid, so I didn’t really socialize that much.

Ralph: Why not?

Ethan: I’m not really sure why. I was sick for one, but more likely it was because of my other dad, Andrew. Wert never wanted me to meet him for reasons I have never fully explored.

Ralph: That is simply the mystery of parents.

Ethan: Yep.

Another moment of silence.

Ethan: So… I don’t think they’re coming.

Ralph: Probably not.

Ethan: Wanna go inside and watch the game?

Ralph: It’d be more exciting than waiting for some mowing service that will never come.

Ethan: If they show up and mow my lawn… Too bad I guess. But I really don’t want to wait any longer. It’s kind of boring.

Ralph: So true.

They go inside Ethan’s house.


A moment after the curtains close.

Ethan: Hey! Watch where you swing that axe!

Short Story Writing Adventure Update

Tomorrow will be the Short Story Writing Adventure Marathon Day, where I write as many short stories as I can in a 24-hour period. I will post the stories here when I finish.

Magnificent Star Wars: Chapters 1-3

I can’t believe I never posted this story to this site! the first 3 chapters (really all I wrote) of this fan fiction are here. I need to finish this; I probably will soon.

[20th Century Fox theme and logo]
[Lucasfilm logo]
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away…
[The starry sky appears in the background, but the opening crawl never begins.]
[Suddenly, we shift to a man sitting in a comfortable chair in a dark room.]
[This is SIO BIBBLE, a mysterious old man, an esteemed historian for the GALACTIC ALLIANCE. He is of no relation to the man of the same name from Naboo, of course. But he is no ordinary historian; he studies the 5th dimension; alternate universes, where even one decision can radically change the entire fate of the Galaxy.]
SIO BIBBLE: Our Galaxy’s foundation dates back tens of thousands of years, when our alien oppressors died off, and we gained the abilities of hyperspace travel. It allowed us to traverse the stars at speeds much faster than light so the many forms of sentient life could mingle among the galaxy. But imagine a land where the oppressors’ technology was never inherited, because they never existed. Imagine if hyperspace technology was not available until each species developed it on its own. What would such a galaxy be like? I have uncovered a universe like what I have described, and it is magnificent. According to it, life in our galaxy would be something like this…
A Star Destroyer passed overhead. It was not a combat vessel- merely a starfighter carrier, but a sight to behold nonetheless, for the Alderaanians at least. Any sign of troops returning home to the colonies was a grand one; it meant loved ones coming back, and it could have meant that the war between the Humans and the Duros was dying down, in which case peace could finally return to humanity. Bail watched out the window as his citizens gathered and cheered at the cruiser, which was beginning to land near the parade of people and probably about to launch its stunt ships. He secretly hoped that all troops were returning to their homes, no matter the reason– even retreat– but it was a far-fetched idea, as President Valorum and the United States {The global government of Coruscant, much like the Galactic Alliance is to our galaxy, except just over humanity. –Ed. Bibble} leaders seemed to have no intention of ending this war until they took every single planet that the Duros held. But everyone could dream…
All went silent as a shockwave ripped through the city and obliterated all in its path. The mayor of Alderaan fell to the ground, and could only gaze at the spinning floor, a sharp ringing noise piercing his ears. Moments passed, but they felt like hours to him. The air grew more and more noxious, and all Bail could do was close his eyes and pass…. out…
>>>HOLONET NEWS NETWORK- COLONIAL EDITION- Reporting Live at Alderaan’s capital city, Skywalker Ranch, on November 2nd, 361, at 7:07 AM. This is Aayla Secura, field reporter for CHNN. Just twelve hours ago, Mandalorian Terrorists set off a Star Destroyer ((Carrier Class- Model Year 357, ID #4131025612)) that was filled to the brim with thousands of explosive proton bombs right in the middle of the city. As you can see from behind me, the damage is severe; not a single building is left standing, not even the City Hall. Mayor Antilles’s status is unconfirmed, but he is thought to have been killed, as several unidentified bodies have been retrieved from the City Hall. A list of confirmed dead and injured is on the main page. ((LINK)) Nothing is certain yet, but more details of this disaster will be unveiled as time goes on. Ciao.
Now Bail Antilles was awake, safely hidden in his underground bunker. He sighed as he viewed images of the city-wide carnage, feeling beyond hopeless. These pirates called Mandalorians had been attacking the Northern colonies for years now, and had even established their own faux-government, but Alderaan was a Central Colony; one of Humanity’s 13 most important planets! The United Coruscanti government {the main Superpower state on Coruscant; a mega-sized confederation that had twice as many settlements on alien worlds than all other nations combined. –Ed. Bibble} could never stand for this! But they would, Bail had a feeling.
The Human-Duros War had been fiercely fought for what seemed like an eternity; about half a century. It started in 313, and would probably continue for many more. The United Coruscanti Militia would not devote any large number of troops to anything other than the war effort, and the Mandalorian Pirates took advantage of that. Now the Middle Colonies were feeling the effects of the long drawn-out conflict, and it could easily reach Coruscant itself in a decade or less.
“Sir?” Aide Helix asked. “Mayor Antilles. According to the news broadcasts, the entire populous believes… Well, that you’re dead. Sir. Umm, if it’s alright with you, I would very much like to announce that the reports of your deaths were, umm, greatly exaggerated. Then, uh, we could probably get straight to the rebuilding process, so that this crisis-“
“No,” The Alderaanian mayor interrupted. “From now on, I AM dead.”
Helix was obviously baffled and distraught by this declaration, and took several moments before he was able to stutter out, “B-But… Sir! I… What? Uh… Sir… I… I… I will not assist you in any suicidal halluc-“
Once again, Bail interrupted, saying, “No, I need to be considered dead for what I am about to do.”
The Aide reluctantly asked the all-important question: “Umm… If… I…. Uh… Dare I ask…? But… What, uh, what are you about to… do?” There was no reply. Silence filled the bunker. Finally, Bail spoke.
“I’m going to gather an army,” he replied. “and we’re going to destroy the Mandalorians, once and for all.”

In the days following the Mandalorian pirates’ attack on Alderaan, former mayor Bail Antilles left for Ord Cantrell, a southern colony deep in the Outer Rim Territories, adopting a pseudonym of a John Shepard, an out-of-luck mercenary. While it was unknown why he travelled there at the time, as this was a desolate ghost planet, {The planet used to be a rich resort planet due to a gold rush, but once the mines ran dry around 304, most everyone absconded away to other Ord planets in hopes of striking it rich. –Ed. Bibble} the reason soon became obvious.

Bail stepped into the bar. It was a mix of several species; Humans, Duros, and Twi’leks alike; even a long-necked grey alien that he couldn’t recognize. Quite the place. Was this the future, Bail wondered? A galaxy where all species would mix together? A future like that sounded far too distant for him to think about for more than a moment. Besides, he was on a mission.
Sitting at the table was a mid-sized, balding man that was alone with half a dozen glasses of blue tequila. {Captain Picard certainly bears some resemblance to this mysterious man. Though that man is in a completely different universe from ours, so many of you will not get my joke… Carrying on… -Ed. Bibble} Bail instantly recognized him and sat down in a chair across from him.
“Name’s John Shepard.” Said Bail.
“Yeah, really?”
“Mhm. Just a Merc looking for good business.”
“Yeah, really. Huh.”
“What are you doing out here in the Outer Rim?”
“Hmm. Yeah… Really? Really?”
The balding man pulled out his gun, the barrel up against Bail’s right temple. Responding with amazing reflexes, Bail smacked the gun out of his hand. Both of them threw punches at each other, and their hands collided with a glorious smack, causing both to recoil backwards. Spectators began forming a circle around the table where the two battled each other at lightning speeds.
After several seconds of straight punches, they disconnected and ceased their direct combat. While the bald man picked up a chair, Bail attempted a roundhouse kick to the gut. He missed, and twirled down onto the cold ground with a pathetic thud, without the need for throwing chairs or anything. Spectators became furious at the apparent anticlimax and immediately began dispersing.
“Huh, really,” Said the bald man. “Gettin’ rusty.” He held out a hand to Bail, and lifted him back up. “Guess being a mayor has softened ya up, wuss.”
“Well at least I don’t have an addiction to violence like you do,” replied Antilles, brushing the dust from the floor off of his clothes.
The bald man cocked a brow up. “What the hell kind of comeback was that?” he jokingly asked, sporting a wide grin.
“Give me a chance, c’mon!” Bail laughed and shook the bald man’s hand. “So Gasgano, what are you doing out here?”
Gasgano, the bald man, put his hand behind his head and rubbed his neck, saying, “Meh, just looking for a couple fights, ‘cuz life on Coruscant got hella boring real fast.. Guess you’re right about me, huh?”
Their happy reunion lasted a few moments more, but their smiles both quickly faded, and they got down to business. Gasgano looked into Bail’s eyes with a piercing gaze. He understood the circumstances of John Shepard’s visit very clearly.
“Why me?” He asked. Gasgano was never one for beating around the proverbial bush, especially not in times like these. “I don’t wanna be a part of this, and you know that. My merc days are long over.”
“This is not just a merc mission,” said Bail. “The entire United States could be at risk here, and you know that. I need a team to defeat these Mandalorians, Gasgano, and you’re the best.”
“I’m not the best anymore. I’m gettin’ old, just like you.”
“It’s not just your fighting skills I need, you know.”
“What else do I got? Not any charmin’ good looks, anymore.”
“I need your help forming this team; I have no idea where to look.”
“And I do?”
Some bar-goers that had been watching their previous duel had exited the bar during the fight to contact authorities. They would need to hurry up this conversation. Fast.
“Yeah. Otherwise you wouldn’t be out here searching already, before I even got here.”
“You know me too well, Bail.” Gasgano always went out of his way to
“It’s hard being a “roughneck” and being a nice person, right? It’s hard and nobody understands?”
“Anyway, yes I have found somebody, I was just waitin’ for ya to ask.”
“Who is it?”
“A woman named Shaak Ti. An amazing warrior. Heard she uses a sword instead of a gun.”
“A sword? Well, that’s interesting. She a Twi’lek?” {Twi’leks are a species of humans that adapted to have2 brain stems coming out from the back of their heads like a twintail haircut on a little girl. Some wrap their stems around their necks, though usually males are the only ones to do this. Besides that, they’re pretty much human. Of course we should all know this, because in our universe they are the most populous sentient species! –Ed. Bibble}
“Nah, she’s human. Well, technic’lly. She’s pretty much savage, goin’ around and killin’ anyone she doesn’t like. But she does it well.”
“Are… you sure about this?”
“Yeah, don’t worry, she only offs scum. Well mostly. But she’ll be a good teammate.” Gasgano paused. “…Prob’lly.” Bail had a very bad feeling about this, but he went along with his friend’s assumption that she would be a good addition to the team.
Gasgano continued. “Anyway, she’s near Bespin right now, at least from what I’ve been hearin’. We gotta leave quickly though, she never stays anywhere too long.”
Bail nodded his head in agreement, but noticed two or three policemen walking into the bar. One of them shouted at them, trying to get them to surrender without a fight. They completely misunderstood their friendly duel, but oh well… Hurtling a chair at the policemen, Gasgano made a run for it, with Bail quickly tagging behind. This was going to be quite an adventure, he could already tell that much.

>>>HOLONET NEWS NETWORK- COLONIAL EDITION- REPORT- November 5th, 361, at 12:46 PM: Former Mayor Bail Antilles ((Born April 13, 310 in Serbiie {one of the many states of the United Coruscanti. –Ed. Bibble})) has been confirmed to have been killed by the disaster on November 1st, by his aide, Helix Haust ((Born June 12, 325 on Alderaan)), who has now taken the mantle as the Mayor of Alderaan. In his press release, just 46 minutes ago, he stated that cleanup efforts were to begin immediately, and that any Mandalorians on the planet, pirates or not, are to be arrested on-sight, until this crisis is resolved. This comes as a shock to the thousands of Mandalorians that are living on Alderaan; they make up almost 12 percent of the population of this colony, and many believe that this declaration is bigotry, as they believe Mayor Haust is judging their entire race by just a few pirates. No word from the United States government on this action as of yet. We will update you as we get more details. Again, a list of confirmed dead and injured is on the main page. ((LINK)) Also, please donate to the Alderaan Disaster Relief fund ((LINK)). Just 100 credits can help a family in need that has been devastated by this event.
>>>HOLONET NEWS NEWTWORK-WAR NEWS- Reporting live from Naalol, November 5th, at 2:07 PM, this is Senior Executive Reporter Even Piell. The United States has just scored a decisive victory over the Duros, driving the 5th Fleet back into the Outer Rim! Because of this battle, Humanity has now gained 6 more systems, including the farm-planet Taanab; celebrations will take place in Tyson City {The capital city of the entire United Coruscanti} this evening at 7:00 PM; make sure to bring your pocketbook, because Main Street’s going to be HOT with surplus items tonight! A list of sales in Tyson City tonight can be found here. ((LINK)) This is Even Piell, signing off.
Hyperspace travel was always an annoyance to Bail; it made him nauseous and the initial blast of speed always gave him a headache. He loved how light speed travel was able to advance civilization by, well, light years, but would it have hurt anyone to at least attempt to make it work more smoothly? It has been around for what, like eighty years! Instead, scientists just try to make each new version go faster and faster by miniscule amounts, like being able to go between Coruscant and Ralltiir twenty seconds faster. That was good, but if Bail promised himself that he would not experience hyperspace sickness one more time after this whole ordeal. Not one.
“It’s a’right, Bail,” exclaimed Gasgano. “We’re only gonna be in hyperspace for a couple hours!”
“I know, I know,” Bail replied.
Gasgano shot back with a sharp “HA! No ya don’t! Ya’ve acted like this every single time we’ve ever gone inta hyperspace tagether!”
Yep, he was right. But still… His complaints were completely valid and he had no reason to have to feel like throwing up every time he blasted off!
The ship suddenly jutted out of hyperspace. Bail swore; they were caught in gravity well {n our universe, these are relatively modern devices; they keep a gravitational pull on anything within a certain radius so it becomes impossible to make the jump back into hyperspace, at least until the gravity well is destroyed or turned off. –Ed. Bibble} Surrounding them were several gigantic space vessels, each with the insignia of the Duros Navy. This was not good, not one little bit. These guys were the same ones defeated this morning, and they were probably looking for some hardcore revenge.
“Well, at least we’re in the right system,” Gasgano said. The only way he was able to keep from freaking out in tense situations as these was through optimism and through humor, usually the most deadpan kind. His eyes fretted around like a nervous Kowakian lizard monkey, analyzing for any gap or opening in the fleet’s alignment. {Luckily for them, Tractor beams are not commonplace in the Duros Navy, or at least not yet. Hehehe… -Ed. Bibble}
Bail looked too, and he saw one- just one. But it was directly in the line of fire of three of the twelve ships, and far too risky. Just crazy enough to work, he guessed. He told Gasgano about their one lucky shot.
“Gasgano,” Bail shouted. “Look, right over there. If you jet it out right now, you could probably make it!”
“Like hell I could” was the only reply he got from his bald bud. But he jetted it out anyway.
The ship burst into flames and was blasted into oblivion.

How will they get out of this one????? Who knows. I know, but you will not until I finish this darn thing.

An Excellent Host – A Pioneering Webcomic

Haha I reblogged something outside of tumblr! How neato.

by Kevin Czap

If you’re the kind of person who feels strongly about not having Homestuck spoiled for you, you might think twice about reading further. I’ll be addressing the most recent events of the comic, although probably not in any more detail than you’re sure to find surfing around on Tumblr. Either way, consider this a Spoiler Warning

Folks who’ve been following my opinions on comics are familiar with my feeling that Andrew Hussie is making some really clever, intelligent, daring and important work. His Problem Sleuth is one of myall time favorite comics for many reasons. Hussie’s current work in progress is the far more complex epic Homestuck. Aside from the top-notch comedy, engaging characters (maybe an understatement?) and labyrinthine plot, Homestuck has also given Hussie an excuse to pull off some really fascinating experiments in pushing the boundaries of what comics on the web are…

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The Rap-Off 2

It’s my second album; a 14-track rap album. And it is amazing in the worst ways possible. Listen to it, and download it, because there are 4 bonus tracks, including an alternate mix of the ever-popular “BOHEMIAN RAP-SODY” track.

Also: Features a song written by upcoming hit artist Wert_Ac, called “EMO SANTA”, performed and produced by me.


Stay chillin’, y’all.

Comic Reactions- Like A Bunch (Part Four- Less Recent Ones)

Avengers West Coast #69

Honestly, the only reason I bought this is because it has USAgent in it. But this comic is good; it covers a bunch of backstory, exposition, and character development, along with a cool fight scene all in about 20 pages. Comics today could not do that. Something about comic decompression has made it to where everything has to be fleshed out so slowly! That is not a particularly good thing all the time. For the fight scenes it is, but for the story… not always!

Excalibur: The Sword is Drawn

It’s a… one-issue TPB, I guess? Not sure, but I got it for just one dollar. It is an intro to the X-men team Excalibur. They all get together after some really creepy alien things attack them. It’s cool I guess. I just realized though that there are 3 girls and 2 guys; when does that ever happen in superhero teams? :0

Darkhawk #4

Darkhawk fights Savage Steel, some ruthless guy who thinks he is a villain for some reason! And he takes off his mask while transformed into Darkhawk for the first time. Apparently it is really scary and stuff. So lesson is… Don’t be Darkhawk.

Punisher #75

Dumb boring Punisher comic. shoot shoot shoot
Then there’s a backup story about a bar fight. punch punch punch
Then another backup story that has no purpose and terrible art. shoot shoot curb stomp heads shoot

Punisher: War Zone #1

Less shooty I guess. Punisher actually spares a guy and tortures him with a popsicle stick (though he makes the guy think it’s a blowtorch). The next issue is probably shoot shoot shoot though.

Amazing Spider-Man #365 (30th Anniversary Issue)

The cover is very reflective and probably cost Marvel a lot of money to produce! Why don’t they do that any more 😦 But in this issue: A bunch of stories. This comic was $4, back in the day when comics were normally $2.50! The main story is the Lizard finally being cured (also Peter Parker’s parents), but there’s also recap stuff for Spider-Man’s origin, Gwen Stacy, and the publication history of the series. There’s also a dumb Prowler backup story and a preview of Spider-Man 2099, which I shall prattle on about at a later date.

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