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Doctor Zero
Sep 21, 2002

Would you like a jelly baby?
It's been in my pocket through 4 regenerations,
but it's still good.

Flesnolk posted:

A reminder that this brawl is due end of day tomorrow. I'll say PST because that gives you guys the most time.

:hai:

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Doctor Zero
Sep 21, 2002

Would you like a jelly baby?
It's been in my pocket through 4 regenerations,
but it's still good.

Slip Up vs Doctor Zero

Write What You Know
1610 Words

A stray bullet twanged off the trunk of the pine tree Pentti was hunkered behind, sending wood splinters and ice spraying across his helmet and shoulders. He brushed the debris from his white coat with a gloved hand and blew out a billowing breath.

“Pfew, they’re getting closer,” he said and peered around through the falling snow, making note of where the rest of the squad was.

Jusso, back against a neighboring pine, sat with his rifle across his lap, his face craned up looking up the trunk. It ended abruptly in a shock of shards, the top having been blown off by a shell. The snow fell like stars around them.

“I think I’ll write a story,” Jusso said, possibly to himself.

“What, right now?” Pentti asked.

“No, after this is over.” Jusso looked over at Pentti who stared blankly back at him. “Last night, you asked what I was going to do when we got home.”

Shots rang out to their right, and shouts echoed through the trees.

“I have never written anything, though,” Jusso said, shifting to get a better look. “I don’t know much about story telling. I have no idea even how to start.”

Nodding his head Pentti said, “That’s the easy part. It’s best to start in medias res.”

“In … what now?”

Movement grabbed their attention, both men instantly on their feet. Jusso and Pentti trained their rifles on a figure running crouched toward them from cover. They relaxed at the sight of the white coat and hood. The squamate, Atto (they could see now) slid up next to Pentti. He puffed through his long, droopy mustache.

“Get ready. The Russians are making a push from the south.” He frowned. “We have orders to fall back. Where’s Tuomas?”

Pentti pointed out a large fir to the north. Atto nodded and scuttled off. Penti turned back to Jusso, his rifle now held alert.

“In Medias Res. It’s Latin. It means ‘in the middle of things’. Why decide to write if you never have before?

“I’ve always wanted to, but I was pulled out of school to work on papa’s farm. I never learned.”

“You never learned to write?”

Jusso threw a clump of snow which hit Pentti in the chest. “I know how to write, mulkku, I just never learned how to write a good story - like with foreshadowing and all that.”

Pentti pulled a flask out, took a sip, then tossed it to Jusso.

“Don’t worry about foreshadowing if you don’t even know how to start. What will you write about?”

“I don’t know that either,” Jusso said, and took a drink. He capped the flask and tossed it to Pentti who tucked away in in an inner pocket. “I just feel the need to tell stories and I don’t know how. I was imagining something about an affair between a beautiful young woman and a military officer in St. Petersburg. My family farm isn’t too far from there. I know the area well.”

“It’s been done.” Pentti said. “And it’s Leningrad now.”

“It will always be St. Petersburg.” Jusso spat.

Pantti waved him quiet. The frigid air was silent. Jusso could actually hear the falling snow hit the ground.

Raising his weapon, Pentti said, “Time to go.”

Then hell broke loose.

Gunshots erupted, hissing though brush, making geysers in the dirt and snow around them. Pentti retuned fire, as Jusso dashed past. Once Jusso had taken position at a rearward tree, he covered Pentti as he fell back behind a large rock to Jusso’s left.

“What comes after the start? After In Medias Res?” Jusso asked.

“Rising action.” Pentti fired off another couple of shots. “Go!”

Jusso ran and dove into a large juniper. He saw his squad - just white shapes from here - falling back, firing off shots. The terrain sloped upward to the north and the brush thinned, although the trees were larger and more rocks dotted the slopes, jutting up out of the snow. Getting through some of those drifts would be a slog.

Pentti crashed into the bush beside him, out of breath.

“You’re going to need a plot,” he panted. “It’s best to write what you know. You should write about something that happened to you.”

Peering through the thick branches, Jusso said. “I haven’t done anything exciting.” The smell of crushed berries and broken branches were pungent in his nostrils, mixing with the smell of cold, damp uniforms and sweat.

“There’s got to be something interesting.” Pentti said.

“I could write about what it was like to ride with my father in the wagon into St. Petersburg…”

Pentti opened his mouth, and the shut it again after a glaring look from Jusso.

A fan of bullets cut through the juniper branches above them and they shoved their faces into the snow. The shots weren’t repeated, so they crawled on all fours into the open and then ran up the slope, plowing through drifts.

Ducking behind a boulder they found someone already behind it. Tuomas raised his rifle, but then lowered it again quickly.

“Atto says we pull back to the top of the hill,” Tuomas whispered. “Something’s going on.”

Pentti nodded.

A shout echoed out, “Medic!”

Tuomas sighed, gathered his gear up and ran off as Pentti and Jusso gave covering fire. After he was safely away, they ducked back.

“You need a conflict. Have you ever been in a fight?” Pentti asked.

“Once. When I caught my girl with the oldest Heikkinen boy.” Jusso answered.

“That’s not bad, what happened?”

“He beat me so bad I couldn’t walk for days.”

“You really need to come up with better situations.”

“You don’t think I know that?”

More cries from nearby, but these were downhill. The Russians were getting closer.

“Well if you can’t think of any real experiences, you need to make something up.” Pentti peeked over the edge of the rock. Dark shapes loped from tree to tree twenty yards away.

“Let’s go!”

They ran again, twisting around firing discouraging shots, plowing through drifts of snow that reached up to their waist, and ducking from tree to tree. The snow was falling heavy now, in thick wet clumps of flakes. The pursuit dogged behind them, having to work through the same terrain, but being less familiar with woodland fighting. The two widened the distance.

“Reload.” Pentti said, and ducked behind a large pine.

Jusso took up position next to him, sweeping the barrel of his rifle back and forth while his friend reloaded.

“What comes after the rising action?” Jusso asked.

“You need to resolve the conflict with a climax, but you don’t have any conflict.”

Jusso grunted. “So that’s when the story resolves.”

“More or less.”

“But if I don’t know what it’s about, how can I resolve it?”

“Precisely.” Pentii stood and slapped him on the shoulder. They could hear their pursuers getting close again.

They ran faster. The hill began to crest, and the slope eased as they neared the summit. They had lost sight of the other squad members now, but the crisscrossing tracks indicated they were headed in the proper direction.

A bullet hummed by Jusso’s shoulder, catching on the cloth and nearly tugging him around, sending him off balance. Pentti spun. A lone Russian had pulled ahead of the others, following their tracks and running quiet and fast. His rifle ready, he fired again, catching Pentti in the chest, who crumpled.

“Perkele!” Jusso shouted and desperately tried to bring his rifle around to bear, but he was off kilter. He wasn’t going to be able to juggle it into his grip again in time, so he let it drop, and flung himself down. The Russian’s third shot passed through air right where Jusso’s head had been a second earlier.

Jusso rolled, clawing at his holster and bringing his pistol up with a snap, firing several times. At least two shots found their mark and the great-coated man spun, his rifle pirouetting away. Jusso held his breath, but the man didn’t move.

“Pentti!” he hissed and crawled forward.

His friend lay face down in the snow. Jusso flung off his gloves and rolled him over. No breath.

Gunfire drew closer. If he shouted for Tuomas now…

Jusso pulled open Pennti’s coat and felt around. His chest was soaked in warm blood, but his coat was clean. Perhaps the bullet was still lodged in him somewhere.

He noticed a low, steady moan that gradually became louder. Pentti was sucking in air, slowly like an old squeeze box. Jusso pulled his hand back. It was wet, but it wasn’t blood. It smelled like juniper.

“Gin. All I can smell in heaven is gin.” Pentti wheezed and sat up.

Jusso stared dumbly.

Gingerly pulling out a dented, split flask, Pentti began to cough deep, choking coughs. He finished by spitting out a gobbet of blood into the snow.

“We have… to … move” he gasped.

The echoes of the gunfire had changed - retreating from the south, and surging in from the east.

“Hoi, Jusso!” Tuomas called out and came crashing through brush. He knelt next to them, pulling Pentti’s coat and shirt open, checking for damage.

“The fourth squad to the rescue.” He muttered as he worked. “We lure the Russians into a trap, and Fourth will probably take all the credit.

“You’re going to feel like a bear mauled you. Broke a couple ribs, bad bruising, but you’ll live.”

Jusso sat back in the snow, turning the mashed flask over in his hands. “Pentti…”

“Hmm?”

“I think I’ll stick with the girl and the military officer.”

Pentti coughed. “I told you, it’s been done.”

Doctor Zero
Sep 21, 2002

Would you like a jelly baby?
It's been in my pocket through 4 regenerations,
but it's still good.

Dear sir/madam/extra dimensional being that transcends gender,

I would like to apply to voidmart.

Thank you.

Doctor Zero
Sep 21, 2002

Would you like a jelly baby?
It's been in my pocket through 4 regenerations,
but it's still good.

Sitting Here posted:

everyone who's asked for a discord link has been PMed one.

Me too please.

Doctor Zero
Sep 21, 2002

Would you like a jelly baby?
It's been in my pocket through 4 regenerations,
but it's still good.

Night Shift
1245 words

It was when Robert and I were stocking the canned meats around midnight when Elaine came around the corner, met my gaze, then started up the aisle towards us, shoes tapping out a machine gun rhythm.

Robert hadn’t been looking. Maybe that’s what made the difference - why she picked me. Maybe she knew I was two weeks senior to him, but I had only been working at Voidmart for three months, so I doubt she even knew who I was.

Robert set a can gently on the small stack he had started, but it jumped in the air, and hit the floor, jerking and rolling unevenly like those cat toys they sell over in the pet department.

“What the hell is in these, anyway?” He muttered, picked up the can and peered at it a few inches from his face.

“Heads up” I said.

“It just says ‘Meat product.” Robert said.

Elaine ground to a halt in front of us and crooked a finger at me.

“You.” She smelled like cigarettes and mothballs. Her suit would have been out of date twenty years ago, and her make-up was caked on as if someone had coated her face in car wax and never rubbed it off. I figured she had to be somewhere between thirty and ninety years old.

“You’re shift supervisor until further notice.” She declared.

“What happened to Hugh?”

“Flu. It’s going around.” She darted a long-nailed hand out and slapped my name badge so quickly, I didn’t even have time to flinch. When I looked down there was an emoji sticker on my name tag over “GARY.” I couldn’t decide if the face was ginning or grimacing. All the supervisors had one.

She thrust a binder and a magnetic stripe card at me. “Read this. The card gives you supervisory rights at the registers and time clock.”

She glared at me, empty black eyes peering out of plaster cast. “First thing, send someone over to Camping Goods. They’re short staffed due to illness”

She wheeled and I expected to see a cloud of hairpins and bats before she stalked off.

Robert clapped me on the shoulder. “Grats, buddy. Or should I say “boss?”

“Uh… thanks.” I looked at the binder. It said “SUPERVISOR’S GUIDE” on crooked sheet of paper that looked like it had been photocopied and re-photocopied since the Middle Ages. I had no idea how to be a shift supervisor.

“Hey, can you go over to Camping Goods and help out?” I asked. “I’ll finish up here.”

“Hell yes, I can!” Robert looked like I had handed him an early Christmas present.

“What’s with you?”

“Dude, Jenny keep going over there lately.”

“Jenny?”

“You know, the hot girl from Golden Bean! The one I’ve been trying to get with.” He made a rather gross hand motion.

“Oh, the one who wanders around the store all day talking to guys and never working?”

“Not cool. She’s delivering coffee.” Robert frowned.

“They don’t deliver. And she’s not carrying coffee.”

“Well, she must be taking orders.“ He waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter, she’s been going over and talking to Kevin. He says she agreed to see him after work. So I’m sure she’ll show up.”

“Well, don’t catch anything.”

Robert glared.

“I mean, the flu or something. I’m sure she’s nice.”


* * *


The phone rang and I jumped off my chair in the break room. I had been reading the Supervisor’s guide, I guess. I had no idea how long it had been, and the words seemed to swim on the page. My eyes ached. I snapped the binder shut.

I picked it up. “Hello?”

Elaine’s voice screeched. “There’s been four calls for clean up and nobody is answering. Get someone on it!”

“Sorry, ma’am. I’ve been reading the guide and-“

“Read that on your own time. Get someone to aisle 64 now!” The line went dead. Can you hear mothballs? It swore I could smell her through the phone.

I sighed and got the mop bucket out. The water sloshed around as I walked up and down aisles, a gray brown, pungent brew. I arrived in aisle 64 and sure enough, way in the corner by the wall there was a large dried up spill that looked like it had been there a while. Nobody came back here much, being the end of an aisle stuffed with non perishables that hadn’t sold. Faded, dusty boxes glowed dully under a light sputtering overhead.

Whatever the crap was shrugged off the mop water. I headed over another row to the borderlands of Camping Goods. They had metal grill scrapers that would probably work. As I rounded the end cap, I ran headlong into Robert hurrying toward the back.

“Oh thank God.” I said. “Hey look, I need you to clean up-“

Robert grabbed my shoulders.,

“Dude. Please, I will owe you a million favors. I will work double shifts, and clean the toilets, or whatever you want, but you have to let me punch out.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Everything is great!” He cried. “Kevin was the sick man out, and when Jennifer came by, I went for the kill!”

“The kill?”

“It took a lot of persuading, but she agreed to go get breakfast at the food bar with me!”

“Jesus man, can you just clean this up first, I’m exhausted, and I can’t find anyone-“

He dodged past me. “Thanks, boss! Owe you one!”

“gently caress.” I said.

I got the grill scraper, went back to the mess and began to work. Smelled like burnt hot dogs.


* * *


The next night, I dragged myself into the break room to punch it at 9:55pm. Robert was sitting at the table with a paper GOLDEN BEAN cup clasped in his hands, his time card perched between his fingers.

I swiped my badge through the time clock.

“You owe me big time, Rob. You know how long after shift I was here finishing up paper work? That goddamn mess took forever to clean up.”

He stared at his cup.

“Hey, you okay? How did it go?”

“Hmm?” He looked at me slowly, eyes not seeming to focus. “Oh, it was great. I think.”

“You think? What happened?”

“I…” he trailed off, staring back at his cup. “I don’t remember. I don’t feel good.”

“You’re going to be late if you don’t punch in.” I started to grab for his time card, but his fingers were hot and sweaty. I jerked my hand back, looking around for hand sanitizer.

“poo poo.” I said, “You have the drat flu? The gently caress did you come in for? Go home. Get sleep.”

Robert nodded glacially. “Yeah. Sleep. Good idea.”

“Tell me how it went later.” I said and headed out on the floor.


* * *


Sometime after midnight, I was inventorying the jerky in aisle 45 when one of the new guys, Roger found me.

“Hey Gary. Someone made a mess in the break room.”

“drat it, I hope he didn’t puke in there.”

“Who? No, it wasn’t puke. Whatever it was, I cleaned it.”

“Oh. Thanks, Roger. Appreciate it.”

“No worries. Was weird though. Seems like it had been there a while, even though I didn’t notice it earlier. Had to scrape it up with an ice scraper.”

“What?”

“Yeah, and I found this.” He dropped a time card into my hand. It was half melted or dissolved. One corner read, “ROBE”

Robe?

“Odd smell too. Stunk like burnt hot dogs in there.”

I dropped the card.

Doctor Zero
Sep 21, 2002

Would you like a jelly baby?
It's been in my pocket through 4 regenerations,
but it's still good.

Anomalous Amalgam posted:

I don't know if I have the power to do such a thing, but...

Interprompt: My neighbor has been doing something weird at night lately

250 Words

Babel

No no, Earl, that's' not it at all. You're right, it is impressive, sure enough. It's just that, well, when I heard all the ruckus last night and came over to see what was going on, I didn't think that...

No, I don't think it's been done before.

I mean I can't fathom how you got them all to stay like that, nor even where you got them all. Just getting the balance right must have been real tricky, and I'm sure it took a long time to get the sizing to line up. With that many of them, just the differences in hair must have been a factor. And yeah, they're stacked up really high - I can barely see the little ones at the top.

It's just that.. well, Earl I don't know how to tell you this, but that ain't really what a cat tower is.

Doctor Zero fucked around with this message at 11:21 on Oct 29, 2019

Doctor Zero
Sep 21, 2002

Would you like a jelly baby?
It's been in my pocket through 4 regenerations,
but it's still good.

argh gently caress. I thought I made the cut off before the edit would show up. Mea culpa. :smith:

Doctor Zero
Sep 21, 2002

Would you like a jelly baby?
It's been in my pocket through 4 regenerations,
but it's still good.

This is private thought right?

E: is archives private? I think it is...?

Doctor Zero
Sep 21, 2002

Would you like a jelly baby?
It's been in my pocket through 4 regenerations,
but it's still good.

Ah Goldmine. Got it. Thanks. :wotwot:

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Doctor Zero
Sep 21, 2002

Would you like a jelly baby?
It's been in my pocket through 4 regenerations,
but it's still good.

Djeser posted:

Oh yeah, forgot the confusion between SA archives and TD archives.

Thread gets goldmined, which is public; TD archives require an account and therefore are not publicly searchable. (Also you can hide stories on the TD archive if you're really really ashamed of yourself.)

Nah that’s cool. Looking back at my history I guess I wrote more than I remembered, but less than I would have liked. There are still a couple I’d like to clean up and submit, so I removed them.

Thanks to all the Thundergoons for a good year.

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