Cheeseburger Gothic

"Dave talks to a lawyer," by Insomniac. Fanfest 2015

Posted March 4, 2015 into Book Extract by John Birmingham

Professor Boylan has a theory that this whole series is about transformation. Orin retorts that it's about getting kick arse legal advice. Insomniac says its both.

'Just do it'.

The girl's dress slid down slowly, revealing her boobs. Boobs so small they could barely be seen. Dave stared intently. It reminded him of his lame poker joke. 'I see your boobs ... and raise you a doodle'.

'You're making me late for golf'.

Dave stopped staring and pressed down with the lawyer's stripper pen at the bottom of the page. He pressed down a little harder and signed with a flourish.

He tossed the divorce papers back in the general direction of the lawyer. A short man, who clearly overindulged in Portuguese custard tarts, with skin the colour of a decades-old washed out t-shirt, and eyebrows, precisely equalling the number owned by Bert and Ernie, looming in all their bushiness over two tiny squinty eyes, topped off by a prominent sagittal crest running directly back from his forehead and over his balding skull.

'A real lady's man', thought Dave, with the tiniest scintilla of a grin forming around the corners of his mouth.

'What's so funny?' asked the wife-boning lawyer.

Dave suddenly realised that nothing was funny. The wife-boning lawyer was boning his wife, or at least his ex-wife now. If he was a lady's man then Dave was Captain Loser, squared.

'Nothin', he replied, and afterwards mumbled, 'Asshole'.

He sat back and admired the new etching in the glass surface of the lawyer's desk. The added flourish had made his signature a beautiful piece of art, catching the sunlight and breaking into a thousand tiny rainbows. He secretly hoped it would be a real knob softener one day when Veitch saw his name twinkling up at him from between Annie's legs as he tried screwing her, legs akimbo, across the desk. He leaned in again, nostrils flaring, to confirm.

'What have you done to my desk, you little fuc...', Veitch stopped mid sentence.

Dave looked up.

Veitch's eyes were blue, now wide open.

'Hmm', thought Dave. He had only ever seen squinty Veitch before. This was something new.

Veitch's eyes bulged. The whites were clearly visible; a corona of light around blue centres, bright red streaks leading away to the periphery.

A single bead of perspiration drew on the right side of Veitch's brow. Dave followed it as gravity sent it straight down to the bushy monobrow, where it veered right and ran further around the bulging eye and down the beige cheek to drip off Veitch's jaw. Dave's eye returned to the source. That bead now had hundreds of brothers. Sweat was pouring off Veitch now as if he had accidentally strayed into a nude sauna at a gay convention while they were doing lines of rhinoceros horn.

Veitch was attempting to say something, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish gasping for water, but other than a gurgle, nothing escaped his lips.

He started leaning to his left, almost imperceptibly at first, but accelerating smoothly until he reached his tipping point, crashing to the floor.

Dave could see through the glass desk that his initial assumption regarding horny homosexuals wasn't too far from the actuality of the situation. He caught a glimpse of the eyestalks of a thresh as they disappeared from sight. The thresh wasn't just fucking Veitch; he was completely fucked. Although this was a new development, he had seen that people stayed deader than dead when they tangled with former inhabitants of the Under Realm.

Veitch lay twitching on the carpet, knees drawn up in the foetal position, his violated arse pointing towards Dave, golf pants shredded.

'Couldn't happen to a nicer person', he thought, as he waited for Veitch to die.

*****

Veitch rose up from the carpet, no longer the short, fat, cartoon of a man. What now stood before Dave was synergistically chimeric: more than Veitch, more than thresh, more than both.

This new Veitch was easily eight feet tall, helped by the now extremely pointy crest riding its skull.

'That's some bad hat, Harry', Dave blurted out with a very poor impression, followed by, 'Oh yeah, we are definitely gonna need a bigger boat'.

The eyes were still blue; there were just more than two now, sitting atop an arc of eyestalks. A triplet of eyes were staring at Dave staring right back. The rest were surveying the office.

The skin of the monster was spectacularly unique. On any other day it would have taken on a pinstriped charcoal appearance, light blue-chested with a band of white around the neck highlighted with a tuft of red fur at the midpoint, but this was Wednesday, and Wednesday was golf day.

Veitch, appalling as he was as a person, had an even more appalling fashion sense. 'Name one golfer who doesn't', thought Dave.

The bottom half was straight from the sixties, mostly daffodil yellow with a series of huge psychedelic flowers with black-edged petals in orange and red and grey, each with an eye looking right through you.

Dave's head was already spinning.

An impossible solarscape was plastered across the monster's poorly cut torso. Suns, nebulae and ringed planets sitting adjacent one another on a sea of space black and blue, with two identical large gas giants straddling either side of the centre line of its chest like a pair of well-developed mazoongas.

The more Dave looked at the monster, the more something wasn't quite right. Something obvious, but not immediately so. Then he saw it.

He made a mental note in his newfound lexicon. 'Ur Veitch: Vulnerabilities: Cock punch: n/a'.

22 Responses to ‘"Dave talks to a lawyer," by Insomniac. Fanfest 2015 ’

Darth Greybeard has opinions thus...

Posted March 4, 2015
Um. I've never offended you have I insomniac? Pal? Ouchie.

NBlob ducks in to say...

Posted March 4, 2015
You offend all right thinking people, sleepy or otherwise, by your continued existence.

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NBlob has opinions thus...

Posted March 4, 2015
Nice one Noddy.

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Paul_Nicholas_Boylan is gonna tell you...

Posted March 5, 2015
Okay, so the only apparent physical difference between Veitch and Boylan
is the location of their skull bumps, the apparent fact that Veitch is
a golf enthusiast (whereas Boylan is not) and the equally apparent fact
that Boylan has a better fashion sense (despite the often rumpled
nature of his business suit)? If so, I approve.

And I honestly laughed out loud at the "Bad Hat Harry" reference.

Respond to this comment

Therbs swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted March 5, 2015
Orc sex. At last.

w from brisbane ducks in to say...

Posted March 5, 2015
Tellingly I think, 'orc sex at last' is an anagram for 'costars exalt'.

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Dave W is gonna tell you...

Posted March 5, 2015
I, for one, am loving these fan fics.
Just thought that I'd put that out there.

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JG mumbles...

Posted March 5, 2015
Oww. It's like you had a personal vendetta against Veitch, Sleepless. That's gotta hurt. Veitch: screwed cockless from one planet to the next. Nice psyhedelic reference to his golf pants. Hole in one. I didn't know you could be so cruel, Insomnia.

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GhostSwirv would have you know...

Posted March 5, 2015


What is about lawyers, golf fashions, stripper pens and divorce proceedings that brings out the inner monsters in the Cheeseburger Ensemble?

GhostSwirv over and out of mayonnaise

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Brother PorkChop mumbles...

Posted March 5, 2015
Boobs. I wondered what my boys were giggling at. Teach me to leave it all open. And now they have been googling "boob pens". And I am in trouble with you know who.Worth it though.

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insomniac puts forth...

Posted March 6, 2015
Obviously I have managed to offend some of you, if not many. I have no problem with people being offended. You have that right. I have a right, of sorts, to free speech. It's already been moderated by JB. It's his blog. He gets to decide what gets published. This is no apology, but a recognition that I probably went too hard. I accept your criticism and take it on board. In the event there was another opportunity, I would be more moderate in my approach.

Paul_Nicholas_Boylan reckons...

Posted March 6, 2015
What? Come on, mate. You didn't offend anyone and didn't go "too hard."

I, on the other hand, am offended that you think you might have offended me.

insomniac swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted March 6, 2015
I don't think that

Therbs has opinions thus...

Posted March 6, 2015
I'd like to be offended but aren't.

John Birmingham ducks in to say...

Posted March 6, 2015
I corrected some spelling and Canon issues. Only a word or two here and there. I didn't think there was anything in it to offend.

NBlob ducks in to say...

Posted March 6, 2015
Oh I'm fully offended. I couldn't be more offended if I had an electric offend-o-mator. My dudgeon is stratospheric. I've taken offence & umbrage. I've been un gruntled. My piqué is so fit it is entering the Molokai Tri Athlon. I'm vexed, gruntled & pissed.

John Birmingham reckons...

Posted March 6, 2015
You're always gruntled

w from brisbane asserts...

Posted March 6, 2015
I don't blame you insomniac. It's Dave.

w from brisbane puts forth...

Posted March 6, 2015
And when I say "It's Dave", I like Dave, but it's clearly all him.

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Dick mutters...

Posted March 6, 2015
Offended? Hardly. That was brilliant. And JB had to edit it?

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Bedes ducks in to say...

Posted March 12, 2015
Very enjoyable. Good to see 'gruntled' get a run again. Sam Orr lives

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The Sky Lords - Fanfest 2015 by BrianC

Posted March 3, 2015 into Book Extract by John Birmingham

At first glance I thought this was a Superman crossover. Instead, it's an offstage look at how Dave got himself in this mess. It was somebody else's fault!

Mith-EL turned to see his brother Rah-EL integrate and walk through the mists of the edge towards him. His brother carried with him a resigned expression and was clothed in light and fire. Mith-EL himself chose not to cover what was not flesh in anycase. He had no mortal needs and thought little about mortal matters… usually.

“Brother is this why you have called me here?” Rah-EL indicated the lensing point before them, it was an eccentricity of space and time, a fold in space containing a singularity. The EL could use the lens as a focus to view any place in time and space, and his brother now had it focused on an insignificant world they had not visited for hundreds of millennia. “Look Brother” Mith-EL spoke “That which we had sealed has been sunderd” Mith-EL pointed towards the lens as his brother focused on it, his mind fully realising the whole of the reality of the world encompassing the entirety of all living things, knowing all their hopes and dreams, fears and hates. In that same instant he knew the discordant stench of the other their greed and hate their mind of animal cunning and intelligence. In that same instant he knew of the bore and the seal. He knew the whole of the peril before him.

Rah-EL spoke “Who is responsible, brother” He turned his accusing gaze on Mith-EL, known as the Gardener as he Rah-EL was known as the Judge. “Not I brother, and not Ur-EL either she never tires of her experiments and is beyond the mists seeking answers about the before” He grimaced “Luth-EL is lost to us, banished for her transgressions, as unlikely as it would seem the sentience on this world has broken the seal on the prison of the other.”

He shook his head and wonder and disgust at what he had just said “Impossible!” Rah-EL retorted “But yet how else could it have come to pass, why was the seal in this plane, it was sent beyond never to be opened, Luth-EL sent it hersel…”

Rah-EL’s eyes widened in understanding, and Mith-EL snorted “Her plans where ever complicated and long brother, it took me a while to understand what had happened as well. That is not what concerns me however, it is done. We cannot undo it and even if we could convince Ur-EL to leave her experiments we would not be able to re-seal the prison without Luth-EL, and she is gone. Punished by the EL and sent outside the plane. My concern is the risk, the other in this guise is not without guile it is possible with the example of the intelligence of this world they may spread to other worlds in this region…” Mith-EL trailed off the question implicit “We cannot intervene in the affairs of the mortal intelligences, we are constrained by our purpose. We were able to seal away the other, as it is not of this realm. They fight alone”

“Perhaps not brother, this one interested me.” With a brief gesture the lens changed to show a member of the local intelligence leaping between two local flying machines of unremarkable design and landing. “He carries a weapon of dark purpose and intellect, and more than that brother, know him”

Mith-EL turned to look at his brother indicating the man before them seemingly frozen in mid-air Rah-EL turned his focus to the man, and shook his head again “Strange he seems to have a fragment of the power of the other, but… it remains uncorrupted in him. Even though his man himself is filled with corruption. The power is changing him he’s feeding it and he doesn’t know what its doing.” He turned to Mith-EL “Your doing brother?” Mith-EL shook his head and said “No brother never was I this subtle, this is the work of the Ur-EL, and it is an ancient working set into the seal itself, it seems like even so long ago the Warden did not trust Luth-EL”

“So there is hope?” Rah-EL questioned his brother “Yes Brother there is hope”

“For now”

11 Responses to ‘The Sky Lords - Fanfest 2015 by BrianC’

Surtac mumbles...

Posted March 3, 2015


Nice - I enjoyed that.

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Therbs mumbles...

Posted March 3, 2015
What an interesting take. Nicely done.

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Paul_Nicholas_Boylan would have you know...

Posted March 3, 2015
Yep, liked it, too.

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Darth Greybeard would have you know...

Posted March 3, 2015
Ditto. Damn Sky Lords - I blame them very much.

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GhostSwirv reckons...

Posted March 3, 2015

Very nicely done and what I'd also like to know is how JB captured a Minecrafted image of Professor X and Greybeard in fanfic garb?

GhostSwirv over and out ... the marking awaits.

Paul_Nicholas_Boylan reckons...

Posted March 3, 2015
There is a website featuring photos of us together. It is very popular with hot babes. Not that Greybeard or I can do anything about it, but it is still nice to know.

GhostSwirv swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted March 3, 2015

ProfX, that wouldn't be ...

www.awesomerus.com

by any chance?

Ummm just asking for a friend?

GhostSwirv over and out of cheap data

Paul_Nicholas_Boylan mutters...

Posted March 3, 2015
oldguyswithmoneywhotireeasily.com

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JG puts forth...

Posted March 3, 2015
Cool, Brian. A spectator story. Great to read your view of the interested but somewhat unfazed and removed Sky Lords. They look like Lego props in the pic. Still to come across Sky Lords in Resistance but have now encountered your character, PNB. Classic.

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pitpat reckons...

Posted March 3, 2015
Thanks Brian was cool

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BrianC swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted March 18, 2015
Thanks Lads.

Im glad you all enjoyed it.

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Respond to 'The Sky Lords - Fanfest 2015 by BrianC'

A Matter of Elvish - Mark Williams Fanfest 2015

Posted February 28, 2015 into Book Extract by John Birmingham

Another lovely piece of story telling, this time by Sparty. There really is some good work in this little festival.

The huge orcy things armour just shook off the blow and Ben’s War Hammer shattered in two.

The next hit will end this he thought. He did a quick mental inventory. No useful weapons left, he was bleeding everywhere and the rest of his team were all down. They were on their own and no rescue was coming. Oh well, he thought, sometimes you just have to hunker down and roll the hard six.

Time to take a chance and roll the dice.

"Ok I cast firestorm"

His friends groaned -"it's a tiny room!”

Mark, the dungeon master, refereeing this particular game, snapped out an answer. “you’ve said, you've cast it- roll the damage". He was interrupted by Rico, dyed green haired, hyperactive and unable to sit still once his role playing character was out of action. Rico came rushing back into the room holding his iPad. “Jeez put on the TV now- you don’t want to miss this!”

***

They watched the coverage from the basement of a house eight blocks from the FEBA or forward edge of battle area) as Dan the ROTC cadet confidently informed them. Not in the stunned silence like most groups of viewers gathered around TV's across the United States. This group conducted a live commentary on the WBN footage of the first battle of New Orleans.

"Oh that's gotta hurt"

"Nice warbow shot, definitely rolled a critical hit there"

"Now that's the sound of an AK 47 going full auto"

"Thing is with Tbow, he may be a drug dealing gangster bastard but you know he's good to his Mom and that he's got your back when the monsters come"

I reckon that must be a warhammer"

"No look it's an axe"

"Axe hammer!"

"HAMMERAXE!"

'That must be some crowded airspace with all those news choppers and gunships"

"Oh dear, Now that was always going to happen".

When the battle had started and the first flashes and bangs had occurred, Mark, wanting to keep their focus on the game of Daemons and Damsels (3rd Edition!), he had spent to much study period time devising, had assured them that it was just downtown fireworks, probably a stag party. He now regretted that mis-undersestimation, as Bush the dimmer might say.

Halfway through, when it had seemed that the battle might come their way, the group had discussed whether to enact their apocalyptic bug out plan. Ironically they had never actually developed a protocol for middle earth style daemons, but a combination of their plans for dealing with Alien invasion and Zombie outbreak (the slow kind – being non athletic indoors kids they pretty much knew it was game over in the case of the fast kind) would have suited the situation. The problem was that the one thing more fun than trying to escape a daemon apocalypse was watching the said Daemon apocalypse, on a 52 inch High definition plasma TV in skywalker surround sound, punctuated with real time twitter updates.

Even so Dan, not having his ROTC uniform at hand, had insisted on donning the chain mail he kept in Mark’s basement and which he wore during his live action role play events.

A stoke of lucky timing had ensured that various parents were away, and the FEMA state of emergency takeover of cell phone frequencies, meant they spent the night undisturbed from "oh my god come home "phone calls.

Susannah, the token female who had been playing Daemons and Damsels (DnD for short, due to international copyright reasons) with them had become a definite fan girl of The Dave. "he is soooo toned" she purred. Mark agreed, getting a strange glance from the others. “Not that there is anything wrong with that” he quickly added.

They played back the video of Dave’s football field length leap onto the back of the pickup truck (CNN now called it his signature move) in slow motion, which meant it was pretty much normal speed on playback). They argued over his abilities. Super enhanced, but still basically human fitness and muscle or supernaturally magical. The boys not being gym types went for magic, Susannah, while not being affected over a TV broadcast by Dave’s yet to be defined pheromones, was just sixteen, so insisted it was all " natural' .

They knew better than to try and go down and watch live from the side lines. They’d all seen Mad Max beyond Thunder Dome and Gladiators 2: Aurelius rising, and knew what could happen to spectators at blood sport events.

***

It was a sleep over. The sun was well up by the time they struggled out of their sleeping bags. The TV was still on in the background, a rotund white haired author of fantasy novels was a talking head giving his “views”, the closest thing to an 'expert' the news channels has been able to find. Becoming a media commentator on the events looked like a good career move for him given that real life had just out paced the slow delivery of his fantasy novels.

Dan, rose very slowly, He’d worn the chain mail armour (with a House of Humakti Tabard, painstakingly hand sown in by his mum) all night as a matter of principal. It clearly weighed him down. He sniffed at the air, “Jesus it stinks in here”.

Susannah was pottering around making coffee, "I've opened all the windows"

Mark spoke announcing with confidence that comes from being both a games master and having just seen his world view pretty much validated the night before. , “The wind direction has changed. It's blowing in from down town” (it hadn't), “and that's the smell of burnt flesh” (it wasn't ).

Once more ADS suffering Rico burst into the basement room "Hey quick come, you'll never believe what’s happened"

***

They stood in a group around the wood shed out-back. Dan now complemented his chainmail and tabard (House of Humakti motto: "we may be arse holes but at least we are Humakti arseholes”) with a homemade morning star. Mark held a hedge trimmer (electric but the cable did have a very long extension). Rico hand in his hand an iPhone with a Startrek universal translation app running ( Klingon to human and human to Klingon being the only two choices) and Susannah sipped from a cup of coffee.

The beast had crawled into the shadows of the corner of the woodshed. Blood followed it and it was completely unmoving, not noticing them even with the hedge trimmer now rotating, and Dan’s chainmail at full clank.

"Is it one of those Slithereen?" Rico wondered

“No too thin” Dan snapped back in an authoritive fashion.

"It's a dark drow" Mark suggested.

“No it's not, too short” Dan contradicted.

Mark pondered for a moment "Definitely a dark drow"

Rico had moved closer - "What do we do with it. Its injured but I’m pretty sure it’s not dead.?"

Susannah picked two items off the shelf in the woodshed and held them up for all to see.

A roll of duct tape and plastic ties.

A little while later they were ready.

"Ok if he moves, Susannah don't wait to use the crossbow” Dan instructed. And she did indeed have a homemade crossbow- usually armed with rubber tipped projectiles for live action roleplaying but this morning a six inch iron nail sat in the groove. They had steel ones that would certainly fly further but was convinced that iron would hold mystical properties when used against evil creatures. They had debated if the horde were actually evil – after all they just came from a different belief system not based on Judeo Christian values. This led Dan to expand on his theory that the Orcs in Lord of the Rings were driven to war by population pressure and being forced to exist on marginal land, much like the native Americans. In the end they decided iron just looked better.

Sometime later they had finished trussing the Beast up who was now awake but unmoving.

There was no debate. They had a live survivor from the battle, they could hand him / it, no it was very definitely a HIM, over to the authorities or they could ensure that someone who actually knew what they were doing did the interrogation.

An hour later, having moved on from Klingon (the two languages really did sound similar), Susannah stepped a little closer and passed a carton of isotonic drink, with a straw to its mouth.

She spoke a few words softly and clearly, with an apparent Irish lilt “Gi nath lam hí ” and the beast spoke back. In Elvish. Rico ran excitedly back inside to get the Lord of the Rings and Silmarillion appendixes.

Susannah turned back to the boys. "He's a "thresh". I've told him he is our prisoner but also that under guest right we will now protect him.

They nodded sagely.

***

In the days that followed the first battle of New Orleans, the US armed forces suffered a deficit of intel on the horde. Dave, their walking Horde Wikipedia was all to often on task and unavailable. But they did get some very useful tidbits of information, the best of which usually came via anonymous emails through TOR from a user signature of “the Dungeon Master”.

10 Responses to ‘A Matter of Elvish - Mark Williams Fanfest 2015’

Sparty asserts...

Posted February 28, 2015
Awesome picture selection Birmo- if the writing gig doesn't work out you could try being an editor!

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Nocturnalist mutters...

Posted February 28, 2015
Hah, I actually have some of the Warhammer orcs from that first pic. I cut the weapons off them and used them as blitzers for my Blood Bowl team.

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Bunyip asserts...

Posted February 28, 2015
Brill. And extra geek points for the Runequest reference. Ta muchly, Sparty.

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she_jedi has opinions thus...

Posted February 28, 2015
I so enjoyed the dig at GRRM, and the Tolkien reference. Perfection.

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Paul_Nicholas_Boylan swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted March 1, 2015
Just simply loved it.

This fan fic festival is unexpected big fun.

Better than the Grantville Gazette. Enough of these would make a good companion anthology.

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Therbs is gonna tell you...

Posted March 1, 2015
Enjoyed that one. A pet thresh for every home.

insomniac is gonna tell you...

Posted March 1, 2015
Not my thresh

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JG mumbles...

Posted March 1, 2015
Terrific, Sparty. Overtones of ET. It's great reading all the different stories and interesting perspectives in this fanfest. Great choice of pics for the stories, JB.

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GhostSwirv would have you know...

Posted March 1, 2015

Lovely work Sparty, very much like the setting of your tale as a few miles away from the Miami Incursion about real characters just getting on with their daily lives.

I was wondering that since your thresh was likely going to live in the shed that maybe you might consider naming it Frosty, after say Nick from Shaun of the Dead.

Its just an idea feel free to pass on whatever intel you deem appropriate to the proper authorities.

GhostSwirv over and out.

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Rhino mutters...

Posted March 3, 2015
That was geek-tastic! The wet dream of all D&D players everywhere. (Remembers when GenCon was a couple of hundred unwashed geeks).

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Fangr vs the Wave: Fanfest 2015 by Damian Cody

Posted February 27, 2015 into Book Extract by John Birmingham

A little crossover action in this short pen sketch by Damian Cody of a poor, hungry Fangr which chose the wrong narrative arc. This is an idea I like so much I could myself stealing it for a short story.

It was part of a scouting party when the avalanche happened, being smaller than the others it was spared death but was stuck between two large boulders. After much struggling, Fangr freed itself and crawled out, confused but drawn to the light from above, it was brighter than any it had know. Fangr slowly made its way forward towards the light, slipping between the rocks and the dead of the scouting party. Eventually it arrived on the surface of a place not know, but legends of the old ones filled its mind. Was this the over-world where the human cattle lived? Digestive juices filled its mouth at the thought of the meat, the blood wine and the rewards the Queen would bestow upon the lowly fangr who had found an entrance to the world of man.


It proceeding with caution, remembering stories about the human world and the burning light from above. This light did not burn, it was warm and the air shimmered like the air above a freshly filled blood pot.


It decided to look around for proof of the over-world before returning. To bring back fresh human meat would please his Queen, if it dared it may even sample some for itself before returning.
It wandered, at first cautious, eventually it bored of the solitude and went at its own pace. It was the same everywhere, piles of what it guessed were human coverings covered in some sort off goo. Hungry and desperate, it tasted some, discovering it was enough to keep his hunger at bay as each light cycle passed.


Eventually it gave up, the hunger for real food and the irritation from the shimmering light drove it back to the tunnel entrance, it looked back one last time, disappointed there would be no blood feast, this world was dead.

14 Responses to ‘Fangr vs the Wave: Fanfest 2015 by Damian Cody’

Murphy mumbles...

Posted February 27, 2015
Wow!
Thumbs up!
Respects,
Murph
On the Outer Marches

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Paul_Nicholas_Boylan ducks in to say...

Posted February 27, 2015
What a cool idea.

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she_jedi puts forth...

Posted February 27, 2015
That was fantastic!

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JG reckons...

Posted February 27, 2015
Humanising the Fangr. I feel the desolation and emptiness. Nice take on the story.

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Therbs mumbles...

Posted February 27, 2015
Love the concept. Well played.

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sibeen puts forth...

Posted February 27, 2015
OK, now I am confused.

John, was it you who placed the 'Wolfram
& Hart" bit at the end of <s>dickhead's</s> Boylan's
spiel, or was it own idea?

Christ, I may have given out kudos where none belonged,

BTW, Damien, a fantastic mash up. Loved it

Paul_Nicholas_Boylan asserts...

Posted February 28, 2015
It was John's addition. I had to research the reference to find out what it meant.

Anthony ducks in to say...

Posted February 28, 2015
I merely assumed that Boylan had submitted it on company notepaper.

Darth Greybeard would have you know...

Posted February 28, 2015
Well played Sir.

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Drew-mo would have you know...

Posted February 28, 2015
Love a good crossover. It has potential.

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Sparty reckons...

Posted February 28, 2015
Great little idea - an strangely affecting - . Be nice to see Kolhammer turn up and kick some Horde butt.

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Darth Greybeard swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted February 28, 2015
Nice one. You thought Skorzeny was tough eh Harry?

drew-mo mutters...

Posted March 3, 2015
+1 Internetz to you, Sir.

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Rhino ducks in to say...

Posted March 3, 2015
Very good ... great crossover.

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Fanfest 2015, When did you last see the Dave? By Jason Cox

Posted February 25, 2015 into Book Extract by John Birmingham

A somewhat darker piece, and shorter, with a twist at the end I rather enjoyed. I made one or two quick sub edits for consistency.

___

The small boy made no sound. His face was contorted in pain. His sweat had soaked his face and the Indians Baseball t-shirt he wore was so wet as to become see through. The sneakers he had pleaded to have for his seventh birthday were now putrid with a mix of his sweat and the urine he could no longer contain. He was aware of none of these things. His was simply a world of pain.

The three Lore Keepers explored his mind as best they could. This mind was different to theirs and contained places they knew nothing of. The search for information about the one they called Dave had not gone well. The boy knew little except what he had heard from his friends, what the Hunn would call nestling mates. This was of concern for the Lore Keepers. They had expected the Dave to be famous in both Clan and Sect. There were far more disturbing things in the child’s mind.

The surface dwellers had changed much since the Lore Keepers last knowledge of them. They were far more of them now and they had weapons the likes of which the Hunn did not understand. This was not the most disturbing information they had gleaned from the child.

A door slamming against the wall broke the silence. The Queen’s Guard entered the Lore Keeper’s Cathedral walking with all the arrogance his position demanded. “The Queen desires her feast. Have you finished with the child?”

“The child can tell us no more.” The Lore Keepers spoke together their three voices blending into one. “He knows little of the Dave. The humans have populated the planet and are now plentiful. There will be enough food for all once we take the surface back. They know nothing of the Sky Lords”. The Queen’s Guard nodded. “This is good”. The Queen will be pleased.

“There is bad news. They have a hero mightier than Dave. We have been fortunate that the boy has knowledge of his weakness and we can easily defeat him. Tell your scouts to search the over-world for a substance called kryptonite. If we tip our arrows with this the Superman cannot harm us. Tell this to your Queen”.

The Guard left dragging the tasty boy with him. There would be much fame to the one who killed the Superman and it would be his.

10 Responses to ‘Fanfest 2015, When did you last see the Dave? By Jason Cox’

insomniac swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted February 25, 2015
Interesting take that fictional characters could form part of the human experience for the Under Realm. I'd place it on the same level as religion.

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she_jedi mumbles...

Posted February 25, 2015
Oh I loved that! What a genius twist at the end

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Paul_Nicholas_Boylan would have you know...

Posted February 26, 2015
Really good. Very cool.

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Sparty mutters...

Posted February 26, 2015
Good story - gets you thinking in all sorts of directions- The Supes reference has now made me imagine George Costanza captured by the Horde..

Paul_Nicholas_Boylan ducks in to say...

Posted February 26, 2015
That isn't how I perceived the thrust of the story. The kid told them about Superman because the kid thinks Superman is real. He isn't, but the Lore Keepers can only pick up what the kid believes and knows - and the reality of a seven year old boy is not always based on reality.

For me, this story makes me wonder what the Horde would do with information pertaining to Santa Claus gleaned from a child that believes in him. And, as Brother Insomniac notes, the consequences of human religious beliefs.

A good story, Jason: terse and thought provoking, creating ripples of possibility from the stone your story dropped in this pond.

MickH ducks in to say...

Posted February 27, 2015
But you're missing the obvious extension to this Pual in that they will think that Jesus is real and is most probably one of the Sky Lords.
This could greatly effect any decisions the Horde may make about re-taking the outer realms

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Therbs is gonna tell you...

Posted February 26, 2015
Good stuff. The introduction of Invisible Friends is a gem.

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Rhino has opinions thus...

Posted February 27, 2015
Great twist ... enjoyed that very much. Nice job!

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JG swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted February 27, 2015
Yep, a great twist.

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MickH ducks in to say...

Posted February 27, 2015
Well Done Jason.
Short sharp and to the point with a twist

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Respond to 'Fanfest 2015, When did you last see the Dave? By Jason Cox'

Fanfest 2015. The Favourite, by Professor X Boylan

Posted February 24, 2015 into Book Extract by John Birmingham

To mark the release of a second helping o' Dave, we'll begin the Festival of Reader Fiction tonight. It seems appropriate to kick off with the Prof, since has already proven himself such a worthy addition to the canon of The Dave.

On which topic, allow ME to remind y'all before we begin. Although I might borrow from these stories in the future, none of the pieces we'e about to read can yet be counted as Canon.

THE FAVOURITE - by Professor Boylan

As the Grymm Elder grew closer to the Queen’s private parlor, he felt her thoughts pushing against his skull – probing - like long, boney human fingers - the wall around the Elder’s mind. He felt the Queen’s presence grow as he walked steadily through the grand chamber’s dim red-lit gloom. Her unseen presence beat at him like the waves of an ancient ocean crashing on the rough rocks; like the roll of thunder booming before rain fell from the almost forgotten open sky.

The Elder ignored it all. He saw it as courtly drama, a game: the Queen flattered him, paying him a compliment through her token attempt. Nothing could so easily invade a Grymm’s mind – not even the Low Queen of the UnderRealms.

But age-old tradition dictated what came next: the Grymm Elder entered the Queen’s parlor, dropped to his knees, retracted his fangs and talons and bared his neck for her teeth and claws to ravage, if she so desired.

“Rise and speak,” the Queen commanded, sprawled upon her bedrock throne.

“The Grymm Council is concerned about the human,” the Elder began as he rose from the hard stone floor.

“Which human?” the Queen asked.

“Your new pet.”

“Ah. That human,” the Queen said, shifting her massive bulk to a more comfortable position. “What concerns the Grymm Council?” she asked.

“We gave the human to you as a gift with the expectation that you would eat its flesh and slake your thirst on its blood, and that you would be pleased.”

“The gesture did please me,” the Queen said.

“But you did not kill it,” the Elder continued. “You did not eat it. You did not drink its bloodwine.”

“No. I did not.” The Queen paused, her reptilian face unable to so much as hint at the amusement this meeting provided. “The human is too puny to make a proper meal. A mere morsel. A mere drip of bloodwine. My hunger is not so easily satisfied.“

“Your appetite is legendary, Majesty, and this concerns the Grymm Council,” the Elder said.

“Are you saying you are worried that I am getting fat?” the Queen asked.

“Fat?”

“Yes. Overweight. Possessing an inappropriately large physical bearing, resulting in socially rejection,” the Queen explained. “And counterproductive if intent on attracting the amorous attention of others,” she added and waited expectantly.

“I understand and accept the traditional protocols, Your Majesty,” the Elder carefully said,” but I feel the need for honesty.”

“You could always open your mind to me,” the Queen suggested. “I would then know the truth that concerns you without any threat of deception.”

“According to our ancient customs, I respectfully decline your invitation.”

“Then you may speak freely,” the Queen said.

“Your concern that I think you are “fat” is at the heart of the Council’s reason for seeking this audience,” the Elder explained.

“How so?”

“Your questions – and your equally alarming comments – demonstrate that you have changed,” the Elder said.

“No I haven’t.”

“Yes, you have.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yes you have. For ages untold you have never asked any Grymm if you look fat.”

“Do I look fat?”

“You see, that is what I am talking about,” the Elder said. “You have never asked that question.”

The Queen said nothing.

“You’ve changed, Your Majesty. We feel the human is responsible.”

“You fear the human’s influence,” the Queen said. “You fear it will corrupt me. You doubt I will dominate the human.”

“No. I have no doubts. But I am told you cannot enter its mind,” the Elder said.

“None of us can,” the Queen observed. “Humans do not share the gift of belonging to a group mind.”

“True, but none of us imagined that you would also lack the ability,” the Elder said.

“You fear my lack of power?”

“No, not at all. We fear that you do not recognize this vile creature for what it is. We fear it weaves words into magick that veils your vision and leads you astray.”

“Magick!” the Queen snorted in derision. “There are no magicks in these humans.”

“There is magick in the Dave,” the Elder stated.

“Yes, but the Dave is unique,” the Queen explained. “The Dave is the only one. There are no others. This human you fear is like all other humans - like spiders so small and so easily crushed.”

“I have undeniable proof that this human has corrupted you,” the Elder said.

“Are you prepared to reveal your evidence?” the Queen asked in deadly promise.

A sense of encroaching doom struck the Elder. But the Grymm Elder came to this moment prepared with a weapon that he hoped he would not be forced to use. He said a word designed as both sword and shield in the battle for his life, cast forth to both disarm the Queen and push his argument forward.

“Bacon,” he said.

“Bacon?”

“Yes. Bacon. The human assists you to acquire great quantities of bacon,” the Elder said, avoiding any hint of accusation.

“It is widely believed by humans throughout the Above that there is no such thing as too much bacon,” the Queen said.

“It is not the amount of bacon you consume that concerns the Council. It is the undeniable fact that bacon has replaced your desire for human flesh and blood.”

“I have not hid my fondness for bacon,” the Queen said. “It is delicious.”

“Yes. Granted” the Grymm Elder conceded. “I sampled a morsel once. Very tasty. “

“Only a morsel?”

“Only a morsel, Your Majesty. It is a substance that is difficult to procure.”

“And expensive.”

“And expensive,” the Elder agreed.

“Yum boogie,” the Queen said.

Not understanding the reference, the Elder moved on. “In addition to preferring what you refer to as “pig meat” to human flesh, it is whispered that you forego bloodwine in favor of a liquid called “Zinfandel.”

“From California.”

“I don’t know what “California” is, Majesty.”

“It is a human land of great riches. Did you know that California is the only place Above that has the zinfandel grape because there was a war, and all the seed burned, but immigrants to the Realm of California brought seeds with them and they planted them everywhere and now I can drink of that bounty?”

“I … did not know that.” The Grymm Elder shook his head

“My pet human told me that the existence of Zinfandel combined with my desire for it is proof that even human history serves my interests. If not for my desire, it is possible that war may not have been fought casting those immigrants to a new home to save the varietal,” the Queen said.

“Is that also true for durian?”

“You know of durian?”

“Yes, of course we do. And we know of stinky tofu, Epoisses de Bourgogne and black truffle. We know your pet human has established a network of contacts throughout the Above to provide you with exotic luxuries that do not just tempt you, they change you, coaxing you to reject our ancient ways, our ancient wisdom, in favor of foreign ways and alien values,” the Elder said. Suddenly his dignified reserve crumbled, exposing his fear. “You no longer hunger for human flesh and blood,” the Grymm Elder said. “You prefer bacon and pork chops and wine and chocolate.” Saliva jetted into the Elder’s mouth at the thought of chocolate.

“Oh yes,” the Queen said, taunting the Grymm and ridiculing his chocolate lust. “I have learned it is very nice to nibble on a bit of chocolate between sips of Zinfandel. But only the dark chocolate. The milk and white chocolate varietals are an abomination.”

“You see, Majesty?” the Grymm said. “This human is changing you, shaping you. Influencing you. Humans - not plants and their byproducts – are our prey.”

“There is nothing wrong with a salad every now and then.”

“Did the human tell you that?”

“Maybe.”

“Most definitely. What is salad? Whatever it is, it is another example of the human influencing you directly, circumventing intermediaries such as the Grymm in their efforts – their duty - to protect your interests and the interests of the Horde. All Grymm desire nothing more than to continue serving and protecting you, to represent your personal will.”

“The Grymm Council fears that this human is replacing the Grymm in my esteem.”

“The human is dangerous,” The Elder repeated. “It adapted to our ways and learned the Olde Tongue far too quickly.”

“Yes, I found that surprising, and it is one of the reasons I did not kill and eat it,” the Queen said. “The human you fear is no threat to us. It is weak and vulnerable – but it is also valuable, if not for the only reason that it teaches us how the Dave thinks and plans. Did you know the human was an advisor to the Dave?” the Queen asked.

“I learned that, and it concerns me,” the Grymm Elder admitted. “We should kill it and then - according to our eldritch traditions - we should present its skull to the Dave, so that, although the Dave will hate us, he will respect us - and know that his friend is dead. If not, the Dave will mount a rescue attempt as honor requires, and he will attack at a time when we are most vulnerable, as is the human way.”

“There will be no rescue attempt,” the Queen said. “The Dave and his ‘Scooby Gang’ of warriors believe this human is dead.”

“I still fear this human, Your Majesty. My heart and soul tell me that we should kill it.”

“And I may, but not until I’ve learned all it knows.”

“I know you interrogate it,” the Elder said. “But so far the only information we’ve obtained is stories of the Dave’s unsuccessful coupling with a female human and the Dave’s hatred for a malevolent being called Vietch.”

“I am gaining the human’s confidence, securing his loyalty to me and to our cause,” the Queen explained.

“Perhaps some torture would increase the likelihood of a successful interrogation,” the Elder suggested.

“Torture is so inelegant,” the Queen retorted, derisively waiving her talons and flicking her tongues.

“’Inelegant?’ What does that mean?”

“Never mind.”

“Kill the human, my Queen! I beg you to kill it.”

“It is no threat. It is weak.”

“No longer. I am told that you have assigned him Minion and Thresh as attendants and a squad of Fangr to command.”

“There have been three attempts on the human’s life. I seek to protect a valuable asset.”

“You have allowed the human to arm his retainers with human weapons and to have them trained in their use by something referred to in whispers as ‘the Rhino.’” The Elder watched for the Queen’s reaction, to see if she, too, had heard these same terrified whispers.

“I am interested in human weapons,” the Queen said without betraying any of her internal thought process or emotions. “Human weapons have been effective against every class of daemon that serve me, every clan, every sect.”

“We can prevail against the humans without changing who we are, Majesty,” the Elder said. “The Grymm fear that, by allowing the human so much freedom to travel between here and the Above, by allowing him to arm his retainers, you make the human far too strong.”

“I smell jealousy,” the Queen said, soft laughter rumbling in her throat. One of her tongues flicked out of her mouth. “I taste fear,” she said. “You fear that the human is replacing the Grymm in the hierarchy of my court.”

“A hierarchy that has existed since the beginning,” the Elder said.

“Change may be necessary to conquer the Above and to retake our rightful place beneath the open sky.” The Queen paused. The Grymm Elder felt her thoughts probing his, pushing – not with any hope of breaking through – but for the simple pleasure that came from squeezing his mind like she would squeeze a fresh, still beating heart to lick its juices.

“Leave me now,” the Queen suddenly commanded.

The Grymm Elder turned and left the Queen’s parlor. In the cave corridor the Elder’s adjutant joined him as the Elder walked back to Grymm controlled territory.

“You heard?” The Elder asked.

“Yes. I heard,” the Elder’s adjutant whispered back.

“And your thoughts?”

“The Queen is lost to us.”

“We must kill the human at once,” the Elder insisted.

“I fear that can no longer be done.”

“Then what do you advise?” the Elder demanded.

“We should stop all attempts to assassinate the human,” the adjutant said.

“What? And let it continue to poison the Queen against the Grymm?”

“It is clear that has already happened,” the adjutant said. “Further unsuccessful attempts to kill the human will only reinforce the Queen’s attachment to her dangerous pet.”

“Then what can be done to rid us of this troublesome beast?” the Elder hissed between clenched fangs.

“Seek out the human,” the adjutant advised. “Form a false alliance. He is weak and greedy. We will promise him more than he receives from the Queen if he betrays the Queen.”

“And then?” the Elder asked.

“Approach the Sliveen and Hunn Council Elders and form a true alliance with each.”

“And the Scolari?”

“The Scolari will remain loyal to the Queen,” the adjutant predicted.

“Most likely, yes,” the Elder agreed. “But we don’t need the Scolari.”

“No, we do not. We will need the Sliveen and Hunn when the time comes,” the adjutant again advised. “When we are ready, we use the human and his Fangr and Thresh ‘strike force’ to overthrow the Queen. For her own good.”

“Then we kill the human,” the Elder said. The adjutant was silent, and the two continued to walk in silence.

“Have you heard of ‘durian?’” the Elder suddenly asked, breaking the silence between them.

“Yes,” the adjutant admitted. “It is said the scent of the durian is a perfumed aroma that rivals the delicious odors of the finest, oldest blood pots.”

“I have heard the same,” the Elder admitted.

“Perhaps,” the Elder suggested “perhaps we should not kill the human immediately.”

“I agree,” the adjutant quickly said. “The human must die, of course, but not until after we have assumed control over his trading network. Especially the one that provides bacon.”

“And chocolate,” the Elder said, fantasizing about plundering the Queen’s private larder, imagining durian, bacon and chocolate devoured together with abandon.

*** ***

The Queen watched the Grymm Elder leave her throne chamber. She watched as the Elder’s adjutant slithered up to whisper in the Elder’s ear. She watched them both walk into the darkness beyond.

A small human stepped out of the shadows behind the Queen’s throne rock.

“Did you hear?” the Low Queen asked.

“Yes, Majesty.”

“And your thoughts?”

“The Grymm plan rebellion,” the human stated.

“Your recommendations?”

“It is likely the Grymm Elder will seek a meeting with me in an attempt to persuade me to assist the Grymm to overthrow you,” the human began. “I will, of course, appear to cooperate, to accept their bribe, but only to learn all of what the Grymm plan so I can best advise you, my Queen.”

“Good,” the Queen said. “I approve. Is there more?”

“Continue to expand your trade connections with the Above,” the human advised. “Continue your efforts to establish diplomatic contact with competing human national factions. Continue your plan to modernize. You cannot retake the Above without modernizing. And continue to train and arm the thresh - who will be loyal only to you.”

“I will do as you advise,” the Queen said.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” the human said. “The Grymm will bow to your authority and adapt to the New World you engender. If not, they prove they are weak and are fit only as meat for the blood pots.”

The Low Queen was silent for a few moments, apparently deep in thought. Then she asked:

“Does this rock I am sitting on make my butt look big?”

“Absolutely not, Majesty. You are truly a vision of loveliness. Can I get you any more bacon? Perhaps some prosciutto crudo,” the human suggested.

“No, not now. Do you have any Ghirardelli chocolate? The kind with the gooey caramel centers. And some of that Zinfandel I drank yesterday.”

“The 2010 Ridge East Bench?” the Boylan asked.

“Yes, that is the one. Blood red, lots of spice, finely balanced. To die for.”

“I’m afraid we are out of that one, my Queen,” the human said and bowed his head. “The 2010 Ridge East Bench zin is popular Above and it is difficult for our agents to locate and purchase.”

“I remember that happening to the Brunello di Montalcino.” The Queen writhed in frustration. “It was soooo good. But you let it slip away forever. No amount of precious metals, gemstones or rare earths will procure more – because there isn’t any. And now I am deprived of the 2010 Ridge East Bench as well because you didn’t have the simple foresight to order enough.”

“I expect to receive more very soon, and my Thresh apprentices have just installed an electric cooler so that we can cellar as much as two cases at a time,” the human said.

“I am deeply disappointed,” the Queen rumbled. “I should eat you and be done with you. It would make everyone happy.”

“I have failed you, my Queen,” the human said, going down on one knee and baring his neck for the killing stroke.

“Don’t do that. Just don’t. I hate it when you do that. Everything’s fine.”

The human looked up at the Queen. “Everything’s fine?” he asked.

“Yes. Just fine,” the Queen said. “Look, I value your judgment in such things. Is there anything else available in sufficient quantity to satisfy my thirst?” the Queen asked.

“I have a lovely French Margaux I strongly recommend,” the Boylan suggested.

“Very well,” the Low Queen sighed. “I suppose I can make due.” She shifted her massive weight on her rock throne. “And maybe a little Virginia country ham. Nothing fancy; just a nosh.”

32 Responses to ‘Fanfest 2015. The Favourite, by Professor X Boylan’

Anthony ducks in to say...

Posted February 24, 2015
Boylan on Boylan?

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NBlob swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted February 24, 2015
Everyone deserves representation & counsel.

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insomniac asserts...

Posted February 24, 2015
Most excellent

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Sparty asserts...

Posted February 24, 2015
So woosy submitting copy BEFORE a deadline, I'm sticking to the end of month deadline, and now revising with Dave 2....

she_jedi mutters...

Posted February 25, 2015
I'm glad it's not just me rushing to meet that deadline. I'm resisting the urge to revise based on Dave 2, I'll never get it finished if I do.

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JG reckons...

Posted February 24, 2015
Bravo, Paul. An excellent story. Joanna

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she_jedi has opinions thus...

Posted February 24, 2015
"It is widely believed by humans throughout the Above that there is no such thing as too much bacon." By the Sky Lords that made my day.

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sibeen ducks in to say...

Posted February 24, 2015
Fuck you, Boylan...just FUCK YOU!!!

rips up carefully worked on and worded manuscript in disgust

I'll admit it, I won't be topping that.

Brilliant!

BTW, absolutely loved the Wolfram & Hart reference at the end. Bravo.

Paul_Nicholas_Boylan reckons...

Posted February 25, 2015
You don't have to top it. I can't win the prize. The only reason I lowered my personal standards enough to allow me to write "fiction" was my incorrect belief that my character was going to be killed off, and I hoped to give X new life by winning this contest. Now I know the character survives, so I can't gain anything except the inescapable knowledge that I debased myself for little more than the admiration of people who didn't notice any of my allusions to classical literature or the obvious and admirable fact that almost all of the dialogue is written in iambic pentameter blank verse. Oh, Homer! Oh, Virgil! Oh Dante! Oh, Milton! Oh, Goethe! Oh, Koontz! Mais où sont les neiges d'antan?

But I digress. Please don't let my poor attempt dissuade you from throwing your very large hat into the ring.

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Rhino would have you know...

Posted February 25, 2015
Original comment didn't work ... odd.
Bravo! Bravissimo, Herr Doktor Professor!
Outstanding job, Mr. Boylan. That was great!

Paul_Nicholas_Boylan swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted February 25, 2015
And the reference to "the Rhino?"

Rhino asserts...

Posted February 25, 2015
It only made me love you more...

Therbs has opinions thus...

Posted February 25, 2015
I might add that the dragon farts in the morning.

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Murphy would have you know...

Posted February 25, 2015
Reads very much like Charles Stross.
Excellent work, Professor X Boylan.
Respects,
Murph
On the Outer Marches

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Rhino reckons...

Posted February 25, 2015
I will have #TheDaveDeux on Friday.
So much for working.


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GhostSwirv ducks in to say...

Posted February 25, 2015

I despair of an Above where the Boylan is Chief Counsel to the Low Queen - is there any hope for humanity once X rewrites our destiny and commandeers all the bacon?

GhostSwirv over and out to continue redrafting, recrafting, redacting ... oh bollocks!

Paul_Nicholas_Boylan ducks in to say...

Posted February 25, 2015
Commandeer? No, purchase on the open bacon market. The Low Queen's money is as good as anyone's.

GhostSwirv reckons...

Posted February 25, 2015

The mind boggles at what currency the Low Queen is likely to trade in and what advice your X-ness has proffered as to a Share Portfolio of choice.

GhostSwirv ... still redacting, removes animal products from the menu.

Paul_Nicholas_Boylan swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted February 25, 2015
It isn't very difficult to convert precious metals and gems - which should be plentiful in the UnderRealms - into cash that can be deposited in banks around the world that specialize in laundering black cash (Bahamas, the Cayman Islands, the Cook Islands Israel, Lebanon, Panama, the Philippines, Russia, etc.). Once cash is legitimized the rest is intuitive, with buying political influence as the central goal.

I would advise the Low Queen to invest in tech stocks (3d printer tech in particular) and the emerging markets that are poised to replace China as the source of cheap labour for manufacturing (Mexico, Peru, Vietnam, Indonesia, Kenya, Tanzania, etc.)

GhostSwirv mumbles...

Posted February 25, 2015

You really do have the campaign all figured out, ... don't you?

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she_jedi swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted February 25, 2015
Oh happy day! Just discovered I now have an extension on my Roman essay, which now gives me time to finish the Dave, my Dave fanfic, and yeah, my uni assignment. Hooray!

It's just as well because fictional Boylan kept me up way past my bedtime last night being all wildly entertaining and shit, and now I'm paying for it. Do you really look like a Klingon, or is JB just messing with you? :)

Lulu mutters...

Posted February 25, 2015
"Dave, my Dave fanfic, and yeah, my uni assignment"
Heh, I like the order of importance there.

Bondiboy66 swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted February 25, 2015
Perhaps a slightly smaller Klingon, with far less facial protrusions.
btw - you dun rite goodly Prof.

Paul_Nicholas_Boylan mutters...

Posted February 25, 2015
Yes. I look like a Klingon. Imagine a short, long armed, hairy Brad Pitt with a bumpy skull.

sibeen swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted February 25, 2015
Brad Pitt?


Shakes head and wanders off in disbelief.

Paul_Nicholas_Boylan would have you know...

Posted February 26, 2015
Despite the Brad Pitt comparison, the image is nevertheless fairly repulsive, especially if you add the part about having connecting eyebrows, being bald, overweight, and having a penchant for spontaneous nosebleeds.

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Brother PorkChop swirls their brandy and claims...

Posted February 25, 2015
Choice Bro. Very choice.

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Surtac has opinions thus...

Posted February 25, 2015
Beautiful work, Professor.

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Blarkon would have you know...

Posted February 25, 2015
's a pity that Professor X Boylan is kicking arse and taking names in Dave 2: Boylan Boogaloo.

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Therbs ducks in to say...

Posted February 26, 2015
A well put together piece Paul. I liked it a lot.

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MickH is gonna tell you...

Posted February 27, 2015
Golf clap for the proffWell done sir, well done.

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Respond to 'Fanfest 2015. The Favourite, by Professor X Boylan'