Dudley Was A Buysexual

…mostly because it was just easier that way.

.

.

The Doclopedia #1,572

A Tale Of Six Wands: The Wand Of Seeking
.

Good morning once again, dear Tenna. When I was told that you had left early to take yesterday’s story to a no doubt panicked Theramachus, I took the liberty of heading out on yet more errands of my own.

He did? Hahahaha! I would have given a tenmoon to see his face. But he did send the proper bag of money, so everything is right.

I trust the room provided for you was satisfactory? Oh, really, you praise my humble household too much. It was the least I could do, since the hour was so late and Foxnight is often a less than safe time to be about. Now, let us have tea and begin today’s tale. I believe Prindeep has brewed us up some of the lovely Red Mountain Black today.

I would love for this tale to be about how complex and difficult it is to create a Wand of Seeking, but the fact is they are utterly common and made in batches of up to 30 at a time. Only a Wand of Light is more common.


As you perhaps know, Wands of Seeking are most commonly used by adventurers for locating everything from loot to monsters to traps. They are also a common item among city guards and rural patrols, most often to locate a guilty party or a lost child. The wands have long lasting charges and are quite versatile. Of course, versatility means a reduction in effective distance, so most such wands seldom reach out more than about 90 feet.

However, the Wand of Seeking I was asked to make needed to be very specific indeed. It also needed a very great range, as much as 20 miles. Why? Because the Six Saviors knew that somebody was behind the expansion of the Ostugar Giant Lands. Somebody not a Giant, whom we know now to be a fellow called Histeen the Mad, an outcast from the far Al’Anak’a Islands. Praise the gods he was utterly destroyed, and by the hand of the very Giants he had whipped into a frenzy of hate and bloodlust.

The components of the wand were of the usual type, but the construction process was slower and more intense. In addition, the breath of 100 hounds and the eyes of a Great Eagle (taken from a corpse that died of old age) were infused into it. Certain oils and bindings made of rare metals were used to limit the wand to 5 charges. Finally, it was rested in the crypt of Duliman the Explorer for a fortnight. Then, it was ready.

Activated, the wand would produce a line of red light visible only to the user. That line would extend out 20 miles in a straight line toward the objective. I am told that it took all five charges to finally locate Histeen, who was 150 miles behind enemy lines in a small castle, now completely gone and replaced by a meadow.

And that is all to that story, Tenna. Tomorrow’s story, I assure you, will be quite different, since it involves the creation of the single most dangerous wand anyone of my profession has ever made.

Until then, let us enjoy lunch and then, once you have dropped the story off with Theramachus and gotten payment, perhaps you would care to join me on a boat ride along the Border Canal? It will take a few hours, after which we could have dinner at a wonderful Syballan restaurant I know of. After that, perhaps a visit to the Royal Night Garden?

You will? My heart swells with joy! Now, let us see what tasty delights Prindeep has for us.
.

.

The Doclopedia #1,573

A Tale Of Six Wands: The Wand Of Wild Magic
.

Oh…oh my. I…I… Oh, please do excuse me if I stumble on my apology. I mean, it has been many years since something like this has happened and I assure you it was not my intention to…

Seduced me? I…what? I…did you? I must admit that I drank a bit too much guarit last night, so things are hazy, but…seduced? You seduced me? Yes, yes, I admit that I have never been seduced before. My life these last 150 years have been mostly about my work and business. When feminine companionship was needed, I simply went to the red lantern street. True, I was married when I was young. We had fifty years together, but…seduced? Why?

I, well, yes, you are beautiful and young and your body is delightfully formed, but that is my point. You are young and even though I look a fraction of my actual age, I am still an old man. Surely you could find…

Well, of course I find you interesting beyond your physical beauty. You are at the very least my intellectual equal, if not possessed of the same amount of lifetime learning. Indeed, you have taught me much about the arts, recent politics and the life of ordinary people. I find myself missing you when you are not…well, there we have it then. It has been so very long that I forgot what it was like and how it might happen.

You do? Are you sure? I am truthfully nearing the end of this life, so our years together would be few. My business has been sold these last 5 years to Murgin and Ranoe, and while I am well of, we would…

No? None of that matters to you? I…oh my, I find myself bereft of words.

Thank you, Prindeep. Yes, it has been a most interesting morning. Tell me, old friend, do you think us foolish? Love so late for me and early for her? She is but 25 and I, well, we both know I am near unto worn out. Yes, one cannot argue with love, though people often do. Yes, as always, you are right. Accept the path we are on and enjoy the view. Wise words.

Ah, there is the bell! Go admit her and bring in that bag of gold.

So, my dear, let me tell you the tale of the fifth Wand of Glory. It is indeed a strange one.

First of all, you need to know that creating a Wand of Wild Magic is both an insane undertaking and, as anyone who studies magic now will tell you, impossible. Naturally, my much younger self took this as a personal challenge.

Wands of Time Travel are incredibly tricky to construct, highly unstable and given to a limited amount of power. A person successfully using one might go back as far as a century, stay for an hour, then be jerked back into their proper time, most likely to be sick to their stomach for an hour or so. I needed to go back 4,000 years. You can see the problem.

Fortunately, there lived in Jal a member of my profession who was quite obsessed with time travel. Kaneera Lal lived some miles outside the city of Sotsomo, her nearest neighbors wisely living more than a mile from her. Her estate boundaries were easy to spot, being covered in a light early winter snow when the rest of this part of the world was sweating through mid-summer.

At first, she was highly suspicious of me, but once I told her of what I needed, she became quite eager to help me. As we walked into what she called the “Deep Basement”, I was slightly unnerved by the fact that she was slowly becoming younger. Despite the fact that she had appeared at least 80 when she had answered my knock on her door, she looked no more than 16 by the time we reached our destination.

Said destination was no less that a constantly shifting sphere of multicolored lights that Kaneera informed me was a “time warp portal”. As she puttered about looking for a Wand of Destination, she laid out the rules for time travel.

1: Each layer of colored light I would go through represented a century. Stopping for anything over 5 seconds would reset the color bands to decades, then months, then days, then hours.

2: I would have up to 10 hours in the past before popping back into the present.

3: Don’t worry about changing history, because you can’t.

4: Avoid all other time travelers. She was most insistent about this one.

After using the Wand of Destination to show me a clear path to the city of Peskandar, some 4,200 years in the past, I stepped into the portal and began my journey of 42 steps.

Oh, no, the actual walk through the portal was quite easily done. I was surprised by that. Like you, I felt that there would be enormous forces assaulting me, but such was not the case. It was no different that walking across an empty street.

I stopped in the 42nd band of light, a pleasant light orange, and waited a few seconds until it split into 10 decades. Not being picky, I stopped in the third decade, awaited the years, then went for the fifth year, sixth month, tenth day.

I emerged into the very busy market of a large city on a warm spring day. Seeing a merchant dealing in magical charms, I went over to him and inquired where I might find the most powerful wizard in the city. He merely pointed to a tower that rose above all else, including the grand castle on the hill. I thanked him and tossed him a silver piece.

The tower proved to be over two miles distant, but still well within the city walls. At least 500 feet tall, the tower seemed to be made of a single piece of stone, the exact type of which I could not determine. The base was about 200 feet across and surrounded by a low wall and a beautiful little garden. There was no gate under the entry arch.

No sooner had I walked through from the street to the garden, than a small being, perhaps 3 feet high, stepped out the front door of the tower. He looked like a vastly more civilized version of the Forest Kobits one sees in the Western Lands.

“Greetings, Vanderas of Geshpar. The Master has been expecting you. Please, follow me.”

Stunned though I was by being known to these people, I followed him into the first floor room, which seemed to be half waiting room and half indoor garden. My companion, whose name was Dolbo, showed me to a large round red carpet in the very center of the room, above which was a shaft that looked to run all the way to the top. He instructed me to stand in the center and enjoy the ride. A moment later, I was racing upward at a very high speed.

The carpet slowed and then stopped in a finely appointed room that had four large open arches leading out to a balcony that encircled the room. In a large and comfortable looking chair sat a man whom I supposed was my host. He looked no more than 30, but then, I do not look 345, do I? If I were to describe his looks, I would call them handsome, in a rugged way.

It is now time for me to be somewhat vague about our conversation, which took up most of my remaining hours. His name was Deron and he was the High Wizard for a vast empire. Of course, I knew this because his legend lives on today, albeit only to a very few scholars of magic and ancient history.

He poured tea and let me know that he knew of me simply because the entire city was ensorceled to let him know if a new mage or purveyor of magic entered it. When I told him what I needed, he nodded and said he would fetch everything and have it ready before I left.

From there on, we spoke of the past, the future and many things that probably should not be spoken of at all. He seemed quite unconcerned by the coming loss of magic as he knew it, telling me only that magic comes and goes over time, so it does naught to worry. He also told me that wands were not a bad way to go, magicwise, since they could make anyone a user of magic without “interminable years of serving under a Master Wizard with delusions of grandeur”.

Shortly before my 10 hours were up, we were brought a long thin crystal of pure wild magic, as well as a few other things. I thanked him and then, just a few seconds later, appeared in Kaneera’s Deep Basement. The old girl herself was asleep on a sofa, snoring loudly and unable to be awakened by my best efforts. I scribbled a note to her and then left.

Five days later, I was standing in a cow pasture just two miles outside the walls of Geshpar. It was quite late at night and both moons were full. After a short wait, I saw a shooting star hurtling toward me. It slowed and slowed again until a black and pitted steel cylinder came to rest gently on the ground a few yards from me. A quick wave of a Wand of Opening caused a door to open and allowed me to retrieve the package containing the wild magic and other items. I then mounted my horse and rode home. The cylinder was found by the farmer the next day and is still on display at the Geshparan Museum of Oddities.

The rest of the story is barely…what? Oh, I am sorry. Let me explain. You see, I could not bring anything back through time that I did not take with me. Hiding the package away for over 4,000 years was also out of the question, since all the magic would be drained. Therefore, Deron simply sent the steel cylinder to the Small Moon, since nothing beyond our world was affected by the magic leaving. A timing spell brought it back to me at the appointed date and time. Quite a tidy solution, if you ask me.

Anyway, the rest of the story is quick to tell. I constructed the wand easily, it was used in the Great Battle to devastating effect and the rest truly is history.

Now, my love, what say you to a long hot bath together before dinner? Excellent!

.

.

Become a Patron!

 

Who Put The Rocket Fuel In Mrs. Murphy’s Swimming Pool?

…and by “rocket fuel”, I mean bourbon.

.

.

After The Change Came

Series 4

A Day For Hangin’ With My Homeboys


Every couple of years, the Green Ladies put on a “Females Gathering Together Day”, during which sapient females of all species gather in large numbers to…well, I’m not 100% sure, being cis male and therefore gently, but firmly, excluded. From what I have gleaned from being around a Green Lady and lots of other women (including daughters, granddaughters and sisters), it seems to be mostly discussions about things particular to females, plus examinations of world events. Whatever the case, females of all ages go, meaning that, for an entire day and part of a night, we males are left to our own devices, hopefully not going feral in the process.

So, the latest “F.G.T.D.” was a couple of days ago and I figured, why not have some of the guys over and hang out? I called up Dad, Sin, my troll buddy Jim, Roscoe, Nick, my cousin Rob, my gnome brother Hank (the others live to far away), and my elf neighbor Dendro, and invited them over. They all showed up and since the weather was great, we set up shop in the front yard (the backyard being Grace’s garden retreat) and settled in for beer, bullshittin’ and burgers.

Will loves hanging with his Grandpa and soon had Dad telling stories about me and my sibs when we were growing up and still human. This, of course, lead to stories from Dad’s youth, at least those suitable for a 7 year old to hear. From there, it was stories from everyone’s youth, most of which were hilarious, embarrassing or both. Will was particularly interested in the stories Sin and I told about our years at Hobart’s School For Young Ladies & Gentlemen, again, edited for younger listeners.

After a couple of hours of storytelling that got improved by about 4 mugs of Jim’s “Damn Fine” ale, we moved on to discussing everything from the weather to beer brewing to hog farming to good fishing spots in the foothills. Nick, sensing that some of these topics were boring Will, took him in the house for a couple of hours playing a new QuestWorld scenario from Portugal, “Pirate Heist”.

When it came time to eat, Ben, our House Elf, did not disappoint. It was a hell of a spread, with burgers of several types, all the toppings and condiments you’d want, and Ben’s delicious chili lime steak fries. I had a double cheeseburger with Brie and Gouda, topped with fire roasted chilis. Okay, I had two of those. Don’t judge me.

After lunch, and with most of us now well lubricated by beer, we got back into discussing all sorts of things for an hour or so before Ben busted out the ice cream. It was, of course, delicious. Thus fortified, we busted out the musical instruments and started playing everything from classic Pre-Change country and rock to some of the latest hits. There was also a good deal of just plain old jamming.

Around about sundown, Ben produced the taco bar and we all once again ate like starving wolverines. From there, it was another hour or so of talking before everyone headed for home. I put Will to bed and then promptly fell asleep on the sofa in the living room.

About 3 hours later, a cute little green face woke me up saying “Daddy, you need to go to bed now!”, so I did.

All told, it was a fine day of male bonding. And none of us went feral!

More blogging soon.

Doc Tempest And The Secret Of The Vampire’s Tomb

…from the May, 1927 issue

.

After The Change Came

Series 4

Feeling Old In Dog Years


This Friday, my four kids graduate from college. That is on top of them all turning 9 years old a couple of weeks ago. I’m feeling a bit old here, folks. Now, at 19, I’ve still got a few decades to go, but these are our babies all grown up and graduating college here. Gigi and I have been alternately smiling and misty eyed. Now I know how mom & dad felt when Lily and I left home.

Well, actually, except for the fact that Lily and I left home years apart and I only moved like, 150 feet away when I got married and…well, we weren’t a litter of four who actually all moved out 4 years ago. June lives over in Davis and April & May are in Berkeley and Nick is still here in Sacramento, so it’s not like they are scattered to the four winds. Yet.

That “yet” is the big thing, see. April will be moving on to Oxford in the fall and May is off to an art institute in Paris and June is moving to Kaua’i to do botanical research and Nick…well, okay, Nick isn’t moving anywhere, but he recently got an apartment with his girlfriend, Vicki, so there’s that bit of adulthood to deal with. It’s just a lot to have happen to poor old Mom & Dad.

Those of you out there with empty nests and grown kids are probably chuckling knowingly. You can bet my parents are, and have been for weeks. I fully intend to do my own chuckling when Will & Gin leave home in about 11 years.

Of course, having the kids move out has freed up lots of space in the house, although two of their bedrooms are still bedrooms. Our grocery bill plummeted the day they all left home, although it spikes during holidays. All other bills went down, too. Education at all levels is free and the kids have no problem living within their yearly government allotment, so that is a good thing.

It did take us months to get used to the house being so quiet.

Anyway, this Friday will be all about their big day and parties to celebrate and family and friends congratulating them. They’ll all come home for a month, then split for their various destinations. Gigi and I could not be prouder of them. We will miss them, though.

Thanks for listening to an old hound deal with a milestone, folks. Next time, I’ll have something lighter to blog about.

Roscoe

Spaniels In The Pot

…not for cooking

.

.

LETTERS FROM SISTER BOMIA

 

Dear Sister Arilloni,

I hope all is going well at the abbey. Did Sister Grek ever get over her cold? I hope so. Colds are bad enough for we mammals, but for the reptilian folk, they are much worse.

My vacation is still going very well and I have made a few new friends. One of them is a young apprentice wizard from Wurania. Her name is Metaphita and she is just a delight to be around. By turns she is a very serious young student of magic and a young woman who has not spent a lot of time in the wider world. She can be a bit overwhelmed at times, so I try to offer her advice and information and friendship. It seems to help.

Speaking of new friends, I made the acquaintance of a Valdurian gentleman named Aksel Tronin. He’s a former member of the Silver Falcons adventuring company, where he was a swordsman. He’s quite charming and handsome and still quite the swordsman, if you get my meaning. We have spent several evenings and mornings together.

I’ve made several trips into the countryside with different groups. We have been bird watching, flower picking and generally just enjoying the natural world that the Mother Goddess has provided. With the exception of an encounter with some thorncats, all of the excursions have been peaceful and relaxing.

I must go now. Metaphita and I are signed on to a tour of some ruins that the Royal Society of Exploration recently discovered about 20 miles outside the city. It should be interesting. Give my regards to everyone.

Your friend,

Bomia

 

Dark Secrets Of The Dog Park

…mostly, they’re about eating poop
.

.

After The Change Came

Series 4

A Day For Books And Walking


Greetings, Dear Readers. I’m back for another entry in the blog. Today, I’ll be telling you about my action packed yesterday. Well, action packed if you call a 24 mile walk to a used book store “action packed”. In point of fact, it was a pretty mellow day.

My favorite used book store here in the Sacramento area is Booktown Used Books, which is just about 12 miles from here, near downtown. It has been in that location since 1928. Arliss Brantner owns it and he is the 4th generation of his family to do so. It’s the largest bookstore in Northern California. The fantasy/science fiction section alone is twice the size our our living room, and our living room is big.

So, with the kids in school and Grace puttering around the house, I set off walking to Booktown. The weather has been great lately, with the spring rains mostly behind us and the summer heat a few weeks away. As I’ve said before, after the Change, downtown Sacramento was moved away from the rivers (American & Sacramento) to a spot 6 miles northeast and now high enough to never flood. As with all cities, towns & villages in the world, we have a Ring Road running in a perfect circle around town. It is located exactly 15 miles out from Sacramento’s Central Tower, where our City Dragon lives.

30 roads and streets run out from city center to the Ring Road. Grace and I live on Greenback Lane, one of the main roads. It meanders like a river toward downtown. Lots of curves, up and down hill, passing through our many greenbelts and farms and residential areas. It’s a nice walk.

Actually, almost all roads in Sacramento meander. There are very few that run straight for more than a mile or two. I probably ought to also point out that you’ll see very few cars on the road. People walk, ride bikes or horses or other animals, roller skate/skateboard, ride flying carpets (Mahmoud’s Enchanted Carpets has, like, 9 locations), or take the anibuses, which run every 15 minutes.

So there I am, at 8:00 in the morning, walking along, breathing the fresh air and enjoying the sunshine. Birds are singing in the trees, bunnies & squirrels and other wildlife are out doing their thing. I see neighbors tending their gardens or livestock. A few are just sitting on their porches, drinking their morning beverage. Other folks are walking along, including one young couple who are going on a picnic outside the city limits.

I’ve mentioned in the past that Ring Roads also double as city boundaries. They are enchanted to keep dangerous creatures or sapients out, and to a lesser extent mitigate really bad weather, wildfires and earthquakes. That’s why San Francisco will never again have a really terrible earthquake.

I tend to walk a bit faster than most non-mutant humans, so even pausing frequently to look at things or talk to folks or buy a peach milkshake at Bonnie’s Burgers, I’m doing 5 miles an hour. As with any city or town, the closer you get to downtown, the more urban things get. Now, that does not mean houses crammed right next too each other, since by law every home in California has to sit on at least half an acre of land and all urban areas must have extensive greenbelts. That latter is why you often see deer or even elk strolling through our downtown.

At just about the 2.5 hour mark, I reach Booktown. This may well be my 1,000th time there, since I’ve been going there for decades. My first visit was in 1970, a couple of months after I got my driver’s license. It was while I was on Easter break from Hobart’s School for Young Ladies & Gentlemen and on that visit, I bought about 30 books to take back with me, mostly pulp reprints.

Arliss and his wife, Olive, gave me a hearty greeting and advised me that they had gotten in about 5,000 books a week earlier that were now on the shelves. I grabbed a complimentary cup of tea and started looking around. Arliss had British Invasion rock & roll playing and coconut incense burning. Despite being born in 1985, Arliss and Olive are a couple of hippies.

90 minutes later I had a stack of 40 books and magazines, including the British mag “QuestWorld Spectator”, issues 1-4. I paid for them, said goodbye to the Brantners and left the shop to go grab some lunch. On my way to a great Indian buffet, I put the books on Ralph, a dogbus that runs up Fair Oaks Blvd to the Ring Road. He transferred them to Fancy, a bunnybus who transferred them to Waldo, another dogbus. Waldo dropped them off at our front gate and Ben, our main House Elf, transported them to our library.

After a wonderful lunch of Indian food and a mug of pale ale, I began my walk home. I decided to use the footpaths found in the greenbelts and had a great time birdwatching, looking at and talking to various animals, and generally grooving on nature. The walk home took 3.5 hours and when I arrived at the old homestead, I was greeted by the twins and their friends. They were making up a game that I won’t even try to explain, but for about 10 minutes, I was a moving goal post.

Once I got into the house and sat down, Ben showed up with a cold iced tea. After I finished the tea, I was considering a short nap. This plan was abandoned when my green skinned hottie of a wife came and sat on my lap and whispered saucy suggestions in my ear. Later, we ate dinner with the kids and then played some dice games.

All in all, a pretty damned great day.

More bloggage later.

Doc

The Belatedly Retconned, But Well Crafted, Story Of Mostly Purple Patty And The Blogger Who Forgot Things

…co-starring her favorite dwarf hamster, Ferdinand

The Doclopedia #1,423

Dangerous Dames: Rita Lincoln

Name: Rita Lincoln
Aliases: None
Age: 25
Hair: Blue & Green Eyes: Green
Height: 5’4” Weight: 100 lbs
Last Known Address: San Francisco, California
Crimes: Murder, Kidnapping, Grand Theft, Arson

Summary: Rita Lincoln was born in Reno, Nevada to a blackjack dealer and an auto salesman. She became a political activist in high school before joining the Rainbow Raiders, a well known and dangerous domestic terrorist group. She quickly rose to become the leader of the group.

The Rainbow Raiders are known for dying their hair two colors and wearing brightly colored clothing. They strike quickly, commit assorted mayhem, then disappear. They operate mostly on the West Coast, but have struck in Texas, New York, Illinois and Florida. They are responsible for the assassination of 3 US Senators, 1 Supreme Court Justice, 7 billionaires and the Mayor of Los Angeles. They are known to use firearms, explosives and in one instance, nerve gas. They should be considered armed and extremely dangerous.

Rita Lincoln is a marksman and skilled in several martial arts. She is a fanatic dedicated to radical environmentalism and feminism. She is known to favor broadcasting assassinations live on television and the internet. Experts have stated that she is the most dangerous sociopath they have ever seen. There is a $10,000,000 reward for her capture alive.

The Billionaire Dog’s Journal

…it’s printed on gold pages

New Doclopedia theme! WOOHOO!

 

The Doclopedia #1,422

Dangerous Dames: Lily Martin

Name: Lily Martin
Aliases: Lily Moran, Lily Magellan
Age: 33
Hair: Black Eyes: Brown
Height: 5’9” Weight: 140 lbs
Last Known Address: Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada
Crimes: Murder, Grand Theft

Summary: Lily Martin was born in Halifax, Nova Scotia to a well to do family. Somewhere around her 14th birthday she ran off with her 16 year old boyfriend, Ken Redding. For two years, they lived in and around Ontario, where they got involved in a criminal gang. When Redding was caught by the police stealing a car, Martin left town and headed into the United States. Records of her life and whereabouts for the next 5 years are extremely spotty, although she is known to have spent time in Boston, New York and St. Louis.

At age 21 it is known that Lily Martin, using the name Lily Moran, took part in and probably masterminded the Texas Rancher’s Bank heist. The sophistication of the crime had federal agents convinced that it must have been done by much older career criminals, until a chance recording by a department store security camera proved them wrong.

Two years later, an art heist in San Diego, was recorded in full by two cameras not listed on the art gallery’s blueprints. Lily Martin and a gang of 5 other women are clearly shown in it. Three of those women were caught within a month, but the stolen paintings have yet to be recovered.

Five years and at least two heists later, a woman going by the name Lily Magellan shot and killed one Pietro Guinelli in a restaurant in Seattle while he was having dinner with 18 year old Karen Taggert. The killer shot Guinelli four times in the chest, then told Taggert she had done her a favor. She then told everyone to “sit very still and be very quiet for 5 minutes” before she left. She made her escape and has not been seen since.

As of today, Lily Martin remains at large. There is a 1.25 million dollar reward for her capture. Law enforcement officers are urged to consider her armed and dangerous.

Was the above bit of writing interesting to you? Well then, consider become a Patron of this blog! Besides being one of the cool kids and getting to read fun stuff, you get sweet compiled Doclopedia posts in the popular PDF format, plus other exclusive stuff, like five versions of the same tavern. You can get in on this for as little as one dollar a month, so click the link and check it out.

Note: Some PDFs available only at the $3.00 level.

Support this blog on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DocCross

Module L-2: The Creepy Village Of Ploom

…for characters of level 2 to 3.

 

The Doclopedia #1,418

Don’t Touch That!: Girl

I’m sorry, sir, but that girl is available only for very special customers. You see, she’s cursed with both the ability to induce the most legendary orgasms in a man, but then drain their life force, killing them.

Oh, no, sir, it’s a fair question. You see, when a man is very old, or perhaps near to death from some malady, they will seek out Katya to send them off to their reward in as happy and thrilling a manner as one might ask for.

Yes, she could do the same for convicts who face the noose, but why would she? Such men deserve what they get. Besides, her rates are quite high, well beyond most convicts.

Yes, she is quite happy. She has found her place in life and I assure you, she lives quite well when not here at work. Oh, my, there is one of her customers now. Mr. Yancey is wealthy, but his heart is weak and faltering. A shame, really, since he’s barely 40.

Now, come along and let me introduce you to Lucy. I think you’ll find her to be quite charming.

The Doclopedia #1,419

Don’t Touch That!: Pistol

Don’t go for it, Kid. You’ll be dead before that pistol leaves your leather. That goes for you, too, Luis. Just keep your hands on the table. I didn’t come here for anybody but Kid McKay, so if you don’t get jumpy, you’ll go on living.

That’s right, Kid, I’m a U.S. Marshall now. After you killed my brother and those other two men, I wanted to just hunt you down and kill you. I wanted that real bad. But Marshall Cogburn, who is outside with your drunken pal Clay under his boot, convinced me to go the legal route and see you on the end of a rope instead. Now get up real slow with your hands above your head.

BANG!

Well now, that was stupid for two reasons. First, because you thought I’d kill you, and second because now you’ll be going to jail with a useless right hand. Not that you’ll have much use for it once thay slip the rope on you. Now let’s go.

Was the above bit of writing interesting to you? Well then, consider become a Patron of this blog! Besides being one of the cool kids and getting to read fun stuff, you get sweet compiled Doclopedia posts in the popular PDF format, plus other exclusive stuff, like five versions of the same tavern. You can get in on this for as little as one dollar a month, so click the link and check it out.

Note: Some PDFs available only at the $3.00 level.

Support this blog on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DocCross

Chapter 551: In Which Our Hero, Now Laden With Gold And Kitchenware, Takes His Dog To London

…the dog’s name is Ramon

 

THREE…YES, THREE…DOCLOPEDIA POSTS! I spoil you guys, I really do.

The Doclopedia #1,415

Don’t Touch That!: Sword

Stay your hand there, Brandis. Unless I’m wrong, and I seldom am, that is Nightbreaker, the cursed sword of Lord Yorgon. Stand back and let me identify it properly.

Oh yes, this is Nightbreaker alright. An incredibly powerful weapon, much feared by demons and other creatures of the Deep Darkness. With it, Lord Yorgon almost single handedly defeated the Legions of Hauzatlani. Caused the sword to glow with the brightness of 7 suns. Reduced the demons to a fine ash, including Hauzatlani itself. A great day for the world, but not for Lord Yorgon. His sword arm was burned off up to the elbow, he was blinded and driven insane. When he died some hours later, the sword flew into the sky and has not been seen until today.

I suggest we cover it with stones and detritus, then leave it here. I shell make a note of this location, in case demonic forces ever invade our world again.

The Doclopedia #1,416

Don’t Touch That!: Doorknob

Stop, Watson! Do not touch that doorknob under any circumstances. If you do, you’ll die.

I’m sorry for giving you such a start, old man, but I noticed a sheen of oil coating the surface just here. Do you see it? Yes, not very easy to see. Thankfully, my torch hit it from just the right angle. Now, let us see if it smells of anything.

Ah yes, a very noticeable scent of apples. Watson, what we have here is the sap of the New Guinea Death Fig, a small bush that produces a poisonous sap capable of killing a man in under a minute. A very nasty way to die, too. The skin begins to dissolve while the toxins cause the blood to break down. Yes, a terrible way to die indeed.

Now, let’s just use this mass of old rags to open the door. Be vigilant, Watson, for I have no doubt that Fu Manchu has much worse than this awaiting us.

The Doclopedia #1,417

Don’t Touch That!: Meteorite

DON’T TOUCH THAT! Jesus, Johnny, have you forgotten what happened two years ago when that old man touched a meteorite? That blob thing came out of it and killed him! Then it started growing bigger and pretty soon it had eaten about a hundred people and was trying to take over the town.

You’d better back the hell away from it. Now, let’s go find Sheriff Clark and have him call the Army to deal with this. They’ll know what to do with it. Hey, maybe we’ll get a reward or something. My car could use a new set of tires.

I’m Back

…thank you for all your condolences about Silky

 

Confessions Of A Time Traveler

 

Holmes, Sweet Holmes

 

One of the big problems of jumping around time, space and alternate realities is that you very often meet people out of what some would call proper chronological order. No example points this out better than my long relationship with the Sherlock Holmes of Earth 199-D.

Earth 199-D, starting around 1830, is a more steampunk world than ours. The laws of physics are a bit looser to accommodate things like giant steam mecha and cities beneath the sea. There are no fantasy races or creatures, but there are lost civilizations, cryptids and odd powerful ancient relic. The whole world is just a lot more adventure filled.

Things on that earth are also much more egalitarian than they were (or are) on our Earth. Seeing women or people of color in positions of power is pretty common. And that leads us to Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective and his wife, Jenny Watson Holmes, Freelance Inventor.We’ll just let that sink in a bit.

So, to speed things up, Sherlock’s mother was Spanish, his older brother Mycroft is less fat and more entwined in the workings of the Empire, John Watson still writes up Sherlock & Jenny’s adventures (from his home in London), Jenny and Sherlock married young and they live on a cattle ranch east of Oakland, California, with their 5 children and Jenny’s mum.

Now, I first met the Holmes’ when I accidentally fell through a time portal into a warehouse in New York City in 1881. No sooner had I landed upon a very large and soft pile of wool blankets than a strong feminine hand clasped itself over my mouth and a Scottish tinged voice said “Please be quiet, Doc, or you’ll get Sherlock killed”.

Having become pretty used to weird shit happening to me over the years, I nodded and she let me go. Standing up, I saw a slightly taller than usual woman dressed in boots, trousers and a black cotton shirt. Her hair was red and cut in a bob. She was very pretty, but not beautiful. She had a bit of grease on her cheek.

Obviously, she knew me pretty well, because after a second, she hugged me and told me in a whisper how glad she was to see me again. After the hug, she brought me up to speed on things, sort of.

It seems that I had met Sherlock first when he was a boy, then again just before their wedding. The current time was 8 years after the wedding and Sherlock had let himself be taken prisoner by Professor Moriarty so he could find out about Moriarty’s latest plot. Now, she told me, was the time to rescue Holmes and give Moriarty his comeuppance.

A couple of minutes later, as the Napoleon of Crime raised his hand to shoot Holmes with a “freezing ray”, Jenny shot two of his henchmen with some sort of electrical tommy gun while I ran forward and body slammed Moriarty into a heavy wooden container. A couple of punches later and he was out cold and his other two henchmen had run off at full speed into the waiting arms of the police.

Jenny released her husband from his bonds and then HE gave me a big hug.Then he kicked the awakening Moriarty in the head. I was processing everything that had just happened when the two of them started laughing.

“Oh Doc”, Jenny said, “The look on your face is priceless!”

“You might want to close your mouth, old friend. There are flies about.” Having said that, Sherlock laughed in what was, to me at least, a totally unHolmesian manner.

After another minute, they composed themselves and we set about tying up Moriarty and his thugs. We then loaded them into an impressive looking steam touring car and carted them off to police headquarters where Sherlock explained that Moriarty had planned to rob the North American Diamond Exchange later that night and make off with ten million dollars in diamonds. The police commissioner thanked us all profusely and then we left for the Holmes’ hotel suite to clean up before going out to dinner.

Along the way, Sherlock explained to me that I would meet him again when he was 10 years old and away at school. I would talk with him and give him some insight on both girls and doing what you loved to do in life. Apparently, that set him off on his adult path.

The second time I would meet him was two days before he and Jenny’s wedding at age 18. He was a bit vague about that meeting “so as not to spoil the surprises”, but it seems I had told him about meeting him tonight, which is why Jenny and the big pile of wool blankets were ready for me.

Like I said, time travel is seldom really linear. Or, as the other guy said, it’s all wibbly wobbly.

The rest of the evening was filled with a sort of mostly one sided chatting between old friends if one of those friends had just met you. It was a bit strange, but a couple of bottles of champagne smoothed things out. They were and are two wonderful people.

As we walked out to the car, Jenny again hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

“It was so very good to see you again, Doc. Give our love to Grace and the critters.”

Then it was Sherlock’s turn to give me a hug and shake my hand.

“So long, my dear friend. I look forward to seeing you again sometime, hopefully much less surprised.”

And then a time portal opened under me and I fell into the swimming pool on the Bus. From another room I heard Sasha yell, “Softest landing I could think of on short notice, Daddy”.

I was home.

The Big Election Night, But After The Polls Closed, Story Of Mostly Purple Patty And The Whiny GOP Snowflakes

…co-starring her pet jerboa, Earline
.

DOG ON

.

.

So way back in 2012, at the age of 60, I got hit by a car, killed and reincarnated as a yellow Labrador Retriever. I wrote about it in my January 27th, 2012 post, but I figured you folks might want to know what happened next.

After I had chatted with Winker and Lucy, I left the house I was killed at and stopped a crazy son of a bitch from attacking a woman. I bit him, he ran into the street and a fire truck ran him over. He didn’t die, but he’ll never attack anyone again. Or eat solid food.

My cat friend Al and I made our way up the west coast to Seattle, where I checked in on some friends from my human days. It took us months to get there, mostly because I kept helping folks out of jams. See, that’s why I got the whole reincarnated dog gig, so I could do good deeds.

After Seattle, we spent just over a year crossing the country to get to New England. I checked up on many friends there over the course of a few weeks. Al and I kept meeting nice folks who would feed us and let us sleep on their porch or in their barn. It was pretty swell.

When the time to move on came, I figured, “Why not hike the Appalachian Trail?”. And so we did.

Eventually, 2 ½ years after leaving Sacramento, Al and I wound up in Amarillo, Texas, at the Big Texan Steakhouse. I had been there once as a human and I was hoping we could mooch some good chow.

Half way across the parking lot, I caught a familiar smell. It was Winker! The old girl was in a minivan that just pulled up. She recognized me and we had a short conversation before the humans got out of the van.

Lucy had died a few months earlier, at age 17. Winker was on a cross country trip with Grace, her new husband and two new basset girls, Sasha & Daisy. She said Grace had sold the house and they were all traveling around the country, sometimes in the minivan and sometimes in an RV.

Grace and her husband got out of the car and she was looking very well. Her hubs seemed like a nice guy and they even gave Al and I some chicken nuggets to eat. They were getting ready to go into their motel room, so I really only had time to say goodbye to Winker before they were gone.

Let me pause here to say that my memories of my human life have never left me, but they have receded and it sometimes takes a good while to remember exact memories. Some are so deep, they are essentially lost. In fact, everything from before I turned about 40 is a big hazy glob. Things do pop up in dreams once in a while though.

To make a long story shorter, the next 5 years found Al and I doing our thing helping folks out, saving lives, etc. It was fun and we saw a whole lot of the USA, Canada and Mexico. But about the time I had my 11th birthday, I knew old age was catching up to me. Al was 13 and slowing up, too, so we figured it might be time to find a nice family to adopt us.

That was the Adjami family, immigrants from Africa who lived in Las Vegas. They had 4 young kids and they took in Al & I and gave us a great home. There was always a warm bed or sofa, good food and plenty of love.

On February 20th, 2028, not long after my 16th birthday, I knew that my life would end soon. I was very tired and had arthritis and a heart that was past it’s use by date. I told Al, now 18 himself, goodbye, crawled up on the couch with him and a few minutes later breathed my final breath.

As a dog.

As before, I found myself standing there in the living room, looking at my dead body. Al was meowing sadly and the humans were coming to see what was wrong.

“You probably don’t want to watch what comes next, Doc”

It was the Nice Lady, or Reincarnation Lady or whoever she is. I told her yes, I would like to leave. Next thing you know, we are in a high mountain meadow. It was very pretty and peaceful.

“You did very well during that life, Doc. You saved many lives and stopped many crimes. You get a reward now.”

I was thinking this might be where I walk into the light, but I was wrong. See, my reward was that I could pick the next mammal I got reincarnated as. The only restrictions were it could not be a human or a dog. It also had to be able to help people.

That made things a lot more complicated. Dogs are very suited for helping people and they also don’t make folks freak out if they see one walking down the street. The same cannot be said for a bear or a lion or an elephant.

House cats don’t freak folks out, but their life saving abilities are limited. Bunnies or guinea pigs are non-starters, as are goats or horses or other farm animals. What to choose, what to choose.

Then it hit me. There was an animal that might be useful and would not freak many humans out. It even had one advantage over dogs.

“Make me a raccoon.”

She clapped her hands and remarked that I had made an excellent choice. A few seconds later, I was emerging from the birth canal of a raccoon in Toronto, Canada. Our nest was in an old shed and I had two sisters and a brother. I got licked clean, found a nipple and dozed off while hitting the milk bar.

That was 6 months ago and now I’m part of a large pack of raccoons that patrol several blocks of a Toronto suburb every night. I’m still human intelligent, so I figure I’ll take control of the pack in a week or two. Once I do, I plan on using my fellow trash pandas and our manipulative paws (big advantage over dogs and worth the decreased sense of smell and bite power) to help humans out, especially in the area of crime fighting.

Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Raccoon knows!

Was the above bit of writing interesting to you? Well then, consider become a Patron of this blog! Besides being one of the cool kids and getting to read fun stuff, you get sweet compiled Doclopedia posts in the popular PDF format, plus other exclusive stuff, like five versions of the same tavern. And did we mention the upcoming weekly podcast? The one you, as a Patron will get to hear a week before the common folk? You can get in on this for as little as one dollar a month, so click the link and check it out.

Note: Some PDFs available only at the $3.00 level.

Support this blog on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DocCross

Tequila Sunrise Pancakes

…not as strange as you think

 

The Doclopedia #1,377

When Harry Met…: Silky

The old basset hound looked at the three teenagers and asked “Are you guys ready?”

Harry, Ron & Hermione all answered yes. Silky had been training them hard for a month and they were not the same 15 year olds they had once been. They were soldiers now, trained for one mission and one mission only. Once it was over, they could go back to Hogwarts and be kids again. Or try to be.

Silky, a 12 year old basset hound who had seemed rather sweet when they first met her, had gotten much tougher once training had started. She had worked them long hard hours, then worked them some more. Each of them knew exactly what to do and had the weapons to do it. Where once they had felt fear, now they only felt grim determination.

If everything went well tonight, they would change history.

The four of them were standing on a rooftop about three blocks from what looked like a boarded up fish & chips shop. Inside, thanks to magic, it was a huge hall in which Lord Voldemort would address over 200 Death Eaters. After his speech, they would all leave and start his reign of terror.

Or not. Silky was betting on that.

She raised herself up with her four tentacles and looked at the rooftops around the fish & chips shop. She saw very faint red lights 10 of them, indicating that Dumbledore and his Order of the Phoenix were ready to do their part.

She lowered herself back onto her feet and picked up her weapons. It had been a lot of decades since she had done anything like this, but old skills never die, even when you do. Nine times so far.

“Sweetie, open us a window”, she said to a black Chevrolet Corvette parked a few feet away. A moment later a 10 foot wide 7 foot tall scene appeared in front of them.

“Bloody hell”, said Ron, “I still can’t believe you have a TARDIS.”

Silky chuckled. “She prefers to be called a bus, kid.”

The scene they were watching showed a long hall filled with mask wearing Death Eaters. At one end of the hall, Voldemort sat on a high throne, a smile on his face. He got up and walked a few paces toward the crowd, which went completely silent as he began to speak.

“Okay, it’s showtime. Weapons ready. Step through on my word. You know the rest. Remember, these motherfuckers are nothing but magical Nazis. Okay, Sweetie, make it a door”

Voldemort had just enough time to notice a slight cold draft had occurred when four teenagers dressed in army fatigues and a dog stepped out of nowhere and shot him in the legs. As he felt the searing pain and began his fall, he tried to cast a curse at them, but his power had left him.

From the floor, he watched as the humans and dog, all of whom held machine guns in their arms and tentacles, began mowing down his followers. How could they have gotten in here? This place was the most heavily protected place in the wizarding world. Not even Albus Dumbledore could hope to get in.

Crawling forward, he tried to grab the girl by the ankle. He got a bullet through his hand for his troubles. Screaming in pain he saw several Death Eaters apparate out, only to suddenly reappear and get shot dead. These people were taking no prisoners.

In just under 4 minutes, all of his followers were dead. He was bleeding badly and would not last much longer. The dog approached him.

Who are you?” The fear in his voice made it quaver as it had never done before.

The dog looked at him. “I’m somebody who fought the real Hitler, you snakefaced Nazi son of a bitch. These are kids who would have suffered greatly in a world with you in it. Now that won’t happen.”

She turned to the kids. “You three did good. Now is when I tell you that you aren’t going back to your own time. See, when this piece of shit dies, you three will disappear. Time will be reset and you’ll grow up in a world that was Voldemort free. Harry will have his parents and maybe some siblings. You’ll all meet at Hogwarts and by the time you’re 15, your biggest worries will be acne and dealing with the opposite sex. The wizards outside will come in here and clean up this mess. Tomorrow the biggest news in the Daily Prophet will be the quidditch scores.”

They all started to speak, but she held up a tentacle.

“No more questions, no goodbyes. No memories of this, either. It was an honor and a privilege, guys.”

With that said, she shot the Dark Lord Voldemort twice in the head with the magic draining rounds that she had bought on another Earth. The three teens vanished.

Silky looked around at all the dead bodies. This was now a room full of good magical Nazis. She could feel the Rejuvenox she had been injected with wearing off. She was going to be a sore old bitch for a day or two.

The Corvette appeared next to her and she got inside. The living room was full of sofas and she climbed onto a very soft one.

“Sweetie, let’s go home”, she said, just before she fell asleep.

He Bought A Yam, A Ham, A Clam And Some Spam.

…Damn!

Support this blog on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DocCross

The Doclopedia #1,374

When Harry Met…: Daisy

As soon as the portkey brought them to the graveyard, Harry was ready with his wand and knocked the rat-faced little traitor back about 30 feet, slamming him into a statue. The helpless Dark Lord was flung a few feet away to where Daisy, who had portkeyed in with Harry was waiting.

“How’s it feel to get your ass handed to you by a kid and a dog?”

The tiny figure hissed at her and she shot him with a phaser on stun. He went out like a light.

Harry was just picking up ratface’s wand when the big snake came lunging at him. It would have gotten him, but a phaser blast on “disintegrate”, made short work of the great reptile/horcrux.

T-Thanks”, Harry said, his eyes wide with surprise.

Ratface started to move and Harry blasted him with a paralyzing spell. Then he went and helped Daisy drag the limp Dark Lord over next to Ratface. She placed a small device on each of their foreheads, then she and Harry sat down to wait a few minutes.

“I think this has gone pretty well so far. No dead student, your headmaster has probably got the imposter taken care of, these two are no longer a threat and in a few minutes, we’ll have the rest of his followers. Yeah, our plan is going well.”

Harry looked at the dog, who had a phaser in one…err, hand…a device like a tv remote in another, a wand in her third and a piece of beef jerky in her fourth. Okay, they weren’t hands, they were octopus arms with smaller tentacle-like “fingers” on the ends of them. She was a basset hound, although much slimmer and a bit longer in the leg that the typical show basset. Her ears were very long and she had mostly red fur, with a few small blotches of white. He collar was colored with three broad black stripes separated by two very thin white stripes. She had told him that it marked her as a third level black collar practitioner of Drunken Fox Dog Fu. Harry took her word for it.

“It’s your plan, Daisy. I’m just going along with it.” He resisted the urge to pet her on the head, even though he suspected she would like it.

True,” she said, taking a bite of the jerky, “but I could not have done it without you. I’m sorry you had to go through all that bullshit earlier in your life, but believe me, it would be a day at the fair compared to what was supposed to happen today and over the next few years.”

Harry could only nod in agreement. If what she had told him was true, and he did not doubt that it was, he would gladly take the last 14 years instead of the next 3.

“Well, it’s that time, Harry. The nanites are done getting into those guy’s brains. We can wrap this all up.”

Daisy took the remote and pointed it at ratface. He got up from the ground and then picked up the tiny Dark Lord, who was looking at the her with more hatred than she had ever seen. That sort of warmed her heart.

Harry handed ratface the wand they had taken earlier.

“You know what to do.” Harry’s voice was cold and he would have been lying if he’d said that he didn’t want to kill them both right now. But he wasn’t a killer, so he just stepped back and watched as the traitor bared his forearm and sent up the signal.

Okay, Harry,” Daisy said as she threw the invisibility cloak over herself. “You know what to do.”

Harry quickly lay face down, his right hand holding his wand beneath his apparently stunned body. He eyes were mostly shut, so he saw the followers of the Dark Lord as they appeared.

There were only seven who answered the call. They wore masks, but removed them at a wave of the Dark Lord’s hand.

“Come forward,” the cowardly rodent said. There was fear in his voice, but then, there always was. “Come look at the Fallen Boy, before we begin the ritual to restore our Lord.”

The seven came forward. Not a one had their wands drawn. Just as Daisy had told him, this was going to be a quick and one sided fight.

The moment they stopped, Harry rolled over and blasted two of them with a petrification spell. The remaining five had just enough time to look surprised before Daisy blasted them from behind with stun spells and phaser fire. The whole battle took about 4 seconds.

Daisy and Harry slapped magic draining manacles on ankles and wrists until the seven were trussed up good and proper. Then they walked over to a spot halfway between ratface and the followers and laid out all the horcruxes that were still functioning.

“Well, Harry, will you look at this. A fistful of horcruxes. Of course, we are missing a diary, a ring and that bigass snake, but we still have a cup, a diadem and a locket. Whatever shall we do with them?”

The Dark Lord was feeling enough terror that he was able to twitch a bit. Daisy adjusted the remote and he froze, although his eyes still reflected his fear.

Harry looked at Daisy and said, “I think we ought to destroy this junk.”

With that, he pulled a phaser out of his pocket, adjusted it to the “disintegrate” setting and he and Daisy destroyed the three items in one quick blast.

Daisy walked up to the small former dark wizard asked him, “How does it feel to be mortal, snakeface? I think I should tell you that there was another horcrux you did not know about.” She pointed to Harry.

She then proceeded to tell him the full story, including how a week ago she had given Harry a powerful drug that stopped his heart and, few minutes later, had revived him from death with another drug.

“I got to have a nice chat with my parents, Tom.” Harry smiled as he said it.

A few seconds later a whole group of people appeared. The headmaster was there, along with the more than a bit mad former Auror and several current Aurors. They gathered up all of the followers, including ratface, and whisked them away to the wizard prison, which Daisy had helped to seriously upgrade a few weeks ago. This left the headmaster, Harry and Daisy alone with the…thing…now known as Tom.

“Sir, what shall we do with him?” Harry doubted that the headmaster would kill it.

“Oh, I have a place for him to live out the rest of his life. Sadly, I predict that will only be a few days. Now if the two of you will excuse me, I think I’ll just take Tom and go. Don’t stay too long Harry. I suspect the celebration will be the stuff of legends.”

With that, he was gone.

He’s right about Tom’s lifespan. Looks like it’s 82 hours, 17 minutes 22 seconds as of right now.” She put away her phaser and the several wands she had collected. She pressed s button on the remote and it dissolved into a silvery goo that then slid into her small backpach with everything else.

Harry sat on the ground and gave her a long hug.

Thank you, Daisy”

Daisy licked his cheek as a rather garishly painted school bus materialized behind her. She held up one “hand” with her fingers in a position that Harry recognized from a television program.

Live long and prosper, Harry.”

And then she got on the bus and was gone.

The Only A Couple Of Days Late, But Still Pretty Darned Exciting, Story Of Mostly Purple Patty And The Expired Jar Of Gefilte Fish

…c0-starring her good buddy, Eddie Smulwich

 

Sasha's Bad Day, Part 5 
 

I crawl along the face of the cliff at a pretty good friendly neighborhood Spider-Man clip, which is easy when you have four tentacles and four short little basset hound legs. In no time, I’m a couple of miles away and I see a little mesa with really steep sides off in the distance. Looks like a good place to spend the night.

Now I’m swinging through the trees, well above the reach of any dinosaur. Unfortunately, the forest gives way to about a quarter mile of meadow before I can even start up the sides of the mesa. Not good, because clearings are prime hunting grounds. The ceratopsins and other grazers down below don’t seem to care, but I’m not heavily armored, fast on my feet or part of a herd. I’m gonna need to haul some serious ass and hope my strange appearance confuses any predators.

After a couple of deep breaths, I’m down from the tree and running toward the mesa.



 

 

 

The Way Too Damned Late, But Still Touchingly Sweet, Story Of Mostly Purple Patty And The Lazy Blogger

…co-starring her pet slug, Booger

Sasha's Bad Day, Part 4

It only takes me a couple of minutes to find a nice little 
ledge to sit on while I consider my situation. I got tossed 
into this world when a plasma state circuit on our 
dimensional flux stabilizer shorted out. Bang, a trans-quantum 
tear opened, I got sucked through and next think you know I'm 
trying not to be part of the carnosaur buffet. The question 
now is what to do until help arrives.

See, like everyone in my family, I have a locator beacon inside my brain. It’s about the size of a pea and will allow the Magic Bus find us if this sort of thing happens. The problem is, the multiverse is humongous and the bus has to search through a bunch of realities just to find me. So I could be here awhile. A couple of days, maybe. I’m thinking I need to find a good dinosaur proof shelter, then build a fire. After that, I’ll need food, because all that running has stirred up my appetite.

Mexican Jenny Had It All Figured Out

…or so she thought

Support this blog on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DocCross

 

 

The Doclopedia #1,336

It’s A Trap!: In The Old West


“How the blue eyed hell did those lawmen get the drop on us? These hills are rough as a cob and we left town a good half an hour ahead of any posse. We had fresh…get up behind that boulder, Eli…fresh horses waitin’ for us and they still got here ahead of us! How the hell did…sonofabitch, they got Luis!

God damn it, we ain’t got bullets to waste like that, Charlie! Make them shots count! Looks like Tom is dead or dyin’, Frank. I sure wish I knew how that Sheriff Owens got ahead of us. You think he might of come down the creek on a raft or somethin’, Frank? Don’t seem likely, but that creek is swollen and runnin’ fast.

Well, I say we make a run for it through the canyon. Just you, me, Eli and young Will. Luis ain’t goin’ anywhere all shot up like that. Eli, yell to Will to get ready with the horses.

What do you mean he’s not there? And he took the horses? Well shit, at least we know how the law got ahead of us.”

Mysterious Spicy Tales Of Science Fiction Detective Horror

…they tried to cover all the bases

The Doclopedia #1,333

It’s A Trap!: In The Jungle

Okay, let’s assess the situation, shall we? That rat bastard Von Danigan told us the Temple of the Red Ape was in that last valley. He sold us a map and supplies and got us bearers. We trekked for 5 days through the hills and jungles and swamp until we got to where the map indicated, only to find not the Temple, but a damned large village of the Leopard People, who just happen to be fanatical killers of, well, everybody.

Having discovered that, we ran for our lives, barely keeping ahead of them. Sadly, it appears they have been herding us here to this clifftop where we have no place left to go except 250 feet down into that crocodile infested river. Does that about sum it up?

Yes, Miller, I can see that they’re getting closer. Yes, I’ve heard that they practice cannibalism. I’d rather not find out for sure. No, I think perhaps that you, Pickingham, M’Kenga and myself should just leap off the cliff.

Well of course we’ll probably die, Pickingham, but better to die in the fal and get eaten by crocs than let these bastards get us. Besides, that river is very deep and slow moving and we might just survive. Not sure if we should try to land on a croc or not. Probably not a good idea, but it would take a few out.

Anyway, gents, the Leopard People are within spear range, so on three! One…two…threeeeeee!”

Accurate Fart Simulation In SmartBots

a paper by Dr. Sasha Jane Cross


The Doclopedia #1,332

It’s A Trap!: In Milwaukee

What did I say, Gino? WHAT DID I SAY? I said taking this side job was a mistake. I said the G Men might be up to somethin’. I said if things went to hell we’d be fucked. AND I WAS RIGHT, WASN’T I?”

“Aw, come on, Paulie, it was supposed to be…”

“A sweet deal? All taken care of? That’s what you told me, Gino. When I was thinkin’ it was too good to be true, I asked you again and again and you said not to worry. We’ll there’s about 50 cops outside this warehouse and they’re all loaded for bear and Lucky Jake and his boys did a fast fade and I’m plenty fuckin’ worried now!”

“We still got Tony and Mikey. We can…”

“We can what, Gino? Chew a tunnel through the fuckin’ floor? Shoot it out when we have pistols, one shotgun and a few knives? Oh, wait, maybe we can just fly outta here!”

“How was I supposed to know Jake was in with the Feds? I’m sorry, Paulie, I really am. Jesus, there’s gotta be a way outta here!”

“Yeah, there’s two ways outta here. One is filled with lead and the other is goin’ the way Jake did.”

“Rattin’ out to the Feds? Christ, Big Al will have us killed.”

“Not if we talk fast and then haul ass up into Canada. I know a guy in Thunder Bay who can get us out of the country fast. He owes me.”

“But what about Tony & Mikey? They’re loyal to Big Al and they ain’t gonna turn on him.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to deal with them. Get a gun in each fist, Gino. We’re going to the other end of the warehouse to have a talk with them.”

Support this blog on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DocCross

Giving Up The Fish Turned Out To Be a Bad Idea

…a hard lesson learned

The Doclopedia #1,329

News Of The Multiverse: Sports News

Chicago, United States, Earth 1-I: Fans rioted in the streets when the Chicago Cubs lost what would have been their fifth in a row World Series. The Cubs lost on a controversial call of out at home plate after two extra innings. Fans in Wrigley Field reportedly began throwing things onto the field and getting out of their seats. Within 20 minutes, there were fires and riots across the city. Two hours later the National Guard was called out. Early reports say at least 300 people have been arrested, 156 injured and 5 killed.


Space Station Oz, Earth 2-D: The Sally Ride Classic, as the Championship Gravball Tournament is known, got underway today at 9:00 am, GMT on Space Station Oz. Playing in Arena One are North America and Pacifica. After 2 hours, the score is 10-8 North America. In Arena Two, Europe faces off against Africa, with a score of 5-5 at the 90 minute mark. Winners will face Asia and Mars. Those winners will go up against South America and Luna. Systemwide viewership is estimated to hit 10 billion.

Hobbiton, Middle Earth, Earth 442-A: The annual All Hobbit Kickball Game will start tomorrow an hour after Second Breakfast. Seven teams will be competing and breaks are scheduled for Early Snack, Lunch, Mid Snack, Tea, Afternoon Snack, Dinner, Second Dinner and Late Tea. Last year’s winners, the Bywater Badgers, are the heavy favorites, but many say the Greenfield Gophers could upset them. A winning score in the mid single digits is expected.

Support this blog on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DocCross

Ducks VS Turkeys: Now It’s Personal!

…my money is on the ducks

 

 

The Doclopedia #1,325

Spells Gone Wild: Sleep

Hello? Hello? Hargor can you wake up? Gilia, what about you? Rise and shine, Kelvo! Oh, please do wake up. The entire town is asleep and I’m sure I can’t steal that ancient sword by myself. I’m just not strong enough and I’m certainly not well enough versed in dealing with traps. Oh my, oh my!

I had no idea that those manastones we found were damaged. They must have leaked huge amounts of power into me. That sleep spell was supposed to only have a 20 foot radius, just enough to take out those museum guards. Instead, it seems to have spread nearly a mile. The whole town is asleep!

Now, let’s see…if the guards were only supposed to sleep for two minutes…and the spell was increased about 150 fold, then everyone will sleep for about 5 hours or so. Oh no! The sun will be up by then! Oh, this is bad. Perhaps I can attempt to send an Unseen Servant to fetch the sword. Hmmm.”

Support this blog on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DocCross

The Amazing Spider-Ant

…he is an ant bitten by a radioactive spider

The Doclopedia #1,314

Modern Magical Items: Cloak Of Commuting

Cloaks of Commuting are somewhat improperly named, since most people associate commuting with traveling on some conveyance like a train or car. The Cloak of Commuting is technically a Cloak of Teleportation that is linked between two places, your home and where you work, or vice versa. They work very well, but if you need to change either destination, a wizard will charge you a cool $2,000 and it takes a week to re-tune the cloak.

Most Cloaks of Commuting can be had for under $200.00 and are remarkably durable.

Doc Tempest And The Hammer Of Thor

…from the October, 1957 issue

 

 

The Doclopedia #1,307

How Did You Get That Scar?: The Pirate

I see you staring at my bosom, mate. Or rather, at that circular scar on the right one, correct? No, no need to apologize. Strapping young lads such as yourself can’t help but stare at beauties like these. Ha! I made you blush! How adorable.

The story is as simple as swabbing a deck. My crew of ladies and I had been making things lively down in the Indies and decided to head east for a spell, just to get a change of scenery. The fact that we left just ahead of a great sweep by the Spanish was mere coincidence.

So we were off the coast of Africa, taking prizes from both the Crown and the French when two French ships of the line come over the horizon and give chase. After about half a day, we weren’t losing them and the distance between us was getting damned short. The only trick left to try was to head for a rocky little island we had stopped at before and hope we could run the Frenchy sods aground on the low lying reefs.

The plan worked on the first ship, but the captain of the second had better luck. We ran into a reef and he was on us. A fight breaks out as they boarded us and during the proceedings, somebody shot the fancy looking pistol right out of the captain’s hand. The fight goes on a while longer and they get the best of us, but only after losing a good number of men.

Captain Rambord, for that was the name the Froggy bastard gave, had us all tied up on deck and was telling us how much we would enjoy a French prison. I politely told him my opinion of the French, their prisons and him in particular. That got him mad and he picked up the remains of his pistol and starts heating it over a torch. While he’s doing that, he tells me how the pistol was a gift from some duke or something and how he would use it to brand every one of us, starting with me.

All eyes were on him as he walked up and pressed that red hot barrel to my chest. I screamed and screamed. The pain was terrible, but not the worst I’ve ever felt. He laughed and started heating up the barrel for my First Mate.

And then his ship caught fire.

Well, as you might expect, most of his men took off to help fight the fire, which seemed to be pretty intense. That left half a dozen armed men and the captain with us. When 14 of my crew jumped up and attacked them, they went down without a shot fired. Once I was freed, I started heating up that pistol barrel and telling that scurvy dog how I’d had the presence of mind to prepare for being captured.

You see, I had told three of my ladies to slip over the side the moment we ran aground. They had waited for the right moment, then two of them started fires on the French ship. The third one had climbed up a line and slipped a knife to one of the crew tied to the railing. The knife got passed along unseen due to everyone watching the captain and I. Ah, the French, so easily distracted.

And so the captain’s ship burned, the other ship was not going anywhere due to a hole in her belly, our own damage was minimal and Captain Rambord is never going to be much use to any woman. We looted their ships after forcing the crews to swim to the island, then sailed off on the high tide. As you can see, my wound healed, leaving only this small scar.

Now, my handsome young fellow, how would you like to learn some very saucy tricks I picked up during a trip to India?

 

 

 

Patreon Backer Shoutout!

Carol Robinson, Mark A Schmidt, Loyd Blankenship and Derek Pearcy have all backed this blog. Thank you all!

If YOU would like to back me on this blog, and maybe even on a podcast, just go here…

Support this blog on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DocCross

Amarillo Armadillo

…YAHOOOOO!

 

Support this blog on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DocCross

 

The Doclopedia #1,298

Strange Bandanas: The Desert Camo One

I own hundreds of bandanas. Many of them have strange stories connected to them. Here is one…

At last count, I have 9 different camouflage bandanas. The Desert Camo one is the strangest of the bunch in that if I am wearing it in an actual desert, I become invisible. Pretty handy, you must admit.

While I do not spend much time in deserts, the Desert Camo bandana has let me do such things as…

Punch Erwin Rommel in the junk the night before the Siege of Tobruk.

Escape from a pissed off dinosaur

Hide from a group of Apache warriors after a misunderstanding concerning the sister of one of them.

Sneak up to a meth lab in Arizona and set it on fire.

Accidentally stumble upon a group of ladies bathing in an oasis pool.

Watch John Ford direct movies in Monument Valley.

And avoid countless attacks by wild pigs, bobcats, crazed old miners, coyotes and other dangerous desert denizens. (Note: Being invisible does NOT prevent getting bitten by rattlesnakes)

All in all, I’d have to say that this bandana is one of my favorites.
.

.

.

The Doclopedia #1,299

Strange Bandanas: The Green Tie Dyed One

I own hundreds of bandanas. Many of them have strange stories connected to them. Here is one…

The strangeness of this bandana is simple: it was dyed with several shades of green hemp based dye, to which some dedicated toker added plenty of THC and some magic. As a result of this, if I wear it for more than about 30 minutes, I get high as a kite. Taking it off stops the effect, but it takes about 5 minutes and then I have a terrible case of the munchies.

I never wear this bandana in public, but sometimes slip it on to watch a movie at home, surrounded by the wife, dogs and snack foods that I love.

Real Housewives Of Gotham City

…they are a VERY strange bunch

 

Support this blog on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/DocCross

 

The Doclopedia #1,293

Strange Bandanas: The Solid Orange One

I own hundreds of bandanas. Many of them have strange stories connected to them. Here is one…

The solid orange bandana has no design on it, being just a bright orange color. I got it in a Woolworth’s department in Milwaukee, Wisconsin in 1993. For the next few years, there was nothing unusual about it. Then, one night, I absentmindedly left it sitting on a shelf next to a radio that I forgot to turn off. It sat there for two weeks before I found it. Although the radio’s volume had been turned down to barely audible at close range, the bandana had been exposed to two weeks of straight college radio and had somehow absorbed an enormous knowledge of many types of music.

The result of that is that the solid orange bandana plays a sort of movie soundtrack when I wear it. This music is heard by anyone within 50 feet of me and can change with whatever I am doing. While this is, as you might expect, very cool, it can also cause problems. Since the music changes with my mood as well as my actions, it sometimes gives away how I’m feeling inside. This has gotten me slapped by more than one woman and has pissed off quite a few people I know.

I don’t wear this bandana much anymore, unless I need an ego boost. Nothing like your own theme music to pump up your ego.

Life’s A Long Song

…but the tune ends to soon for us all

 

The following three entries are about alternate world versions of my friend Jeff Mackintosh, a totally swell guy from Canada who recently lost his fight with cancer. Now, I could have written something sad and serious that goes well with the lump in my throat and the tears in my eyes, but that is neither how I roll here on the Doclopedia, nor how Jeff would have wanted it. I just wish I could have finished these when he could have read them. Here’s to you, Jeff.

The Doclopedia #1,290

Jeff Mackintosh: International Superspy

Wherever there are evil plans to be stopped, madmen to be dealt with, hired goons to be calmly shot, martinis to be sipped and beautiful women to be seduced, you’ll find Jeff Mackintosh, secret agent for Canadian Intelligence.

Recruited into the Service at a young age, Jeff soon proved himself a fast learner when it came to tracking down foreign agents, escaping from deathtraps and unhooking a woman’s bra with one hand while shooting commies with his other. He also scored top of his class in Looking Cool, Witty Quips, and Disarming Bombs With Only Seconds Left.

Jeff has saved Canada and the rest of the Free World so many times that secret agents all over the world now refer to doing so as “Jeffing it”. Evil dictators fear him as they do nothing else. Rumor has it that a former leader of North Korea actually died from a heart attack when he misheard a cook talking about a load of Mackintosh apples arriving that day.

When he is not saving the world, Jeff enjoys driving insanely cool cars, eating gourmet food and looking damned good in a well tailored suit.

.

.

.

The Doclopedia #1,291

Jeff Mackintosh: Rock Star

Are you ready to rock your asses off?” is the line that Jeff Mackintosh yells out before every concert given by his band, The Jeffsters. Formed in 1990 with, oddly enough, three other guys named either Jeff or Geoff, the band later added a keyboardist, Tom (AKA “NotJeff”), and started touring, as they put it, “every hole in the wall bar, tavern & saloon in Canada”. They also played at many high school dances and a couple of weddings. On a good paying night, the band could sleep in a tiny fleabag motel room.

After three years of non-stop touring in Canada, the band headed south and toured the United States. There were more gigs and the pay was better, but the best part of the tour was when they got a contract to do an album for the Faultline label out of Los Angeles. The album itself ended up having lukewarm sales, but the guys did get a Top 30 hit off of it with “Canadian Beaver”, a song that had little to do with flat tailed rodents.

With the success of that song, the band got a two record deal with A&M and their second album “Big Mike” (because it showed a big microphone on the cover), had 3 top ten hit songs and went gold. The third album was even more successful. The rest is history.

On stage, Jeff is famous for his long curly hair, skin tight leather pants and fancy guitar work. He is also famous for inviting young ladies onto both the stage and the tour bus. Groupies always remark what a nice guy he is, usually with a naughty giggle.

It should also be known that Jeff and the band donate large amounts of money to Canadian charities. Every year they do at least 5 benefit shows.

.

.

.

The Doclopedia #1,292

Jeff Mackintosh: Product of SCIENCE!

Yes, that is Jeff Mackintosh over there. Yes, THE Jeff Mackintosh. Know him? Hell, lady, I was there when they took him out of the tank! Boy, what a day that was. See, he was physically 10 years old, but we couldn’t get him past age 2 mentally until we decanted him. Let me tell you, a giant sized 2 year old…see, he was about 1.5 meters tall and weighed around 80 pounds…is no fun to deal with. He was upset and yelling “NO!” and tossing technicians around like they were ragdolls. Finally, Mr & Mrs Mackintosh, his parents, stepped in and darned if he didn’t calm right down. Oh, he did crack two of his dad’s ribs hugging him, but it was an accident.

Yeah, his parents gave him to us as a newborn, so the Canadian Science Institute could try out Project X on him. See, we knew it wouldn’t hurt him, but truth to tell, we thought we’d just fix a couple of small birth defects and enhance his strength. Shows you what we knew. By the time he was in the tank an hour, readings were going every which way. He was growing fast and we had to power everything down to about 10% just to have a handle on it. We plugged in the brain to brain interface, hooked the Mackintosh’s up and let them raise a baby from 1 day old to 2 years in about a week. Of course, he grew much faster physically, but once he was out of the tank, he went back to normal aging and caught up to the 10 year mental level in about 2 months.

Now look at him, all grown up and as strong as 5 men and smarter than any 20. He heals up really fast, too, and has senses better than many animals. Pity he declined the adamantium claws, but we knew that was a long shot anyway. Did I mention he can see in the dark? Well, he can!

What does he do? Why, lady, he fights crime and terrorists and makes scientific discoveries and all sorts of other stuff. Tonight, he’ll be giving a talk about that new solar reactor he designed that they’re building out in Alberta. That thing will power half the province, you wait and see!

Hey, he’s looking this way. Why don’t you walk up and say hello? Heck, even the Man of SCIENCE! Might need a date tonight.