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.

Advertisements

The Better Late Than Never Story of Mostly Purple Patty And The Doorway Into The Unknown.

…actually, it was the doorway to Cousin Mildred’s room

 

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

The Super Duper Scare Your Face Off, But Also Wildly Funny, Story Of Mostly Purple Patty And The Haunted Outhouse

…co-starring her country cousin, Otis Goobersnock

 

Confessions Of A Time Traveler

Killing Hitler: Let Me Count The Ways

Pretty much everyone in my immediate family and a couple of my friends has gone back in time and killed Hitler. Of course, that doesn’t change our history, but it does spin off new timelines where the insane son of a bitch did die. It’s actually more fun than most people think.

Among us Hitler killers, I have done it the most. Silky, who you will remember actually fought the Nazis in her first life, comes in second. We are both into the triple digits. Grace only killed him once, but it was via a transformation hex that turned him into a rat, who, seconds later was crushed under Hermann Goering’s boot. Actually, Grace smoked him, too, but we are only counting Hitler kills here.

Before I go and further, let’s be clear that I’m only counting the times I have ended Adolf Hitler’s life, I’m not counting the times I had him get some good breaks as a kid or teen, got him into art school overseas, got him seriously laid for his first time ever by a Jewish girl, got him laid for the first time by a Jewish boy, scared him into the priesthood by posing as Satan himself or just plain neuralized him into being something other that an antisemitic nutcase. Nope, this is all about bringing his miserable life to an end.

So, I have killed Hitler by…

Rifle shot to the head, long range: 9 times
Rifle shot to the head, medium range: 7 times

Pistol to the head, point blank: 10 times
Pistol, two to the back of the head on a lonely road: 4 times
Shotgun blast, close range: 5 times
Machine gun: 8 times
Arrow, poisoned: 6 times

Blown to smithereens by explosives: 23 times
Dropped conventional bomb on him: 9 times
Nuked him during one of his rallies: 1 time

Poison: 11 times

Disintegrated him: 7 times

Decapitated with a sword: 3 times

Well placed dagger thrust: 15 times
Tossed him off a cliff: 4 times
Electrocution: 5 times
Gassed him in his own gas chambers: 12 times
Tossed him to a crowd of angry Jews: 6 times

Garroted him: 4 times
Ran him down with one of those sweet German touring cars: 4 times
Exposed him to high level radiation: 3 times
Tricked him into killing himself: 3 times
Sicced velociraptors on him (also took out 7 high ranking officers): 1 time
Plane crash: 3 times

Hung him: 4 times
Scared him to death using holograms: 2 times

Automobile accident: 5 times

Steamroller (not as funny as you’d think): 3 times
Strapped to a V-2 rocket: 1 time
Liquid nitrogen dip: 1 time

Drug overdose (surprisingly easy): 7 times

So, 185 times. Truth to tell, I’m kind of tired of killing Hitler. Of course, there is still, Stalin, the various Kims ruling the DPRK, Pol Pot, pretty much every tinpot dictator, the founders of the Ku Klux Klan, the founders of several religions, tons of gangsters and, of course, plenty of shitty politicians throughout US history.

I’m sure the folks in all those better new timelines would thank me, if they knew.

 

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.