This story was originally produced for Challenge 32 of "The Iron Writer" website's weekly challenge and came in Second Place.

The elements:
     An abandoned outhouse
     A megalomaniac
     A centaur
     The Oracle of All Knowledge

Paperwork

By Paul Arden Lidberg

©2013

Milton Keynes tugged his jacket as he glanced in the rearview mirror. He grabbed the briefcase and walked into the field.

He thought it might be the wrong address, but the GPS was adamant. “Fortune favors the Bold” he thought as he knocked on the door of an abandoned outhouse. “Hello? Anyone in there?”

“What do you want?” came the squeaky response.

“I’m Agent Keynes from the IRS, I’m here to discuss your tax returns.”

“Crap! Hang on…” The outhouse slid to the left, revealing a stairway leading underground.

    Reaching the bottom, Milton was surprised by a modern, high-tech chamber filled with exotic gadgetry. A gaudily dressed man was seated on an elevated throne . “Mister, uh, Planner?”

    “That’s Master Planner, you Dolt! The Greatest Super Villain of All Time!”

    “Another megalomaniac...” crossed Milton’s mind. “Right, uh...there are a couple of things we need to discuss about your taxes, Mr., uh, sorry, Master Planner.”

    Spinning his throne, Master Planner shouted “Fred? Trot  in here and bring the tax files!”

    Moments later, a creature straight out of mythology cantered into the room, pulling a wagon full of computer printouts. “Here ya go, boss” the Centaur offered.

    Master Planner came down to intimidate the IRS Agent. “So what do you want, anyway?”

    “We need to take a closer look at your deductions, sir.”

    “What do you mean?”

    “Well” he started, “it really looks like you don’t understand depreciation.”

    “What is there to know?” The Master Planner offered hesitantly, “I didn’t do anything wrong...”

    “Well sir, what you’ve submitted just doesn’t make sense.” He consulted his notes. “It says here you built this ‘lair’ last year for $1 billion dollars, and then wrote that off as depreciation.. You just can’t do that with real estate.”

    “Yes, I can. Check your superbeing charts, and you’ll see the lifespan for secret bases is around 11 months.” The villain had a smug look on his face. “So I can.”

    Milton quickly searched his laptop for the tables in question. The bad guy was right! “Very well. Now, what is this piece of ‘research equipment’ you are depreciating at a value of $10 billion?”

    The villain was beaming. “That is the Oracle of All Knowledge! I won it on ebay. Fierce bidding, but I won! A very special computer.”

    “Can I see it?”

    “Certainly!” The villain ushered him over. “There it is!” he said, grandly gesturing toward a computer screen mounted in a rock, a microphone extending from below. “Ask it anything!”

    “Okay. What is the atomic weight of radium?”

    “226 u” it vocalized.

    “Who is the Secret Master of the Illuminati?”

    “Al Gore” it replied. Milton was impressed.

    “Fair enough...what are you really?” he ventured.

    There was a faint chuffing noise, then a reply. “I am a cheap desktop computer.”

    “What?!?” shouted the Master Planner. “What the Hell are you talking about?”

    “You’ve been had, sir” the disguised computer replied.

    “Well, that’s disallowed. You owe 3 billion in taxes and penalties” stated Milton.

    “But, but, but…”

    “I’m sorry, but you should know better than to get in the sights of…”

A flash of light, a puff of smoke...

“...The Auditor!”

   

Story Blog #1

The elements:

    a cherry poptart

    a shotgun

    a spaceship

    a picture of a pretty girl on a beach

    (submitted by D.B. Lincoln)

Goal - 500 words - Actual - 397

The Calm Before…

A tale of the $tar Corp$ universe…

By Paul Arden Lidberg

Devin sat contentedly munching a cherry poptart in the ready room and watching the vid. The Universe Cup was down to Capella IV and Siberia. Devin chuckled as he thought of the irony of a frozen planet being the best at an outdoor sport.

He picked up the oily rag and went back to cleaning his shotgun. Sure all the modern weapons are cute, he thought, but nothing beats a classic. Pump action, 9 rounds -  perfect for the occasional close encounter. He finished up cleaning and oiling it, then stowed it in his ruck.

Glancing up at the vid, he saw they’d moved on to the IFL scores. With 16 divisions, it was hard to keep up. They’d finally been forced to reorganize the teams so they could play more often. Even with that, it still took almost 2 years to play one “season.” His great-grandfather told him they used play the Super Bowl every year, but he wasn’t sure he believed him. “Would you look at that” he said to the empty room, “Earth actually has a team that doesn’t suck!”

When he thought about it, it wasn’t all that surprising. Ever since they dropped their objections to prosthetic enhancement, it was only a matter of time before one of the Corp Execs built themselves a decent quarterback.

Almost time to go, he mused. He grabbed his wallet from the table, and opened it. Anna looked beautiful in that bikini, he thought as he again stared at the picture of his new wife. That day on the beach was something he would never forget. “Gotta find a way to be home more” he said, “this is not what I had in mind. Shaking his head to clear it, he stowed the wallet and got up.

“Who am I kidding? I’m a soldier. It’s what I do. She knew it going in, so that’s that.” Satisfied at that, he turned to leave.

“Five minutes to drop” came the announcement, the ship’s computer sounding almost human. “Five minutes.”

He hustled through the hatch, and ducked down the passage to the launch bay. The sergeant was already there (of course), alternately shoeing and berating the troops into the Assault Pod. “Get moving, maggots!” he shouted as he waved them in.

Devin checked the men in his squad, then strapped in himself. Just another day in the FedEx Rangers.

(c) 2013 Paul Arden Lidberg.

Welcome to my Story Blog!

This will be a place for everyone to read very short, often amusing stories that I will be writing and posting on a weekly (or possibly more often basis).

Some of them will be completely stand alone, and some of them will be connected to the games and IPs we produce.

The best part is that y'all get to help - here's how.

I want you, the readers, to tell me what to write about.

Using the link on the right, send me an email and include one of the following options:

1) for a 250 word story, I need some item/story element/whatever (i.e. a Winebago, a baloney sandwich, a snowy night, the asteroid field) and either a genre (i.e. sci-fi, fantasy, noir, historical) or one of our game settings (Vampire Hunter$, Critter Commandos, UNSanctioned, etc.).

2) for a 500 word story, I need 4 story elements (i.e. a Winebago, a baloney sandwich, a snowy night, the asteroid field). You can suggest a genre or IP, but those will be considered suggestions/optional.

I cannot guarantee a given suggestion will be written, or in what order, but I promise to consider each one carefully.

Oh, and the weirder the combination, the more likely it will be a humorous story...:D

I hope y'all find them entertaining!

-Paul