meaningslaughter

Seventeen spin cycles ago, the August Facility of Horse-Mongerers Generale convened an Erstwhile Redolence, ostensibly to honor Pederast and zer military facilitations. Naturally, nobody expected Pederast to instantiate specifically, explicitly or otherwise---notwithstanding ministrations of dubious provenance to the contrary. Of course, it goes without saying, but not without writing, that the

last of the snow-elves

Wearied by zer lifetime quest, ze stares into the embers of a dying fire, and weeps. Zer tears float weightless through the twilight, evaporate into tiny sparkling jewels, then fall to earth—cold grains of sorrow, their magic spent. The last and finest of zer kind, ze attempts a summoning but zer power is almost gone. Zer magic freezes into crystal runes that crack, then splinter into dust.

on the outside

Pacing the icy hallways and crystal corridors of the Fortress of Solitude, Superman pondered the meaning and purpose of life, and the fate of those who depended on him. Alone. Sad. Tired. He ventured forth seldom these days into so-called civilisation. Alienated and profoundly depressed, he no longer sought to wreak justice upon the wrongdoer. Apparently indifferent to the plight of the

nobody wants to hear that story

Once upon a wonderful time, when the world was new and the sky was blue and the lambs frolicked in the meadows and the bears shat in the woods but carefully cleaned up after themselves, and people loved each other and never was heard a troublesome word... Nah! Nobody wants to hear that story..."I'll tell you a story," the wrinkled old man said, the aged and nut-brown guru at the top of the world

the Office of the Lost & Found

In the Office of the Lost & Found the dust lies thick upon the windowsills, the chairs, the tables, and the desks of the clerks. Their bald heads shine and they blink owlishly behind their spectacles as they search the Records of Reduced Potential, inscribe with scratchy goose quill pens in the Ledger of Lost Opportunity, and update the Files of Futile Undertakings, in the Office of the Lost &

happy hungry campers

The Happy Campers encountered the Scum of the Earth at the Crossroads of Perplexing Coincidence. The Happiest Camper said to the Chief Scumbag, "Good day to you kind sir. What a happy day, is it not?" The Chief Scumbag grimaced then replied, "Get fucked asshole!" "Oh dear," said the Happiest Camper, "I do apologise if we have offended you and your friends in any way..."The Chief Scumbag frowned

a certain doorway

There is a certain Doorway through which some have crossed over to other places, other dimensions, from which few if any ever return. Some say the Doorway is a Painting, a Magic Painting. Others say it is a device---a stargate, a portal, a magic casement---created by unknown and unknowable beings from the singularity at the very heart of the Cosmos. Mathematicians believe it is a flaw in the