Revisiting The Ducklie Tragedy
Excerpt From Chapter 4, Page 73
May 17th, 2036
1AM
Several hundred miles from where the massacre would take place, a tall morbidly obese man in his early forties, known to history as OG$kabz, gathers frost on his long beard as he slowly stacks shelves in a convenience store freezer. His boss, an equally rotund woman in her early twenties, yells through the door, “Go clock out so you don’t hit overtime! You can go home after you stack the freezer and mop up the kitchen.”
4AM
OG$kabz enters his studio apartment with an extra-large pizza and wades through a shallow pool of junk food wrappings to his computer. He boots up an MMORPG in one window and checks his bank balance in the other. In the first window, his avatar assists a group of soldiers in taking down a giant wyrm by providing them with ample mana per second. In the second window, his bank balance reads $12.37. He wolfs down slice after slice of pizza as he provides vital assistance to the bold warriors. During the three second intervals between crafting each potion, $kabz refreshes the page showing his $12.37 balance.
Click. $252.48. He wipes the butter, crumbs, and grease off his hands and onto his pants. He struggles into an ill-fitting button up shirt, waddles into his bathroom and makes an effort to comb his remaining hair. $kabz resettles himself into his computer chair and types the address for the state’s official Ducklie porn site into the browser. He’s logged in automatically and proceeds to click a button that reads, “Tribute $250.”
The bank window refreshes to display a balance of $2.48. An animated, feminine, three-dimensional depiction of Ducklie fills the monitor. In a synthetic, but almost human voice, she coos, “Hello, OG$kabz.”
“Hello Miss Ducklie!” exclaims $kabz, happily.
Tiara of Thorns: The Rose Hawthorne Story
Excerpt from Chapter 8, Page 174
To: josh.p.menenheimer@sleipnirprivatesecurity.state
From: rose.hawthorne@entertainment.cmc.state
Subject: I am being harassed and threatened. Please advise.
Hello Josh,
I spoke with my attorney about the situation and he suggested scheduling a consultation with your firm. I am very concerned for my safety and would much appreciate it if you could respond in a timely manner. I’m forwarding a copy of the email I received now.
Thanks much,
Rose
To: josh.p.menenheimer@sleipnirprivatesecurity.state
From: rose.hawthorne@entertainment.cmc.state
Subject: FWD: Your BILL has come DUE! It’s time to for you to PAY!
Dear Rose,
You are a witch and a whore and I hate you. Your stupid duck seduced my husband into watching it on the television and he said he wasn’t doing or thinking anything improper but heez a man and I know damn well he’s thinking about that weird cartoon bird of yours and I think its absolutely sick. You make me sick! I’m a good woman and I will pray for you and I want you to also pray for forgiveness because I will see u very soon thru your window and my scope when I put a .308 through your filthy demonic HEAD.
Consensus,
BEESwax
Milda Presley
(555) 161-8974
Milda@halloedtoletance.state
To: rose.hawthorne@entertainment.cmc.state
From: josh.p.menenheimer@sleipnirprivatesecurity.state
Subject: Don’t worry about crazy Milda
Hi Rose,
I wouldn’t lose sleep over this. We’ve had loads of run-ins with Milda. She’s like a friendly bulldog with a ferocious bark; sending death threats is just her way of saying, “Hi, I’m Milda!” She’s really quite sweet in person. If she owned or had access to a rifle we’d know about it.
We’ll let you know immediately if there’s reason for concern. Please stop worrying about this and enjoy your weekend.
Sincerely,
Josh Menenheimer, Sr. Security Advisor
This entire story is a work of fiction. None of the characters, events, and organizations are real, nor do they intentionally refer to real people, events, or organizations with the possible exception of parody. This work is for entertainment purposes only.
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