RIO's June E-Zine
CONSPIRACY THEORIES
and OTHER STORIES
(also a poem or two)
Comment by Andrew Finch
What is poetry? What does it mean?
Is it love, is it hate, is it nonsense obscene?
Is it the flitting of a dove, through clear morning air?
Is it a lavish letter to a lover fair?
Perhaps poetry is darker, perhaps its a shattered mirror within,
or possibly a bloodstained blade, riddled with sin.
Taking so many shapes, so many forms,
committing taboos, following norms.
Poetry can draw laughs, sobs, or sighs,
truly, it is a master of disguise.
but if we put it into it’s simplest terms,
poetry is a kiss, a bite, a broken heart, the will to learn.
It is art on a page, a painting in words,
flitting across paper like beautiful birds
Poetry carves a sculpture, paints a portrait in your mind,
whenever you gaze upon a page, you never know what you’ll find.
Is it love, is it hate, is it nonsense obscene?
Is it the flitting of a dove, through clear morning air?
Is it a lavish letter to a lover fair?
Perhaps poetry is darker, perhaps its a shattered mirror within,
or possibly a bloodstained blade, riddled with sin.
Taking so many shapes, so many forms,
committing taboos, following norms.
Poetry can draw laughs, sobs, or sighs,
truly, it is a master of disguise.
but if we put it into it’s simplest terms,
poetry is a kiss, a bite, a broken heart, the will to learn.
It is art on a page, a painting in words,
flitting across paper like beautiful birds
Poetry carves a sculpture, paints a portrait in your mind,
whenever you gaze upon a page, you never know what you’ll find.
Conspiracy Theories - The Truth is Out There...
by Luka Jones
ALL HORSES ARE ALIENS
by Luka Jones All horses are, in fact, aliens, using their human slaves to appear normal in order to kill all the humans and finally kick over the Illuminati, and finally the Earth. We have befriended horses and think them as our slaves. Won't we be wrong! 
By Luka Jones
SNEOPLE: FACT OR FACT?
By Luka Jones Sneople, future beings that inhabited this earth after the robot government, have gone back in time to create the U.S.A government. Have you ever seen a Sneople? No? That’s how they want it. Chances are, if you ever saw a Sneople, you would become paralyzed by their laser eyes, then stored in a secret underground facility to feed their Sneople babies and future rulers of the world. Obama? Sneople. Try and find something to disprove this. There are plenty of snake conservation things, created by Obama himself, the ultimate Sneople! 
by Luka Jones
Steven Harper and time travel? Dinosaurs and WWII? JOHN TITOR?????
By Emily Firmston and Alexis Kelly
SONIC GAI8
by Buzz Michael Bay caused Sonic 06!!! The government has been hiding a deep dark secret! Michael Bay is an Illuminati member and he caused Sonic 06's Creation! Bay's last name has 3 letters, right? The Illuminati has 3 sides. 3+3 is 6. Sonic 06... MICHAEL BAY CAUSED SONIC 06. OMG GAI8!!! 
by Emily Firmston
GET IN THE ROBOT, MILITARY?
By Em Williamson The military is made entirely of clones of Shinji Ikari fused with Stephan Harper. They enjoy crying and bigotry. 
by Dubsy
DEMON CLOWNS
by Ian Westacott Clowns are actually demons. Have you ever seen their faces? Proof! LLAMAS, STEPHEN HARPER, AND THE RUSSIANS
by Thomas Finch Stephan Harper is actually a soviet Russian spy, bent on causing large amounts of global warming so he can go to the beaches in Russia. This is also causing large amounts of llamas and alpacas to rain from the sky, killing hundreds of orphans a year. Harper also works with 'Merica. Need proof - just look at how the llama and alpaca populations have been growing rapidly. |
EVIL ROBOTIC FANS
by Emma Train Justin Bieber's lawyers have gotten together and begun to send evil, robotic fans out to behead the elderly. "One morning, I woke up, and my wife was dead," claims one man. "I was like, 'Yes! I'm free!'" Although there was no trauma to the body, and it appears that the woman simply died in her sleep, we know that it was a beheading. The fans simply took the body and the head and ate them to eliminate the evidence. The body found was a hologram - a very realistic, solid one. It is the only way. 
by Dubsy
FIDDLER ZAYN?
By Alexis Kelly Zayn from One Direction Without them is perfection He’s working with other quitters To make a band with Fiddlers But he will be Zayn no more Rather the Cucumber Floor It’s the band name, it will be I swear He has a secret lair Have you ever been there? So how could you say it isn’t true? Join me in this theory, in queue I’ve posted too much on Tumblr today, But let this theory not decay! CELEBRITIES CONTROLLED BY CIA
by Caelan Nicol The CIA has recently been found to be using super spy tech to control the minds of many famous celebrities and business owners to provide subliminal messages of communism to the young generations of teenagers. Let's look:
Just remember the CIA, seeing the economy crash, want the country in a Russian like state. President Barack Obama backs up this theory. If you take his fourth speech while in office, and listen to the first three words spoken every two hours (One hour mark, three hour mark, etc.) he says, "I think America / should learn to / be like Russia / our greatest ally!" There's the proof! 
by Dubsy
SHOCKING MLP GEN 3.5
by Buzz and Caelan Nicol If you or your child have been recently exposed to the generation of My Little Pony, known to many as "Generation 3.5", may be at risk for mind control!!! Recent government satellite scans have revealed that aliens have been using "3.5" to control and rot the minds of 6-year-old girls and 20-year-old men. A quote from the aliens themselves translates EXACTLY into "lol thx 4 da minds brahz." This obviously means that people should stop watching "Gen 3.5" OR ELSE. APACALYPSE 2016 VOLCANOES ACTUALLY DRAGONS (More proof)
By Delaney Nicol All volcanoes are legitimately dragons. When those princesses scream, it wakes up the dragons, which then spit lava at the princesses. This is the reason no one see princesses anymore! A quote from one of these dragons. "BOOM!" - Dragon of Iceland RGI Insurance has been spreading this rumour of a dragonless world, and that's just not cool bro. 
By Delaney Nicol
VOLCANOS = FIRE LIZARDS?
By Emily Firmston Volcanoes are actually dragons: FACTS
by Luka Jones
|
GOVERNMENT TIME TRAVEL?
by Emma Train and Delaney Nicol
"James Wolfe has been hired by city council of L'Amabama. It is becoming a large issue."
- Mrs. Lilly Bama. (Ama Bama's great great granddaughter).
What more proof do you need?
by Emma Train and Delaney Nicol
"James Wolfe has been hired by city council of L'Amabama. It is becoming a large issue."
- Mrs. Lilly Bama. (Ama Bama's great great granddaughter).
What more proof do you need?
And now for something completely different...
A POEM
by Emma Train
I just met you
And I am crazy
I'm Justin Beiber
And I have rabies
by Emma Train
I just met you
And I am crazy
I'm Justin Beiber
And I have rabies
RIO DOES OTAFEST
RIO DOES READING TOWN
Calgary Reads put together a super fun event at the beginning of May called Reading Town. There were a bunch of live action events and other virtual ones. One of the things our RIOites took part in was the Reading Town tweets. One of our stories were tweeted out for each of the seven days. AND in case you missed them - I am reprinting them below.
Enjoy!
Enjoy!
Alone
by Breanna Sieracki
Morning came quicker than the night started. My alarm screeches at me louder than usual. I smash down the snooze button a couple of times before I force myself to get up. I make my way downstairs and start to prepare for the day by eating breakfast and packing my lunch.
I hear my mother call out to me from the kitchen “Be careful! Don’t be late!”
I’m late when I get to school, I lived close but that did not mean anything to me. I hate this place, it feels more like a prison each day I roam these dull halls.
When I get to my class my teacher scowls at me as I walk in, he does not say a word about my absence this time which shocks me beyond belief as I make my way over to my seat.
I sit down slamming my backpack to the ground as the teacher starts the lecture once again. I ball up my fist mostly for my amusement, I think of ways to disappear, to get away. I try to think of a way to make everyone disappear.
After fifteen minutes of lecture my eye lids drop putting me into darkness, I hear the teachers’ voice before a loud bang cuts him off in mid sentence. I’m left alone in the silence of darkness before I hear water drip down from the ceiling.
I open my eyes drowsily feeling like I have been asleep forever. I glance around the room. I’m the only one here. The room is in ruins. I fall out of my desk confused and fearful at what has happened. I slowly get up from the ground. Where did our wonderful learning party run off too? Why I was left behind?
I look on each and everyone’s desks noticing large piles of dust on where my fellow classmates use to sit. I hear a bang outside the room, startling me. I abandon the desks to investigate the noise. I peak through the doorway into the eerily lit hall. A bird a few lockers down is struggling to get away but is held back by some force.
I notice its Suzie Richards locker; she was always the crafty type.
I slowly make my way over to the bird who is trying so desperately to get away from what looks to be its death.
Once I am at the locker the bird, a magpie, looks up at me with wide beady eyes. I attempt to calm it down as I lift up the string attached to the locker. As I do the string brightens in color along with the bird before shattering into dust and embers.
I watch as the remains fall to the ground, similar to what was found on the desks. I can’t help but let out a choke of horror. I watch the spot for a few more minutes slowly realizing everyone around me was dead, turned to dust. I am finally alone.
by Breanna Sieracki
Morning came quicker than the night started. My alarm screeches at me louder than usual. I smash down the snooze button a couple of times before I force myself to get up. I make my way downstairs and start to prepare for the day by eating breakfast and packing my lunch.
I hear my mother call out to me from the kitchen “Be careful! Don’t be late!”
I’m late when I get to school, I lived close but that did not mean anything to me. I hate this place, it feels more like a prison each day I roam these dull halls.
When I get to my class my teacher scowls at me as I walk in, he does not say a word about my absence this time which shocks me beyond belief as I make my way over to my seat.
I sit down slamming my backpack to the ground as the teacher starts the lecture once again. I ball up my fist mostly for my amusement, I think of ways to disappear, to get away. I try to think of a way to make everyone disappear.
After fifteen minutes of lecture my eye lids drop putting me into darkness, I hear the teachers’ voice before a loud bang cuts him off in mid sentence. I’m left alone in the silence of darkness before I hear water drip down from the ceiling.
I open my eyes drowsily feeling like I have been asleep forever. I glance around the room. I’m the only one here. The room is in ruins. I fall out of my desk confused and fearful at what has happened. I slowly get up from the ground. Where did our wonderful learning party run off too? Why I was left behind?
I look on each and everyone’s desks noticing large piles of dust on where my fellow classmates use to sit. I hear a bang outside the room, startling me. I abandon the desks to investigate the noise. I peak through the doorway into the eerily lit hall. A bird a few lockers down is struggling to get away but is held back by some force.
I notice its Suzie Richards locker; she was always the crafty type.
I slowly make my way over to the bird who is trying so desperately to get away from what looks to be its death.
Once I am at the locker the bird, a magpie, looks up at me with wide beady eyes. I attempt to calm it down as I lift up the string attached to the locker. As I do the string brightens in color along with the bird before shattering into dust and embers.
I watch as the remains fall to the ground, similar to what was found on the desks. I can’t help but let out a choke of horror. I watch the spot for a few more minutes slowly realizing everyone around me was dead, turned to dust. I am finally alone.
Captive – chapter 1
by Ian Westacott
Waking up in the Rat’s Nest is not usually an enjoyable affair but it hurts even more when you’ve been clubbed on the back of your head then poorly tied up with an ugly meathead gloating over you. My first thought was for my dagger but as the blurred images came into focus, I saw who it was that had hit me while I was asleep and my dagger in his hands. It may be a practical thing to do in case a victim is faking unconsciousness, but it was still rude.
His name was Rot because of the rather unflattering patch that was slowly creeping from his left temple and across to the broken nose covering his left eye. "Ok, Sharp, now I’ve got your attention."
Like the idiot had anything else. He had tried to talk to me about something or other last night and I had brushed him off.
"Now about my offer."
This was extremely complex speech for a Slummer, he could actually be serious about this
"Um yeah... what was that again?"
His brow might have creased it was hard to tell through the flesh-rot "You know what I said yesterday, Sharp, I have an invi... invi..."
"Invitation."
"Yes that. From the —"
It was coming back to me. So was how to escape these bonds "The red ravens my answer is still no and if you think this will help, you’re idiots.” Yesterday I had thought it was a trap but now I didn’t want to join because they must have been idiots to think I would join now
"If that’s your final answer then I have to do this," he grumbled then stabbed down with my dagger going for the back of my throat as it passed my teeth. I felt a cold chill of fear. Yes it may seem a bit late to you but you will understand why I wasn’t worried earlier. The knife clanked against the paving stones behind me.
"What the?"
I sharply jerked my legs apart (I told you it was a bad knot) and in the same motion swept Rot's legs out from under him, snatched my dagger out of his hands and sliced his throat open without a second thought. He died not comprehending what just happened.
In the Rat’s Nest you have to learn to live no matter what. It’s them or you.
by Ian Westacott
Waking up in the Rat’s Nest is not usually an enjoyable affair but it hurts even more when you’ve been clubbed on the back of your head then poorly tied up with an ugly meathead gloating over you. My first thought was for my dagger but as the blurred images came into focus, I saw who it was that had hit me while I was asleep and my dagger in his hands. It may be a practical thing to do in case a victim is faking unconsciousness, but it was still rude.
His name was Rot because of the rather unflattering patch that was slowly creeping from his left temple and across to the broken nose covering his left eye. "Ok, Sharp, now I’ve got your attention."
Like the idiot had anything else. He had tried to talk to me about something or other last night and I had brushed him off.
"Now about my offer."
This was extremely complex speech for a Slummer, he could actually be serious about this
"Um yeah... what was that again?"
His brow might have creased it was hard to tell through the flesh-rot "You know what I said yesterday, Sharp, I have an invi... invi..."
"Invitation."
"Yes that. From the —"
It was coming back to me. So was how to escape these bonds "The red ravens my answer is still no and if you think this will help, you’re idiots.” Yesterday I had thought it was a trap but now I didn’t want to join because they must have been idiots to think I would join now
"If that’s your final answer then I have to do this," he grumbled then stabbed down with my dagger going for the back of my throat as it passed my teeth. I felt a cold chill of fear. Yes it may seem a bit late to you but you will understand why I wasn’t worried earlier. The knife clanked against the paving stones behind me.
"What the?"
I sharply jerked my legs apart (I told you it was a bad knot) and in the same motion swept Rot's legs out from under him, snatched my dagger out of his hands and sliced his throat open without a second thought. He died not comprehending what just happened.
In the Rat’s Nest you have to learn to live no matter what. It’s them or you.
Darkness
By Andrew Finch
Caitlin ran through the darkness. The Shadows were right behind her, their presence radiating cold like ice. She was nearly there. She could feel it. The lantern jangled as she ran. The small orb of light was the only thing guiding her through the countless chambers that filled this place. The Shadows were gaining fast. An inky black tentacle of pure darkness grabbed at Caitlin’s wrist, she stumbled as she shook it off, her arm feeling cold and numb. She skidded around the corner and found herself running along an old balcony, a room the size of a soccer field lay bellow her. At the end of the balcony was a rough door made with dark wood. A dim light shone from the crack between its bottom and the floor. Caitlin felt her heart fill with hope. She so close to freedom.
As Caitlin ran towards the door, the Shadows behind her sped up. Desperation giving them strength. She could feel their silent please; “Give it to us,” they whispered, “free us.” Caitlin ignored them. She was almost there. Just a few more steps. She reached for the handle... Her foot caught on a loose tile on the stone floor. She toppled forwards, her hands scraping on the rough stone. She got to her knees, reaching for the lantern.
The lantern! It lay shattered on the floor. Caitlin watched in horror as the small wisp of light that had illuminated her path floated upwards. She felt a deep coldness building inside the tips of her fingers. Caitlin looked down and gasped.
“No!” she cried in despair, “no! Not again! Please!” Her fingers were dissolving into inky dark tentacles. The darkness traveled up her body and over Caitlin’s face. She gave one last gargled scream of pure terror as the darkness filled her entire being. Than she was silent, nothing more than a stray shadow, lost among the countless others, searching for a light that would set her free.
By Andrew Finch
Caitlin ran through the darkness. The Shadows were right behind her, their presence radiating cold like ice. She was nearly there. She could feel it. The lantern jangled as she ran. The small orb of light was the only thing guiding her through the countless chambers that filled this place. The Shadows were gaining fast. An inky black tentacle of pure darkness grabbed at Caitlin’s wrist, she stumbled as she shook it off, her arm feeling cold and numb. She skidded around the corner and found herself running along an old balcony, a room the size of a soccer field lay bellow her. At the end of the balcony was a rough door made with dark wood. A dim light shone from the crack between its bottom and the floor. Caitlin felt her heart fill with hope. She so close to freedom.
As Caitlin ran towards the door, the Shadows behind her sped up. Desperation giving them strength. She could feel their silent please; “Give it to us,” they whispered, “free us.” Caitlin ignored them. She was almost there. Just a few more steps. She reached for the handle... Her foot caught on a loose tile on the stone floor. She toppled forwards, her hands scraping on the rough stone. She got to her knees, reaching for the lantern.
The lantern! It lay shattered on the floor. Caitlin watched in horror as the small wisp of light that had illuminated her path floated upwards. She felt a deep coldness building inside the tips of her fingers. Caitlin looked down and gasped.
“No!” she cried in despair, “no! Not again! Please!” Her fingers were dissolving into inky dark tentacles. The darkness traveled up her body and over Caitlin’s face. She gave one last gargled scream of pure terror as the darkness filled her entire being. Than she was silent, nothing more than a stray shadow, lost among the countless others, searching for a light that would set her free.
Five Nights at Freddy’s VS. Will Smith
by Keagan Longson
“PSST!” Bonnie hissed.
“Huh?” Freddy questioned.
“We gotta go back to the place.” Bonnie stated.
Soon after, they made their way back to The Place and planned out a few things.
BANG!
“Uh, Bon Bon. What was th-,” Freddy asked.
Suddenly, Will Smith came bursting through a window behind them. When Bonnie and Freddy looked behind them, Smith was holding a C4 Detonator and clicked it. But then, he turned into Morgan Freeman.
“I AM MORGAN FREEMAN!!” Will Smith shouted. Then, he disappeared, leaving behind a Toy version of Freddy Fazbear.
“Will Smith is an evil mastermind, Freddy and Bonnie. We must stop his plans to take ov-,” Toy Freddy said.
But Freddy interrupted, “Wait for just one second here, boyee! Will Smith used you for something and now you want to show him who he really is on the inside?”
“Yep, and also...I know where he er, dwells,” Toy Freddy said furiously.
“Then let's go, mates!” Bonnie said, impatiently.
They started to make their way to his home base, using a map Toy Freddy had of where to go and how to get there. “So, are you sure Will is a Mastermind, Toy Fredbear?” Bonnie questioned.
“Yes, I'm sure. He programmed to pretty much destroy you guys like he did with Chica, Foxy, Toy Bonnie, Toy Chica, Toy Foxy, etc,” Toy Freddy replied.
“Are we there yet?” Freddy asked.
“NO!” Toy Freddy yelled. A few minutes later, they were at the Front Entrance. “Huddle, huddle.” Toy Freddy said. “This is what we do. Bonnie, you go through the Back, Freddy, I will boost you up to the roof and walk from there, I'll go through the Right Side of the Fortress.” Toy Freddy whispered to them.
“Ok,” Bonnie and Freddy both whispered back.
“And also. We'll meet up in the middle of the Fortress,” Toy Freddy added.
Bonnie had to climb over a fence, dodge barbed wire, and look out for signs of mines —EMP mines. Toy Freddy had indeed boosted up Freddy to the roof. Then Freddy had to encounter barbed wires, walls, and security cameras. Toy Freddy came from the Right Side of the Building. He didn't encounter a thing. Toy Freddy and Bonnie met up to see Will Smith laughing evilly with a grin. Freddy opened up a hatch above Will and saw that Toy Fredbear and Bonnie had encountered Will, so, Freddy drop-kicked Will in the back and raced towards Toy Fredbear and Bonnie. Will had traps that burst fire, mounted Ray Guns, Wunderwaffe DG-2s and DG-3s, and exploding lightning bolts. Freddy finally got up and went to one of the Ray Guns and shot at them. They weren't effective. So, he tried the DG-2. It STILL didn't work. The DG-3, N0P3!
“The fire and lightning bolts on the floor should work,” Will thought. He activated one of the fire streams, and they all dodged. Then he activated the lightning bolts. He struck Toy Fredbear, but he was still felt good.
“Three'” Toy Fredbear shouted.
“Two” Bonnie screamed.
“One” Fredbear yelled.
“YOLO!” They all said, charging for Will.
It was hand-to-hand combat! They punched and kicked and slapped and taunted. Finally, Will was bleeding out. “I. W-WILL. HAVE MY R-REV-VENGE!!” Will passed out. And the world had not been destroyed by Will's power.
DE END!
by Keagan Longson
“PSST!” Bonnie hissed.
“Huh?” Freddy questioned.
“We gotta go back to the place.” Bonnie stated.
Soon after, they made their way back to The Place and planned out a few things.
BANG!
“Uh, Bon Bon. What was th-,” Freddy asked.
Suddenly, Will Smith came bursting through a window behind them. When Bonnie and Freddy looked behind them, Smith was holding a C4 Detonator and clicked it. But then, he turned into Morgan Freeman.
“I AM MORGAN FREEMAN!!” Will Smith shouted. Then, he disappeared, leaving behind a Toy version of Freddy Fazbear.
“Will Smith is an evil mastermind, Freddy and Bonnie. We must stop his plans to take ov-,” Toy Freddy said.
But Freddy interrupted, “Wait for just one second here, boyee! Will Smith used you for something and now you want to show him who he really is on the inside?”
“Yep, and also...I know where he er, dwells,” Toy Freddy said furiously.
“Then let's go, mates!” Bonnie said, impatiently.
They started to make their way to his home base, using a map Toy Freddy had of where to go and how to get there. “So, are you sure Will is a Mastermind, Toy Fredbear?” Bonnie questioned.
“Yes, I'm sure. He programmed to pretty much destroy you guys like he did with Chica, Foxy, Toy Bonnie, Toy Chica, Toy Foxy, etc,” Toy Freddy replied.
“Are we there yet?” Freddy asked.
“NO!” Toy Freddy yelled. A few minutes later, they were at the Front Entrance. “Huddle, huddle.” Toy Freddy said. “This is what we do. Bonnie, you go through the Back, Freddy, I will boost you up to the roof and walk from there, I'll go through the Right Side of the Fortress.” Toy Freddy whispered to them.
“Ok,” Bonnie and Freddy both whispered back.
“And also. We'll meet up in the middle of the Fortress,” Toy Freddy added.
Bonnie had to climb over a fence, dodge barbed wire, and look out for signs of mines —EMP mines. Toy Freddy had indeed boosted up Freddy to the roof. Then Freddy had to encounter barbed wires, walls, and security cameras. Toy Freddy came from the Right Side of the Building. He didn't encounter a thing. Toy Freddy and Bonnie met up to see Will Smith laughing evilly with a grin. Freddy opened up a hatch above Will and saw that Toy Fredbear and Bonnie had encountered Will, so, Freddy drop-kicked Will in the back and raced towards Toy Fredbear and Bonnie. Will had traps that burst fire, mounted Ray Guns, Wunderwaffe DG-2s and DG-3s, and exploding lightning bolts. Freddy finally got up and went to one of the Ray Guns and shot at them. They weren't effective. So, he tried the DG-2. It STILL didn't work. The DG-3, N0P3!
“The fire and lightning bolts on the floor should work,” Will thought. He activated one of the fire streams, and they all dodged. Then he activated the lightning bolts. He struck Toy Fredbear, but he was still felt good.
“Three'” Toy Fredbear shouted.
“Two” Bonnie screamed.
“One” Fredbear yelled.
“YOLO!” They all said, charging for Will.
It was hand-to-hand combat! They punched and kicked and slapped and taunted. Finally, Will was bleeding out. “I. W-WILL. HAVE MY R-REV-VENGE!!” Will passed out. And the world had not been destroyed by Will's power.
DE END!
Humans Art the Worst
By Em Williamson
Humans are vile, ruthless and manipulative creatures.
No matter how hard you try to stay away from them, no matter how much you try to distance yourself from them, they’ll always suck you right back in like some kind of hateful, fleshy black hole.
And this, per se, isn’t what I’m objecting to. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a social person. I’m okay with associating with them, or anyone else, really, so long as they don’t piss me off too badly.
It’s just that humans tend to die.
Quickly, at that.
These cruel, manipulative and short-lived creatures… I just hate them. The creatures that so aggressively worm themselves into your life and then just sit there like swallowed stones for just a fraction of your time before eventually wiping themselves off the goddamned face of the earth and utterly shredding your entire being in the process. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how something so fleeting could have such a tremendous impact on my life. Meeting humans was probably the worst idea that’s ever gone through my mind. So much boundless suffering all brought on by a creature who was with me for no more than a tenth of my entire existence.
Yet, I can’t stay away from them.
No matter what, these humans - these stupid, entrancing humans - keep shoehorning themselves into my world. Even if they have to physically drag me along with them (this has happened before, and recently), they just cannot seem to leave me alone. God, you’d think they’d at least have enough respect for an immortal descendant of a god to let him live out the rest of his eternity in peace rather than continually and relentlessly tearing him apart from the inside out.
And granted, I can metaphorically “regenerate” from that, just as I can unmetaphorically regenerate from anything you care to physically do to me… it just takes a hell of a lot longer. And it’s about eight-hundred-thousand times worse.
So, I’m not particularly pleased that yet another human has made her way into my existence, as you might guess.
I mean, I actually was trying to avoid them - I swear. But when someone physically drags your unconscious body into their dwelling, it’s a mite difficult to continue to be detached and aloof.
The thing is… this human doesn’t want to die.
I mean, most don’t, but generally not to the extent that their life’s work is searching for a way to defy their own mortality.
In a sense, it’s respectable. If only I could trade places with her, huh?
If nothing else, I’ll stick around this human just a little longer.
Or a lot… if she meets her goal.
Not that I’m getting my hopes up.
By Em Williamson
Humans are vile, ruthless and manipulative creatures.
No matter how hard you try to stay away from them, no matter how much you try to distance yourself from them, they’ll always suck you right back in like some kind of hateful, fleshy black hole.
And this, per se, isn’t what I’m objecting to. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a social person. I’m okay with associating with them, or anyone else, really, so long as they don’t piss me off too badly.
It’s just that humans tend to die.
Quickly, at that.
These cruel, manipulative and short-lived creatures… I just hate them. The creatures that so aggressively worm themselves into your life and then just sit there like swallowed stones for just a fraction of your time before eventually wiping themselves off the goddamned face of the earth and utterly shredding your entire being in the process. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how something so fleeting could have such a tremendous impact on my life. Meeting humans was probably the worst idea that’s ever gone through my mind. So much boundless suffering all brought on by a creature who was with me for no more than a tenth of my entire existence.
Yet, I can’t stay away from them.
No matter what, these humans - these stupid, entrancing humans - keep shoehorning themselves into my world. Even if they have to physically drag me along with them (this has happened before, and recently), they just cannot seem to leave me alone. God, you’d think they’d at least have enough respect for an immortal descendant of a god to let him live out the rest of his eternity in peace rather than continually and relentlessly tearing him apart from the inside out.
And granted, I can metaphorically “regenerate” from that, just as I can unmetaphorically regenerate from anything you care to physically do to me… it just takes a hell of a lot longer. And it’s about eight-hundred-thousand times worse.
So, I’m not particularly pleased that yet another human has made her way into my existence, as you might guess.
I mean, I actually was trying to avoid them - I swear. But when someone physically drags your unconscious body into their dwelling, it’s a mite difficult to continue to be detached and aloof.
The thing is… this human doesn’t want to die.
I mean, most don’t, but generally not to the extent that their life’s work is searching for a way to defy their own mortality.
In a sense, it’s respectable. If only I could trade places with her, huh?
If nothing else, I’ll stick around this human just a little longer.
Or a lot… if she meets her goal.
Not that I’m getting my hopes up.
Pyre Canaries — Chapter one excerpt
by Emily Firmston
Loud bar noises flood my ears as I drunkenly waltz into the tenth pub of the night. My (only) two crew members shyly follow me in, struggling to keep me from falling over. Passing the lute player, I snatch up the string instrument and break it over my knee, earning me few cheers. I throw myself in a chair and slur my order to the waitress, who winks at Mark, my robot. He attempts to wink back, but gets too flustered. My other crewmate, Blue Bobby, a Coroaite, sighs and pats the saddened robot on the back with a blueish webbed hand. The waitress returns with my rum, I down it fast, only to be interrupted by a megaphone blaring from outside the bar.
“We are seizing this bar in the name of the Armada! Everyone exit the building!”
My crimson hair begins to crackle and spark, filling the room with the smell of sulphur as the door is kicked in. The Armada has some balls trying to shut down a Pyrainian bar. My expression darkens further as three Armada troops storm in causing a grey Banshee-elf to scream bloody murder, effectively cracking all the glass in the vicinity. Rum spills through my fingers, mixing with blood due to my tight grip. I scowl.
“Ohgodno.” Mark shrinks back, hugging Bobby, who in turn, is pressed against the red wall, clinging to Mark. I slam my fist down on the redwood. The different aliens file out, some fearfully, others angrily, all slightly tipsy.
“Huh. Not very many Pyrainian scum here today.” One of the Armada Automatons says bursting through the door with two others.
“Yeah. Surprising, am I right?” The taller one laughs.
All right. That’s enough. No one insults my planet. My hair flares up in the pyre our race is known for, and I draw my sabre. The automatons notice me and quickly grab and ready their muskets. Running and leaping forward I slice one in half. Oil leaks out of the body. I look up at the remaining two and narrow my eyes. Lifting the oil-coated sabre to eye level, the solders back up, wide eyed.
“Leave.” I snarl. One nods fearfully, the other looks defiant.
“Gustav. We need to report this to Maximus! You can’t fight her!” the short one sobs, pulling at the other’s arm.
“Otto, you leave. I’ll take care of this.” Gustav readies his musket once more. Otto nods and runs out the door.
“You monster.” He glares. He shoots his gun, bullet flying past my head, although, Mark isn’t so lucky. The musket ball imbeds deep in his forehead, forcing him into a backbend.
“Tch…Pft…AHAHAHA!” I roar clutching my stomach and wobbling backwards. “Y-you really screwed up.” I smile smugly. “You’ve engaged his defense mechanism.”
The usually tame robot steps forward, eyes glowing lime green. He raises his hand, the energy cannon in his palm flaring with light.
“Three… two… one.” Bobby counts.
A flash of light blasts Gustav into a pile of dust. Mark’s internal systems eject the bullet from his head and repair the hole in the white metal.
The bartender, still nonchalantly wiping the counter, looks up. “Good job,” the old Pyrainian says. “I’ll cover the tab. Them Armada’s always causin’ trouble. Like pyre canaries they are, real loud and real hard ta get rid of.”
by Emily Firmston
Loud bar noises flood my ears as I drunkenly waltz into the tenth pub of the night. My (only) two crew members shyly follow me in, struggling to keep me from falling over. Passing the lute player, I snatch up the string instrument and break it over my knee, earning me few cheers. I throw myself in a chair and slur my order to the waitress, who winks at Mark, my robot. He attempts to wink back, but gets too flustered. My other crewmate, Blue Bobby, a Coroaite, sighs and pats the saddened robot on the back with a blueish webbed hand. The waitress returns with my rum, I down it fast, only to be interrupted by a megaphone blaring from outside the bar.
“We are seizing this bar in the name of the Armada! Everyone exit the building!”
My crimson hair begins to crackle and spark, filling the room with the smell of sulphur as the door is kicked in. The Armada has some balls trying to shut down a Pyrainian bar. My expression darkens further as three Armada troops storm in causing a grey Banshee-elf to scream bloody murder, effectively cracking all the glass in the vicinity. Rum spills through my fingers, mixing with blood due to my tight grip. I scowl.
“Ohgodno.” Mark shrinks back, hugging Bobby, who in turn, is pressed against the red wall, clinging to Mark. I slam my fist down on the redwood. The different aliens file out, some fearfully, others angrily, all slightly tipsy.
“Huh. Not very many Pyrainian scum here today.” One of the Armada Automatons says bursting through the door with two others.
“Yeah. Surprising, am I right?” The taller one laughs.
All right. That’s enough. No one insults my planet. My hair flares up in the pyre our race is known for, and I draw my sabre. The automatons notice me and quickly grab and ready their muskets. Running and leaping forward I slice one in half. Oil leaks out of the body. I look up at the remaining two and narrow my eyes. Lifting the oil-coated sabre to eye level, the solders back up, wide eyed.
“Leave.” I snarl. One nods fearfully, the other looks defiant.
“Gustav. We need to report this to Maximus! You can’t fight her!” the short one sobs, pulling at the other’s arm.
“Otto, you leave. I’ll take care of this.” Gustav readies his musket once more. Otto nods and runs out the door.
“You monster.” He glares. He shoots his gun, bullet flying past my head, although, Mark isn’t so lucky. The musket ball imbeds deep in his forehead, forcing him into a backbend.
“Tch…Pft…AHAHAHA!” I roar clutching my stomach and wobbling backwards. “Y-you really screwed up.” I smile smugly. “You’ve engaged his defense mechanism.”
The usually tame robot steps forward, eyes glowing lime green. He raises his hand, the energy cannon in his palm flaring with light.
“Three… two… one.” Bobby counts.
A flash of light blasts Gustav into a pile of dust. Mark’s internal systems eject the bullet from his head and repair the hole in the white metal.
The bartender, still nonchalantly wiping the counter, looks up. “Good job,” the old Pyrainian says. “I’ll cover the tab. Them Armada’s always causin’ trouble. Like pyre canaries they are, real loud and real hard ta get rid of.”
The Lamp Speaks – A micro mini novel
by Alexis Kelly
CHAPTER ONE: DEAR JOHN
Dear John,
I have discovered that I am able to write, it’s amazing. So, I sent your boss a letter of resignation. You now work for me. My next goal is speech, and for now your job is to turn me on when I want to be.
Your friend,
Lamp.
The lamp writes to me. I’m so confused and a little bit scared. I place more paper in front of him. Since when does he have arms!? Oh well.
He writes to me “Pun off?”
– What? I respond with words because of two reasons. I don’t know if he can read, and speech is far less effort then writing. “It’s on,” I smirk.
“Turn it on” the lamp responds, with a bright voice. I suppose he’s suddenly learned to speak now. We begin spitting puns back and forth.
“Aren’t you just shady?” I say.
“Having fun in the spotlight?” Lamp retorts.
“You delight me.”
“I’m attracted to your puns like a moth to me.”
“Or a bee to a bulb”
“Oh snap”
“Yes!” I exclaim. “I have won, lamps and lights don’t snap.”
“Glow sticks? Whatever, you have beaten me this time, JOHN.”
“Why the bold on my name, cool off Lamp you’re a little heated. What are you, incandescent?” I say.
To which the lamp responds sarcastically, “Oh shut up.”
CHAPTER TWO: A PISTOL CLICKS
I wake up to the click of a pistol. The lamp says to me in a velvety voice “Give me a good one liner and I let you live.”
“Wow, I must have made you angry.”
“SHUT UP, give me a line!”
“Thanks for the chance. You could have killed me by now.”
“GO, THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE.”
“Pick a God to enlighten you and pray.”
“NO! A GOOD ONE! I didn’t know how to use this thing anyway.” The lamp says, and throws the gun to the side.
I laugh at him “Oh seriously lamp, you enlighten me with your jokes.”
“Seriously another enlightening pun, do you have anything original?” the lamp asks.
“Doesn’t it turn you on?” I smirk.
“You’re no longer my employee. Go get your job back, I’m moving away.” The lamp says with frustration.
I turn my back, saying, “Okay. I’m gonna get a lamp that isn’t totally creepy.” And when I turn around, the lamp has disappeared, and I wonder if I’m completely crazy. I go and retrieve coffee from the kitchen.
CHAPTER THREE: MY FAVOURITE PANTS
I wake up the next morning refreshed. Going to my closet, I open the door to find “MY FAVOURITE PANTS, THEY’RE GONE!” My first day back to work and that lamp ruined it.” I hear a crash from out the window and quickly go check it out only to see... what? The lamp, seriously?
Wait, I look closer. He’s WEARING MY FAVOURITE PANTS! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? How can he even do that? He’s a lamp!
“It’s on.” The lamp says and I seriously consider if there are any more light puns because the same ones have been used multiple times.
I give up, and retire forever to a dark place called the basement. I’ve been defeated – by a lamp...
by Alexis Kelly
CHAPTER ONE: DEAR JOHN
Dear John,
I have discovered that I am able to write, it’s amazing. So, I sent your boss a letter of resignation. You now work for me. My next goal is speech, and for now your job is to turn me on when I want to be.
Your friend,
Lamp.
The lamp writes to me. I’m so confused and a little bit scared. I place more paper in front of him. Since when does he have arms!? Oh well.
He writes to me “Pun off?”
– What? I respond with words because of two reasons. I don’t know if he can read, and speech is far less effort then writing. “It’s on,” I smirk.
“Turn it on” the lamp responds, with a bright voice. I suppose he’s suddenly learned to speak now. We begin spitting puns back and forth.
“Aren’t you just shady?” I say.
“Having fun in the spotlight?” Lamp retorts.
“You delight me.”
“I’m attracted to your puns like a moth to me.”
“Or a bee to a bulb”
“Oh snap”
“Yes!” I exclaim. “I have won, lamps and lights don’t snap.”
“Glow sticks? Whatever, you have beaten me this time, JOHN.”
“Why the bold on my name, cool off Lamp you’re a little heated. What are you, incandescent?” I say.
To which the lamp responds sarcastically, “Oh shut up.”
CHAPTER TWO: A PISTOL CLICKS
I wake up to the click of a pistol. The lamp says to me in a velvety voice “Give me a good one liner and I let you live.”
“Wow, I must have made you angry.”
“SHUT UP, give me a line!”
“Thanks for the chance. You could have killed me by now.”
“GO, THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE.”
“Pick a God to enlighten you and pray.”
“NO! A GOOD ONE! I didn’t know how to use this thing anyway.” The lamp says, and throws the gun to the side.
I laugh at him “Oh seriously lamp, you enlighten me with your jokes.”
“Seriously another enlightening pun, do you have anything original?” the lamp asks.
“Doesn’t it turn you on?” I smirk.
“You’re no longer my employee. Go get your job back, I’m moving away.” The lamp says with frustration.
I turn my back, saying, “Okay. I’m gonna get a lamp that isn’t totally creepy.” And when I turn around, the lamp has disappeared, and I wonder if I’m completely crazy. I go and retrieve coffee from the kitchen.
CHAPTER THREE: MY FAVOURITE PANTS
I wake up the next morning refreshed. Going to my closet, I open the door to find “MY FAVOURITE PANTS, THEY’RE GONE!” My first day back to work and that lamp ruined it.” I hear a crash from out the window and quickly go check it out only to see... what? The lamp, seriously?
Wait, I look closer. He’s WEARING MY FAVOURITE PANTS! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? How can he even do that? He’s a lamp!
“It’s on.” The lamp says and I seriously consider if there are any more light puns because the same ones have been used multiple times.
I give up, and retire forever to a dark place called the basement. I’ve been defeated – by a lamp...