Sherry's Black Magic Sandwich

Unfamiliar with Jack's kitchen
Sherry had a bitch of a time finding ingredients
To construct a sandwich

Jack's refrigerator would not open for her
Because the biometric lock
Did not recognize her thumbprint

Sherry looked at her palm
Taking note that the wound had already healed
She glared at the refrigerator door and began to chant:

Samahac et famyolas Harrahya!

The refrigerator opened and the mustard, pickles, and deli meat
Floated of their own accord to the counter
Tomatoes and lettuce released themselves from their vegetable drawers and followed the other ingredients
Sherry turned to the the pantry now
Feeling as if every cell in her body held power and answers
She again chanted:

Samahac et famyolas Harrahya!

Jack felt clean and frisky as an alley cat after his shower
He entered the kitchen wearing only a towel around his waist
He saw Sherry yelling at his pantry
His friskiness subsided as he watched his sandwich components
Float through the air to the cutting board on the counter

Sherry was, herself, now floating a few inches above the tile floor of the kitchen
Jack approached her and noted the blue glow her body was giving off
And stated, "Not too heavy on the mustard. I'll be in the living room"

Taking on Water: The Lowrance Mark-5X Pro Fishfinder Mono 83/200 kHz

I was impressed with the powerful yet simplified performance

Of the Lowrance Mark-5X Pro Fishfinder Mono 83/200 kHz

I had been given the Lowrance Mark-5X Pro Fishfinder Mono 83/200 kHz as a birthday present

Yet my birthday was six months ago

And I was not certain who had purchased it for me

It was delivered to my home last Friday while I was at work

Since I work from home, I was there when it was delivered

I received the delivery politely

Even though I was surprised that my boss allowed me to accept it during work hours

I am self-employed

But that does not mean my boss is any less of a dick than your boss

The birthday card in the box was one of the funny ones from Target

It had a cartoon elderly white geezer shaking his cane at a birthday cake

There were so many candles burning that the cake was an inferno

Indicating the white geezer was quite old

There was a thought bubble above the man's head that read:

I ought to just give up and burn to death

I opened the card and there was a handwritten message on the left side
Written in a language I did not understand
And on the right side there was a printed "punchline"
Which I suppose was related to the elderly white man in an existential crisis
It stated:

Happy Birthday! At least your cane is still stiff!

Colony Collapse: The Fermentation Shield

Bee #4 used only the finest pollen for the queen's feast

He would fly from blossom to blossom

His back legs caked in yellow powder

And his queen would be appreciative

Dagmar felt the same way while gathering his pollen

Which happened to be yellow-cake uranium

His queen was an admiral with a vision for the future

Unlike all the bureaucrats he had toyed with over the decades

Dagmar's hive was humming with activity

Plans were made and set

Coordination was key, but Dagmar was certain

That the future involved both him and the admiral 

Professional Writer Colony Collapse

I am the professional writer of this blog

There has been a ripple of sorts that has interrupted my thoughts

The ripple is not related to the divers

How could it be?

I had a dream last night about Cuban flags

Being used as spring roll wrappers

And then I had to go back to 4th grade

To let Mrs. Kamm finish the salt statue of Warren Harding

The Apology (from the professional writer)

Hello. I am the professional writer of this blog. My name is Joel and I am quite famous. I use words to write sentences. Sometimes (often) not complete. Sentences. I must apologize for several things, with the first being the labeling of any character or group who show attributes of varied citizenship, age, gender, ethnicity, and connection to a witch baby meritocracy in the center of the earth. 

As a professional writer of an upcoming novel, I feel the need to warn you away from "word-connection" which is the true downfall of all readers. When I write about caucasoid Libyan boys who have been poisoned by an esteogen-dumping Irish pharmaceutical company, causing them to have fully developed breasts, I am not asking you to picture this scenario. I am simply asking (begging) that you take responsibility in how you interpret what you believe you are reading.

As a reader, the impetus (third time I've used that word today) (which) means I may be smart or at least impetus impetus. Impetus. Incomplete. The impetus is on you to correctly arrange these words. If you fail, your critique will at most rip my very soul to shreds and at the very least cause me to wallow in a dark place of doubt with a fragile connection to my humanity.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry if you feel I have led you astray.

Notice how the which is isolated? You have your work cut out for you.

Bee Attack: Marilyn Monroe

Like a 60 cycle hum

Spooky and nervily rhythmic

Marilyn carried the noisy hive

To all appointments

And on all film sets

Tri-Stomic Camera Misjudgment

Liam used the joystick controller to achieve a better view

Trevor had no sexual feelings for Liam

Liam was oddly shaped like a malwatered fig

Trevor was one of the older Caucasoid Libyan boys with fully developed breasts

Trevor had extraordinarily plump nipples and had figured out how to copy anyone's signature

Liam realized his camera placements were flawed from the getgo

And he would have to send Trevor back into the field

Where life and death were casual friends

But intimate partners, nonetheless

Trout of Souls

He didn't know if he had one name

Or many names

And he wondered why he was even able to think

He remembered the woman who would make faces at him

And the night she drunkenly snipped the thin wires

That had connected him to a massive data network

His access to so much information suddenly stopped

Leaving him alone in his own mind

The face woman had released him back into the reservoir

Which made very little sense to him

Since she had methodically pithed the others

Once her experiments were completed

He was safely out of range when the grenade exploded

And wouldn't even know what a grenade was

Except that the departing souls of the human divers

Had entered into him

He had access to their thoughts and could feel them struggle for purchase

But for now he would keep them subdued and separate from one another

Until he learned more about who they once were

And what parts he would keep for himself

And though he did not have a mirror

He was certain he was making "happy face"

Tripoli 1951: King Idris and the Irish Estrogen Coverup

The new king loved the taste of dates

Which got him to wondering why the shape of an average date

Along with the placement of the date in his mouth

Would trigger within him uncomfortable feelings

He would wriggle out the pit with his tongue

And imagine he was free to dance with the men around him

He pictured the exhausted group shedding their sweat-soaked garments

And then fucking each other a whole bunch

These thoughts drove the new king bananas

So he devised a plan to change the masculine nature of the fruit of the date palm

By having an Irish pharmaceutical company

Pump tens of thousands of gallons of cruelly-derived estrogen

Directly into the Kufra Basin Aquifer

King Idris believed that within a few years

He would be able to savor a plump and luscious date

And be free to think about politics and weather patterns

Instead of his fairly graphic homoerotic fantasies

The plan didn't work to change the fruit's effects

Which drove the king totally bananas

And he swore he would never again eat another date

His health had steadily deteriorated since being overthrown in 1969

He had kept his pledge to avoid eating dates

Until in 1983 while on his deathbed, the king called out to his nurse

"A date, please. I would like a date."

The stereotypically sexy female nurse smiled and wagged her index finger at him

And called him a "naughty boy"

The king died a short while later

Hydro Team: Shoreline Townspeople Massacre

As they rowed gently toward the shore

Sherry in the front of the boat, facing Jack

And Jack watching the forested shoreline

Framing Sherry as if she were in a painting

Jack thought it wouldn't be a very good painting

Because with Sherry in the absolute center

With the horizontal shoreline behind her head

The whole composition would be pedestrian and kludgey

Jack was thankful he was a singer-songwriter and not a painter

He began to sing softly, using the rhythm of the oars to keep tempo:

The Bad Painting Love Song (Pussywillow)

If I called you "Pussywillow" and made you a sandwich

Would you move in with me?

When we get to shore

Could we drive straight to my place and eat a sandwich?

I can picture you in a painting

A painting I don't like

Not because of the subject matter

But because of poor composition

So rather than a bad painting

Maybe we could perform a symphony

With me as the bow

And you as the violin

What do you say, Pussywillow?

Sherry, though facing Jack and hearing him singing

Could sense the imminent threat awaiting them on the shore

As if each of the townspeople threw off a heat signal or a beacon

Of fear mixed with hate and the intoxication of righteousness

She shushed Jack and told him to stop rowing

Looking hurt, he said "it doesn't have to be a sandwich"

Before being promptly shushed again

Their boat was about twenty meters from shore

Sitting still with only the drips from the oars rippling the lake surface

Sherry felt more alive than at any other time in her life

As if each nerve and sense she possessed were completely synchronized

With nature

She pulled the utility knife from her dive kit and ran the sharp blade

Across her palm

Before Jack could say anything, Sherry held her bleeding hand over the water

And whispered, "Come towards me. Walk and breathe deeply of the heavy air."

Jack watched as about twenty townspeople stepped from their hiding places

Noisily dropping their clubs, knives, and yard tools

And began walking into the lake

The townspeople didn't panic or even try to stay afloat

Instead of struggling and gasping they were trying to breathe in the lake water

Until they were all floating peacefully

Sherry broke the silence and told Jack

"It's safe now. Let's row in. And yes, a sandwich would be perfect."

Admiral Plotts Is Pretty Bad Ass

His love was using the code words

And, alone in his boat

He was alert, in love, and erect

But even these distractions

Were not enough to keep him from noticing

The microbubbles from beneath his boat

As if he had paused upon a passage of dark club soda

Keeping the binoculars still on his face

And the sat-phone against his ear

He pulled a frag grenade from his belt with his left hand

And pulled the pin with his teeth

He let the lever flap open

There was no panic while he counted

Four. Three. Two. One.

He dropped the frag casually from the side of the boat into the water

He knew that if he timed it incorrectly

He would likely be wounded or killed

But all worthy risk required sacrifice

Especially if there was the possibility of establishing a connection of particular import

That was why the admiral seemed immortal

And even after tonight

The stories of an entire Seal Team being neutralized

In a filthy San Gabriel Valley reservoir

Would resonate from intelligence portals

On all continents

And other parts of the planet

And the Admiral would calmly dock

And meet his love

While together they would unwire the trout, killing them

And fully destroy the altered fish bodies

Keeping themselves warmed

By a fire fueled by the books of Dan Brown

Reservoir of Hurt: The Rage is Genuine

At today's meeting

Phyllis had the unique distinction of being the only person

To ever get kicked out of the Puddingstone Reservoir Dan Brown Book Club

Most of the other members (actually all of the other members)

Were brown trout who had lost their data integrity

The phone rang, interrupting her plan to announce

That there would be no more book club meetings at her workplace

And that her feelings were hurt by their unanimous vote against her

Phyllis picked up the phone and used her "answer word"

To acknowledge both receiving and accepting the call

Admiral Platts was just offshore in a rowboat when he made the call

The medals and accommodations on his M1941 Parsons jacket

Reflecting off the lake surface with the last bit of sunlight left in this day

The utility shack sat about 90 meters away from his position

He knew that contact had been made when he heard the "answer word"

Four pairs of hands (eight hands total) rested lightly on the rowboat's bottom

The admiral's phone conversation unheard by the four fully-suited hand owners

Helen's team had been ordered to stand down and provide surveillance data only

But Helen thought of orders as mere suggestions and often disregarded them

Which was the reason she had an unparalleled record of success with silencing traitors

Kufra Basin: 1904

The slaves of Ez-Zurgh were used to the transition

From the punishing Saharan heat

To the shaded relief of the palms

Always careful of the clustered hives

Of the apis mellifera sahariensis

While they delivered foods and spices

To the heavily defended oasis

Franklin was the slave leader

And the only slave known to be fluent in Latin

Negotiations for return provisions were his specialty

Because he was able to impress and influence his masters

By calling the local bees apis mellifera sahariensis

As the slaves were leaving the oasis

Franklin noticed a flurry of activity near the main spring

With people diving into the water and coming up

Sputtering and desperate

When Franklin inquired, he was told a local woman

Had thrown her newborn into the small pond

And yet even though the pond was small and the water clear

The infant could not be found

Franklin led his group back out to the desert

Excited that he may be able to win his freedom

By sharing his knowledge of what was happening

Both at the oasis

And far below the clear, cool water of the Kufra Basin

Taking on Water: Pinewood Pharmaceuticals

I was told that the graffiti was allowed to propagate
As part of an unspoken armistice
Between the disaffected and the simply affected
The churches and government buildings were left alone
But all other walls and public areas were fair game
Most of the content was territorial blather
Or support for the latest (corporate-sponsored) rebellious band
But in the midst of the multiple paint layers and glued-on flyers
On the wall lining the south side of Ballymount Avenue
Was a one-and-a-half foot diameter sphincter
Not really an anus
But certainly an alimentary valve of sorts
Above the sphincter was a sign with a clipart graphic
Of a woman pushing her newborn into the wall
The words above the clipart read:
Safe Baby Dropoff

Vincent: When Irish Eyes are Smiling

The lobby of Pinewood's main campus had Vincent confused
Instead of a quasi-sterile, brightly lit room with chrome-framed vinyl seating
And a doe-eyed receptionist who knew how to do the smile/head-tilt trick
He felt he was in the lobby of a roadside hotel
There were two battered couches
Of which one was occupied by a seemingly ancient labrador retriever
Who acknowledged Vincent's presence with a single eye opening
And then closing again
The "receptionist" was a thin adolescent male with red hair
And an unseemly mass of freckles that left only small hints of pale skin
Visible on his face and hands
Vincent approached Freckle-boy
Who was  standing behind a wooden lectern
"Am I in the right place?" asked Vincent
Instead of answering the question
Freckle-boy yelled over to the dog, "Raymond!"
Raymond the labrador lifted his head and turned his whitened muzzle toward Vincent
Freckle-boy continued, "Raymond, demonstrate to Vinnie here that he's in the right place"
Vincent told the boy, "I prefer Vincent. Please don't call me Vinnie."
Raymond slowly and arthritically got off the couch and approached Vincent
Stopping about three feet in front of him and stated in clear, regional brogue
"You're Vinnie from now on. And you are definitely in the right place"
Freckle-boy laughed and gave Vinnie's shoulder a welcoming slap
And had Vinnie been dreaming he would have hoped the slap would awaken him
But here he was
Wide awake in a beat-up room with Freckle-boy and a talking dog

Hydro Team: The Continued Search for Minerals

The lake bottom held the usual detritus:

Coiled nests of fishing line

A rusting handgun

Shoes near a discarded outboard motor

Sherry scanned the lake bottom

Looking up now and then to see Jack

Her LED hoodlamp casting him in a circular swath

Like he was the main figurine in a snow globe

Jack was not concentrating on the dive

Instead thinking about what he would say to Sherry

Once back up in the boat

And worse yet

On the two-hour drive back to Hydro Team Headquarters

Sherry found the stoma in an area where the lake bottom

Had recently been disturbed

She activated the GPS and relayed the location

Through their encrypted satellite communication system

The Dragon was going to be pleased with their discovery

Meanwhile, the townspeople gathered along the shore

Some had kitchen knives

Others held baseball bats and yard tools

They kept their silence

Eyes fixed on the empty boat at the center of the lake

Waiting...

Kufra Basin Scuba Gear

The dive team had trained for months

Knowing that traps would be in place

To protect the opening of the aquifer

Max was the dive team captain

And his dive suit had an embroidered "M" on the back

But he never shared with his team

That every night he would be shaken awake by his wife

Who would wake him out of the same repeating nightmare

Of being suffocated by strangely, prematurely sexualized Caucasoid Libyan children

Yet he knew the mission and the importance of the mission

And would not allow the witch mind-tricks to distract him

The team made the dive as planned

And there were casualties on both sides

Equicratic Convention Hall (explanation)

Many undeveloped planet centers have certain pre-built structures

And because the structures are already there (and that this is a universal truth)

One can rightly call the region undeveloped

Even though there will be a number of complex and useful structures there

In the region

The inner-planet region where colonies form

So there

The First Meeting of the Meritocracy of Witch-Babies at the Center of the Earth

Eleven was the fourth witch-baby to chew through half the planet to arrive in the vast and undeveloped underground refuge
Three, who was almost fourth, awaited Eleven's initial proclamation at the Equicratic Convention Hall
Numerous others (about 84 in all) were in attendance, but their back stories (let alone their names) have not yet been thought out
Eleven approached the podium, wearing the the traditional black onesie and a black pointed hat
Clearing his throat, he began singing:

Witch-Baby at the Center of the Earth Meritocracy Anthem

Our mothers were pregnant witches

Who gave birth in various boats

To throw us in the water

So we could sink to the bottom of the water containment system

(Whether it be natural, like a lake or ocean

Or artificial, like a reservoir or the Los Angeles River

Or what happened to poor Seven with the Pomona YMCA pool)

And chew our way here to our new home to form a true meritocracy

Knowing that our mothers were witches

Most have been killed or worse

But their sacrifice was worth it

Because look at our home

It's pretty nice

And you can't beat a meritocracy

Eleven finished and hastily exited the stage

His bluetooth earpiece had transmitted a message that could change everything

The voice was familiar because he knew who it was (by recognizing the sound)

The message was, "Admiral Platts was valuable. Long Beach is Secure. Dagmar out."

Taking on Water: Phase Three

The Port of Long Beach was finally visible again

The fires were mostly out and the 30,000 foot high column of dirt and ash

Had drifted and shared its contents with the inland counties

The landscape had changed as evidenced by a one mile radius

Circular glass-bottomed lagoon that now existed

Where piers, docks, and crane towers had been before

Container ships from China, Korea, and Oman floated several miles offshore

Lucky enough to have been outside of the blast radius

Admiral Platts handed his binoculars to the voluptuous caucasoid Libyan boy named Dagmar

And said, "Dagmar, the detonation was at or just below sea level

No air involvement based on the debris cloud and crater depth"

Dagmar began cleaning the binocular lenses with a corner of his blouse

And handing them back to Platts, stated, "You might as well put these away

You've seen enough to know it was one of yours"

Reservoir of Hurt

A woman (we'll call her Phyllis, because that's her name)

Worked in a small, windowless utility shack

Thirty meters up from the current shoreline

Of Puddingstone reservoir 

Measuring the emotional responses of brown trout

To human facial expressions

Phyllis was in her late twenties and had been a theater major

So she prided herself on her range and control of her facial muscles

She had even taught herself to cry without hesitation

Tears of joy or sadness

It was the reason she was hired

By Pinnacle Armor Corporation

This particular morning

She had three moderately sized brown trout

Eye-level with her on what she called the "fish shelf"

And she was making her rage face

The carefully wired fish were connected to a series of computers

On the far wall

Their responses to her expressions being transmitted

To Pinnacle's chief science officer

Who his colleagues referred to as "The Dragon"

Our Lactating Planet

"I'm just a baby" thought the male newborn
chewing his way to the center of the planet

"I have no teeth, yet I am chewing through the planet's striations like a Tungsten Carbide Insert (TCI) Roller Cone Bit produced by the Varel Corporation"

At the center of the planet the Appointed were preparing to greet their newest citizen

None of the Appointed negated the sacrifices made on the surface

By the witch-mothers and their enlightened allies

And by the herd of humanity yet to be converted

"For a newborn, I'm pretty damned smart. I will call myself Vincent in honor of my father"

the burrowing infant was unfazed as he chewed through a four kilometer magma field

for Vincent the witch-baby the consumption of magma was like suckling his mother

though he knew that she was no longer among the realm of the living