Another person once told me, write what you know. I coulda read it somewhere. I think it was the spider that lives in my closet. He's fulla wisdom n' stuff. So I decided to buckle down and write something. It'll be quarky, random and might end abruptly if I get bored with it. Probably be a short story. But, I'm writing, it's a start. For your entertainment, I present:
"Twelve"
Just a story set in the modern "future" about a guy and his friends. They're big into sports, messing with each other, causing the random ruckus about town and keeping the money coming in.
... You're all waiting for the other shoe to drop, aren't you? "Oh that Flake, he so cuh-raaaazay. He ain't gonna make the story as simple as that."
It's a simple story about that group of friends, three of whom are of alien origin, two from earth, one extra-dimensional being, and a rabid monkey named 'Furious George' all of whom play a sport called "Bloodball" which consists of uploading a virtual image of yourself into a no-holds-barred deathmatch where the purpose is to annihilate anyone and everything and big wins yield big bucks. The sport is funded by the military, ironically, who have the "players" on contract to get drafted for whatever reason they choose. The ragtag crew of players are lead by a human named Jachun McCalmington, otherwise known as Flake. Flake used to be in a secret organization that planned to overthrow the government on their planet, Alath'Der (Earth has gone missing; that's right. I said missing) This organization called Fate's Hand used drugs to override their soldiers emotions and supply their bodies with artificial adrenaline, creating emotionless powerhouse soldiers. Too bad when they innoculated Flake with their serum it didn't mix well with the Battle System F.U.N.G.L.E.S chip that had been implemented in his head at birth. Of course, the doctors who did it had been exterminated and the project had been declared a bust.
So Mr. Flake, leading a team of aliens and powerhouse players in a game of BloodBall with artificial body enhancers that go out of whack when the F.U.N.G.L.E.S. in his head goes off, suddenly learns his sport is being cut off and is for some reason, charged with the disappearance of his former friend and head CEO of the Cyberium Gaming League and that his alien-cat girlfriend has gone missing. It's a good thing they have a space-ship to fly out of Atmosphere too; Flake's last unofficial medical exam, necessary to play in the BloodBall matrix games, just diagnosed him with paranoid Schizophrenia.
They told me to write what I know. The world is not prepared.
