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Ooh! Candy!

Thanks for the votes, guys. And congrats to the other winners and everyone who participated. Now to think of an intriguing shape...

I come home on a Saturday night and what do I find waiting for me? A new podcast!

A few quick observations:
* Grundy derides others for not playing text parser games, yet he has never played Fallout or Tex Murphy. For shame!
* Why wasn't the performance by Ben and the 304s podcasted or streamed over the web? Surely the tubes could handle the strain!
* Australia, the deadliest continent on Earth, mandates bicycle helmets and bells? Isn't that a minor concern in a country where spiders devour entire towns?!?

All in all, another fine episode. My DangerSex^TM quota for the week has been met and I can sleep soundly tonight. Well done, gentlemen.

Great entries all around. My votes go to...

1) The witch takes first place because it's a classic costume idea.
2) Yoda because George Lucas brainwashed me as a child and I feel compelled to support him in all things.
3) Canine Portal for being the only one that made me laugh when I saw it.

And happy b-day to Scorpiorus. I've gotten a lot of use out of your old snow/rain plugin over the years.

Darn you, kids! Stop downfalling the civilizations! Your parents and grandparents worked very hard on that civilization, so stop it at once! And get off my lawn! I'm trying to have sex on teh tubes!!

No, Ponch, sex in person still DOES happen. Don't worry about it buddy.

What? I thought you kids today had evolved beyond that sort of thing. I'm almost certain I read about it on the tubes! And the tubes wouldn't lie to me, would they?

Nasty stuff indeed. I don't really get it though. I remember when you got a virus from a FLOPPY DISK.

That's only because you're old, Ghost. That was way back when people still had sex in person instead of through the intertubes like we do today. It was a frightening, uncertain time (and messy!). We're all better off that such days are behind us and no one has to go out into the daylight anymore.

And thanks for the warning, DBoy!

I miss having time to write

There's always time to write. I do most of my writing on my lunch break or just before bed. Ten minutes here, fifteen minutes there. It adds up. And you've got a couple of days before the deadline. There's still time to write a spooky morsel of a story.

[Buried Bones]

Buried Bones

by Ponch T. Cow, esquire

    There was something odd about the food dish. If he could have read, he would have noticed how freshly painted the word "Biscuit" was, as though another name had been there before and had recently been removed. But Douglas was not the sort of dog who did much reading. He wasn't one of those superstar dogs you see on TV who found bombs or solved crimes or rescued lost hikers. No, Douglas was your run of the mill mutt.

    "Biscuit, you're going to love it here with us."

    The little human threw both her arms around his neck awkwardly and squeezed. Darkness began to fuzz the edges of his vision as she loved the life slowly from him.

    "Honey! Not so hard. Okay?" It was the larger human who spoke. Her hands gently pulled the smaller arms away from his throat, allowing blood to rush back into his brain.

    "Thank you, tall human with too much perfume," he wagged woozily. "Your little human continues to strangle me periodically and it displeases me, making me fear for my life. Also, my name is Douglas, not Biscuit. There appears to be some confusion on that matter."

    "But Biscuit loves hugging, Mom!"

    "No, he doesn't," he replied. "And it's Douglas, if you please, small human."

    "Biscuit's still getting to know us, Sweetie."

    "Douglas," he yawned. "I've been Douglas all my life. It is unreasonable for you to ask me to assume a new identity. I'm not a fugitive from the law, you know. That incident with Animal Control was a misunderstanding, I assure you."

    He hopped down from the Toyota 4Runner (which, if could have read and had also been an English major, would have caused him to cringe). The larger human slipped a leash onto his cheap, plastic collar. He missed his old leather one. It smelled of many a great adventure.

    "Now take Biscuit into the backyard and show him his new house."

    "But can't he sleep with me? Just for tonight?" The whining tone was harsh on his sensitive ears.

    "No, Sweetie. We already talked about this. Remember?"

    "But Mooooommmmmmmmm!!"

    Douglas flattened his ears. "Oh dear Holy Bone! Control your pup, human!"

    The large one lead her wailing little one through a gate and into a lush backyard. Guarded on three sides by a fence and capped by a house with an exciting sliding glass door, the yard was watched over by a large oak tree.

    "Ah, my large friend. I am going to pee on you many times, I assure you." He nodded for emphasis.

    "Show him his new house, Sweetie."

    "Kay." And she pulled hard on the leash.

    "Point and I would be happy to go! No need to get rough!" he gasped with boggling eyes.

    "See? This is your new home, Biscuit." She patted her small hands against the roof of the little doghouse.

    "Say!" thought Douglas, "This isn't bad! Not bad at all."

    He poked his nose inside and sniffed things out. A blanket, a couch cushion, a ball, an old shoe. He had hit the jackpot. He would live like a king here. His tail wagged in delight.

    "He likes it, Mom! He likes it!"

    Douglas nibbled experimentally on the shoe. It was just old enough to be chew worthy, but still new enough to be good and stinky. Delightful!

    Behind him, the little one was trying to pat his rump. He farted on her to discourage this, but she only giggled. The larger one set down the food dish and filled it with a small avalanche of savory smelling pellets. With a explosion of energy, Douglas circled around and zipped past the little one, racing to bury his muzzle in a pile of food. With eager hands, she reached for him again.

    "You touch this food and I swear by all that's holy, I will chew those stubby little nubs off! Let the Eternal Leash have my soul! I don't care!" he growled at her, eyes fixed, still chewing.

    "B-biscuit?" her voice was small and scared.

    "Honey, you know better than to pet a dog while he's eating."

    "But I thought he might need a hug." She sounded on the verge of tears. "I do."

    Douglas sighed and paused in his eating. He trotted over to her and licked her face, leaving a generous amount of crumbs for her to snack on later.

    "Thank you for the meal," he slobbered. "Maybe these last few weeks in the city pound put me on edge. Hard time changes a fellow. But I don't want you to think I'm the ungrateful sort."

    He trotted back to his bowl and resumed eating. The little girl sat there for a moment, her eyes wide, her face glistening with half-chewed dog food.

    "Yuck," she finally said.

    "Shows what you know," he munched happily. "You think you can get dessicated horse meat kibble like this on the streets? Not a chance, little one."

    "Come on, Honey. Let's get you inside and get you cleaned up. It's almost dinner time," the larger human was trying not to laugh as she scooped the smaller one up. And with that, the two humans went inside their much larger house.

    It must be packed with blankets and shoes in there, Douglas scratched to himself, his hind leg finding a particularly nice spot behind his ear. I'll bet they have squeaky toys too. Squeaky toys they're not sharing with me, the selfish curs.

    Still, he shouldn't complain. The food was nice. And the little house looked warm. Just a few months on the street had taught him to cherish what he had. The big, nice yard he'd grown up in was only a memory now. It and the big house had been lost to something called a "mortgage" and he'd accidentally been left behind when his family had moved. He missed his family and he hoped that by the grace of the Blessed Bone those people had somehow managed to get along without him.

    Douglas considered his new little home for a moment and wondered if the "mortgage" would send a "bank" after this one too. Best not to worry about it, he decided. All he could do was pee all around the yard and keep an eye out for any banks that might come nosing around. For the moment, the sun was setting and it got cold early this time of year. What was the point of having a house and blanket if you weren't going to use them? He trotted inside, circled twice, and lay down. The day's warmth was still lingering in here, making the place nice and cozy. He sighed in contentment.

    "I suppose if they keep feeding me and letting me keep this blanket, I might learn to start over as 'Biscuit.' It's miles and miles better than the cold metal cage downtown," he thought with half-closed eyes. "But what about the dog that had lived here before? I can smell him faintly on the walls and in this blanket. Well, sucks to be him, I suppose. That's what he gets for wandering off and leaving an opening for me to move in. Got what he deserved, if you ask me."

    I didn't move out, you fool. I was murdered.

    The voice came from behind him. Douglas leaped up (as much as was possible in such a small space) to find a ghost dog sniffing at his hindquarters! It wasn't the first ghost Douglas had seen, of course. With their sharp senses, dogs saw ghosts all the time. It was a small trade-off for not being able to see the color blue.

    "Get out of my house, buddy!" growled Douglas.

    Milkshake, not Buddy. And it was my house first, Biscuit.

    "Douglas!"

    We don't have time to argue, Biscuit. I've come down from the Kennel In The Sky to warn you: Beware the Sticky One!

    "Sticky One?"

    The little one! She of the uncountable hugs! She of the sticky, stubby fingers! It was she who killed me! She'll be the death of you too!

    "Oh, Blessed Bone! She hugged you to death!" Douglas whimpered.

    Worse! She sneaked me treats from the kitchen table!

    "Awesome! I've misjudged her!"

    No! Not awesome! She's young! She has no idea what sort of food makes for an appropriate treat! the ghost dog warned, attempting to chew the old shoe with spectral teeth and failing. She was always bringing me food while her mother washed the dishes. And it was great! ... Right up until the night she brought me fish.

    "Fish? What's fish?" Douglas cocked his head at the ghost.

    It's sort of like chicken... but more fishy. And it's filled with bones!

    "Hey! I love bones!" Douglas licked his snout in anticipation of fish. "How do I go about getting some of this fish stuff?"

    Not these bones! They're tiny! They go down smooth. But the next thing you know... he gestured at the oak tree outside. You'll find yourself buried in a "toaster oven" box in the shade of that tree.

    "Hmmm. Maybe I don't want fish," Douglas woofed softly.

    "Biscuit! Here, boy!" The Sticky One whispered from just outside the dog house.

    She was barefoot and wearing light cotton clothes covered with cartoon bunnies. Her face was clean and Douglas hoped she enjoyed the kibble as much as he had. She held a warm little bundle, wrapped in a paper napkin. She held it out for him. He raced outside to sniff it.

    "Is it fish? Gosh, I hope it's fish!" he laughed, barely able to contain his excitement. Whatever it was, it smelled fantastic.

    Biscuit! No! the ghost dog warned from just beyond the range of the little girl's senses.

    "See? It's meatloaf," she said, unwrapping it for him and sparing him the indignity of chewing his way into the bundle.

    "Meatloaf? My stars! it's amazing! Chewy! Meaty! Not cold and dry at all. I've never had anything so intoxicating!" he gushed, chewing it happily, and circling her with boundless energy.

    You fool. You must be more careful next time. Or else you're sure to suffer my fate!

    Douglas wasn't listening. He licked her fingers and made plans to dig around the oak tree tomorrow. There were bones buried down there somewhere, and he was determined to find them.

THE END

Is this the thread where we line up to hug Ascovel?

Is it me or has there been a one-year space-continuum gap in this thread?

These sorts of things happen when you're a spaceman... in space!

Ponch: Your dedication to the podcast is most admirable!

Shhh! I'm listening to the podcast! If you're going to make noise, go outside and wait on the curb with my girlfriend!

Gravity was pretty amazing.  First movie I've ever seen in 3d and I can't imagine seeing it in 2d.

This goes double for you, Shakespeare hater!

Darn it! I was about to take my girlfriend out to see Gravity. But now I have to tell her to call a cab and get out of my apartment... The new podcast is up!

Weird Science (Of Sleep)?

Yeah, I still pee the bed

Ah ha! I've long suspected that monocle and pickelhaube were clear indicators that you were overcompensating for something. And now the truth comes out at last!

Also, count me in for the contest. I'm hashing out an idea already.

Andail's post highlights something that games were never afraid to do back in the day: allow the player to explore and learn things for themselves without fear of them getting bored/impatient with a game. ... Lose that, and you've lost one of the aspects that makes a game an enjoyable experience.

I agree completely. I'm tired of games holding my hand through every encounter. Either my map is covered in waypoints and objective flags, or everything I can interact with had a golden sheen on it so I can't miss it.

I miss the days of hidden areas, secret levels, and more than one way to the goal.

Well I suppose rock flatulence is better than the Tenacious D style of ripping your pants open (man, such a bad movie).

Heresy!

Happy birthday, Cat

Igor wants to scare the kids of Canada on Halloween night, but he doesn't want to trudge through a meter of fresh snow while he's there. What to do, what to do?

[imgzoom]http://www.barnrunner.com/pics/misc/Coloring-Ball-Igor.png[/imgzoom]

One spooky snowmobile rental later and he's ready to don his stylish orange ski suit, his purple scarf, and his goggles (safety first, kids) and head north to scare some trick or treaters!

Sweet! A new episode!