Ghost of Christmas Moose Excerpt

Little scene from a 7 page short story, one of these days I'll get to the much needed edit/rewrite.

***

"Mmm, babe. You know it!" Tan purred as she wrapped her arm around me as the snow continued to fall. We turned around, looked back over our shoulders and gave the vanishing crazed rabid ninja one last look.

Lady Blue wildly swung her balled fist into the air as she continued to follow the crazy jerky moose. The angry kunoichi snarled, “I killed you before, I’ll kill you again!” as she raced into an opening. The skillful ninja lost track of the moose as the snow fell harder; Blue looked around and saw a snowman standing in the middle of nowhere.

She blinked her violet eyes as she saw the snowman smile at her; she shook her pretty little blue head that was quickly piling up with white puffs of gentle snow. He continued to smile as his stick arm motioned for her to come over.

Behind the snowman a stood an old fashion drive thru movie wall; it turned to black as Blue neared. An HD movie with state-of-the-art surround sound began to play; Blue saw a tiny sleigh with nine reindeer flying through the dark skies, a US Navy fighter with forward swept wings was escorting the sleigh as The Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s Sarajevo 24/7 began to ominously play. Suddenly she heard my desperate voice over a menacing tone, “Santa! Can you get Rudolph to turn off his nose?”

“Sorry lad, he can’t,” Santa replied just before my HUD (Heads Up Display) turned a deep crimson red.

“Missile warning, Missile warning,” a soft voice repeated over in my helmet as the words blinked on my HUD.

“Incoming!” I thundered and pulled my F/A-39 Crusader II into a sharp turn away from Santa; the nimble fighter belched flares and a chaff cloud as it raced away from Saint Nick. The QSAM (Quick-maneuvering Surface-to-Air Missile) locked onto my nimble fighter and streaked away from the Jolly Ol’ Elf and his reindeer.

“Doom must really be peeved at me,” I thought as I experienced chest crushing G-forces. I huffed and grunted as the deadly missile neared; my bird shrieked as she continued to turn tighter than her engineers designed her to. Cold air vortexes formed on her wings as she continued her conga dance with Doom’s bucket of coal.

The naughty missile started to sputter; it slowed down and drifted off course. It belched a couple puffs of smoke, seconds later it burped once more before plunging towards the Earth. I didn’t have time to celebrate; another one took its place.

My Crusader came around in front of Santa and the boys; a pleasant ringing tone was intermingled with the “Missile Warning,” that echoed in my helmet. It was so intermingled that I didn’t hear it at first, but when he heard it, it was sweet: My bird had locked onto the Eastern European defense site.

A sleeping AGM-88 Harm missile dropped from my weapon’s carousel; it awoke and blazed a fiery smoky path down to the earth. It gave the defense installation the kiss of death; it disappeared into a fiery fireball that could be seen for hundreds of miles in the cold air.

“ALL CLEAR SANTA!” I jubilantly shouted.

“Thank you Ryan,” a relieved Santa smiled, “By the way, you’ve never told me what you wanted for Christmas.”

A Gift Card Christmas Excerpt

This is "Part 2" of 1126 Tomcat Way

It was Christmas Eve’s Eve. I slept nice, but I awoke exhausted. The coughing and the codeine played tag team with me. My stomach growled loudly, “Okay, okay, I get the picture,” I groaned as I staggered out of bed. The phone rang as I walked into the kitchen. Brooke answered it. Her voice jumped several octaves, “HE’S WHAT?”

“Why wasn’t I notified?”

“Why is he being released so soon?!??”

“He demanded it?

“How long ago?”

“He’s waiting for me?” Brooke face palmed as she finished, “Oh…,I’ll be right there.” She put the phone down and took a deep calming breath. “They released my grandfather-” she stopped and shook her, “No. He released himself.”

I took a sip of Gatorade as she looked at me sternly, “No computer luv. I want you off of it. You’re supposed to be getting your rest. I’m serious luv. I’m going to call Ernie before I leave to go to the hospital and ask have him watch you while I’m away.” She paused for dramatic effect and finished, “I’ll have him put Susie Snowflake on the repeat cycle if you do.”

Pure unadulterated horror gripped my donut pumping heart. I had heard that song countless of times when I worked at a toy during my senior year of high school; worse, they played it on continuous rotation. That song would induce the most nauseating Yule Tide feeling. “You wouldn’t…”

“Susie Snowflake, Santa Baby, Paul McCartney’s rubbish song, The Italian Donkey, Sinatra’s J-I-N-G-L-E Bells, Christmas Shoes, Natalie Cole butchering her daddy’s Christmas song, Rod Stewart and Dolly Parton nauseating version of Baby it’s Cold, and lastly Bonnie Raitt’s Christmas ‘song’ all in nonstop rotation if you should go onto the computer.” “With such a generous offer, how can I refuse?”

My victorious wife haughtily smiled. Total silence ensued until I weakly attempted to change the subject in a sly way, “Don’t forget to pick up the turkey.”

She narrowed her eyes and pointed her slender index finger at me, “You’re changing the subject luv, it’s not going to work…, Ernie!”

“Reporting for duty Mrs. Wolf!” the elite elf appeared magically in an explosion of everything good about Christmas, including fruitcake. He snapped a rigid salute. This time the elf was dressed in typical North Pole attire, “Lieutenant Commander Wolf is under my watch!”

“Make sure he doesn’t log onto the computer or else…”

“Or else…” Ernie begrudgingly echoed as he held up a CD holding my worst Christmas nightmare. I could see the pain in his eyes as he continued, “Please Ryan…, don’t make me play this…, please. It’s bad enough to hear Arnie singing ‘We are Santa’s elves’ off key.”

My poor ears wouldn’t be able to withstand the earsplitting onslaught of that abominable collection of songs without triggering a Trigeminal Attack. I picked up a white hanky and waved it. “Good boy,” Brooke stated and left to pick up the Old Man. Multiple candy cane explosions happened, speakers and an ipod appeared. Ernie clicked a button and the Christmas list I made for my yearly flights with Santa played. I reclined in my chair and smiled.

We chatted about our little adventures we’ve had. I grabbed a digital photo album and turned it on; I showed the curious elf various photos taken from my multiple misadventures. Nothing happened until I brought up the photo from my first mission with Brooke.

Ernie’s little red hat with fluffy white trim suddenly stood straight up as he gazed at the photo. The fluffy snowball at the tip of his hat jingled out a melodious Christmas tune. “That’s Mrs. Wolf!?!”

“Yes, our first assignment together.”

“Oh wow, Ryan. She reminds me of this cute little commando elf,” Ernie’s professionalism began to slip as he started to stammer…, funny how love does that. “She’s, she’s, she was the blonde at the. I mean. Uh, yeah, she was.” The flustered elf stopped and shook his head. He took a deep calming breath, “She was the only blonde elf at the Pave Low.”

“I saw her. What’s her name?” I asked.

“Myrrh,” he replied, “It’s a nice Christmas name.”

“Yes, it is,” I said and then told a white lie that I hoped Santa would forgive me for. “She was looking at you too.”

“She was!” the blushing elf exclaimed and fumbled for words again. “Um, what do I do? I-I-I-I-I’ve never ever dated before.”

“It took me a while to learn this, but be you. Be genuine. Start off slow you know, like a cup of hot cocoa after work. The next time include cookies with that hot cocoa, make sure they’re chocolate or some sort of chocolate icing or stripes. It has to be chocolate.” Ernie shook his head and quickly scribbled notes as I continued, “Chocolate is one of the main weaknesses of women, that and roses too. If that all works, then try dinner and a movie and take it from there.”

During our conversation of the fairer sex, I put my head back on the recliner and promptly fell fast asleep. I didn’t awake until there arose such a clatter!

Happy Hallowthanksmas!

This is an excerpt from The Great Rutabaga Insurrection. Very rough, first draft.

***

Being appalled turned into rage as he saw the Thanksgiving Day decorations setting next to the Halloween decorations. There were a few inflatable Tom the Turkeys, stuffed pilgrims, autumn themed oven mittens, and fancy multicolored leaves, but nothing to justify the slashing of the Halloween decorations. PK turned on the lights to get a better look.

“Nutmeg,” he flatly said as he saw nothing but a Christmas Wonderland inside the warehouse. He started to shake and shiver like that Elvis chap back in Lost Wages, Nevada. This was blasphemy in its highest form, Halloween was still days away and the store was loaded with festive decorations of a holiday that was still two months away!

He finally collected himself, “Bah humbug!” he snarled. “Where is he?!?” the pumpkin stormed around the decorations as thick smoke now billowed from his lid. “Where are you fat man? I’ve had it with you!” He stopped in front of a reindeer; it magically came to life, “Where is he?” The reindeer pointed its shiny scarlet nose to its right. The deer went back to being a decoration as the irritated pumpkin marched away.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! There you are Nick, thought you could easily hide from me, didn’t you?” PK thundered as he stormed over to a life size replica of Santa Claus. PK snapped his fingers, brilliant red, green, and white lights danced around the image of Father Christmas as Jingle Bells could be heard. There as a festive poof of everything good about Christmas and Santa was standing in front of the irate pumpkin.

“PK, what’s the big idea. My elves and I were in the middle of packing for Reykjavik, Iceland; then it’s Albuquerque, New Mexico. Time is short, then I have to pack for Fletcher, North Carolina and then Opa-Locka, Florida,” the exacerbated man said.

“What’s the big idea?!?” PK bellowed. He motioned to the stuff around him, “Take a look, it’s not even Halloween yet! You’re encroaching on my holiday! Do I ever encroach on yours? NO! In fact, pumpkincide continues during Christmas with people drinking coffee and passing out those abominable pies!”

“But PK…,” Santa said.

“Not buts Nick and not to think I’m not appreciative of the Yoko Ono’s Greatest Hits collection on CD last Christmas, because I use it to scare those meddling kids and their dog, but this has got to stop!” PK looked over in the direction towards one of the Tom the Turkey inflatable dolls and snapped his fingers. The gobbler came to life, the turkey talked incoherently fast as it sped over to the indigent pumpkin. He pointed at the fowl with his thumb, “We want to have a word with you.”

The turkey glared at Santa and then nodded in agreement as it gobbled away, “Gobble! Gobble! Gobble!”

PK went on one of his trademarked long winded hot air speeches. “You are a usurper. U, s, u, r, p, e, r; usurper Nick. You should be ashamed of yourself! Didn’t your mother teach you manners Nick?” he asked as he stuck his scrawny index finger in the fat man’s jelly belly. “Oh wait, that’s right, you raised by elves. Instead they taught you how to overeat and binge on milk and sugar cookies!”

Santa innocently opened his arms and tried to talk to the angry pumpkin and turkey, “But PK, Tom…” PK pulled his finger back and shamelessly wagged it at the defensive man, “This is the thanks I get for setting you up with Jessica! She was the hottest girl in town, a redhead no less! All the boys wanted to date her and now look at her! She’s as big as the B.F. Good Wrench blimp! Have you no shame! How could you do this?!?!?”

“But PK…”

“Enough!” PK shouted as Tom once again gobbled something incoherent. “I have had enough of you encroaching upon my holiday! It’s October 27th! Christmas is still fifty nine days away! I can’t even have an evening out on the town with the Russian Widow, Ruby, or Charlotte Knight without hearing Christmas music in October! Sacrilege my boy and blasphemous as well! I shall not stand for this anylonger!”

“But PK…,” poor Santa tried to interject but the pumpkin was on a roll.

“Tell him Tom!”

The snarling gobbler took a deep breath, his beak widened as he exhaled. Santa blinked as Tom spoke faster than the IXS Enterprise on that Star Wreck TV show. PK’s mouth slowly opened as he couldn’t even understand the mad turkey, but he nodded his head and went with it. The crazed bird finished and put his wings on his side.

“Anything to say for yourself, Nick…,” PK gnarled.

The wise man slowly spoke in a nonthreatening tone, “PK, Tom, I’m just as appalled as you two are about the commercialization of Christmas. Remember that I’m just a symbol of Christmas, a secular symbol.

Santa pointed over to a nativity, “That’s the reason PK.” The Bethlehem Star on top of the barn brightly shined as the barn yard animals were lowing. There was a flash of light and two angels appeared next to the barn. They wore dazzling white robes. The angels smiled as they looked at the pumpkin. In a blink of an eye they were gone, the animals returned to their inanimate state, and the star turned itself off.

Saint Nick turned his attention back to the pumpkin and turkey, “I’m not the real reason, just like Tom isn’t the real reason for Thanksgiving. I’m not the real reason for the season. I don’t make my first official appearance until after the annual JC Brady Have a Happy Thanksgiving Day Parade.”

“Uh…” the dumbstruck pumpkin uttered.

NaNoWriMo 2015

This is an except from The Great Rutabaga Insurrection, my NaNoWriMo project. This is the first draft, very rough.

***

Inside an armored hangar of Gotham NAS sat a sleeping F/A-39 Crusader II. Old Glory was proudly displayed behind her as the hypersonic bird rested. Her pilot, Lieutenant Commander Ryan Wolf, had his hand on her fuselage as he admired the new nose art that read, “Brooklyn.” It was in honor of his bodacious wife, Brooke. Her middle name is Lynn, thus her nickname was Brooklyn.

“A penny for your thoughts lieutenant,” CAG said, snapping Wolf from his musing.

“It feels wonderful to be back,” the smiling pilot replied.

“We’re grateful to have you back,” the Vietnam era pilot stated.

“This time of the year I would be getting geared up to escort Santa Claus.”

“Miss it?”

“Yes and no. It was fun, Santa’s sleigh could bend the space-time continuum to make the flight only last a few hours. However, to the body it was a near day, sometimes I was dragging my leg behind me as I limped to my front door.”

“Yes and you probably had someone waiting on you to massage it, didn’t you lieutenant?” CAG smirked.

“Ruby a couple of years, Jessica one year…,”

“Forget I asked lieutenant,” Quinn said as he waved his hands. The phone rang, “Hold that thought.” He answered it, “Commander Quinn speaking.”

He patiently listened and the replied, “What’s that ensign? Pike, slow down, I can barely understand you.” He listened and flashed a funny look “What do you mean we’re missing a tank? What’s going on ensign?!?!” he asked. Seconds later he spoke again, “You’re on I-995.” What? Call the main gate.” CAG put the phone down and looked at Ryan, “Your pumpkin frenemy stole a M60A3 MBT (Main Battle Tank) its heading west on Interstate 995. Intercept and engage if need be.”

Bittersweet for Ryan, he was ecstatic to get back into the air, but PK was driving a tank. He was legendary for his shenanigans, but this one topped them all. He dressed and scrambled up his birds ladder. He sat down in the cockpit and strapped himself in as the hangar doors opened. He put his helmet on and awakened his bird with the push of a button.

He strapped his oxygen mask on and taxied out to the tarmac. Butterflies filled his stomach as he reached the launching point. “Wolf 1, this is Eagle Control. You are cleared to launch.” His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath and engaged the VTOL (Vertical Takeoff Landing). The butterflies vanished as the Crusader effortlessly lifted off the ground.

It was wonderful to be back in the air. It felt like Pike’s Peak had been lifted off his shoulders, he felt like a kid in a candy store; even if that stupid pumpkin had stolen the nearly mothballed tank.

PK’s large head was sticking out the top as he drove the USMC (United States Marine Corps) tank. He had somehow placed a helmet atop his rotund orange head. He didn’t bother to snap it on; the chin strap was flapping in the wind as the tank lumbered down the interstate. Accidents were transpiring but that didn’t concern the king of the pumpkins. He had to get this tank to the pumpkin patch and stopped those nasty armored rutabagas turned the entire continent into a rutabaga field!

The Crusader shrieked overhead, PK lifted up his head and smiled, “Welcome back my boy!”

“Foxtrot, PK. What the hell is going on?” Wolf demanded.

“Whoa! You kiss Brooke with that mouth? I’m going to call your mother and tell her you forgot all about those manners she taught you. Perhaps she’ll drive up and wash your mouth out with soap so the next time you kiss Brooke your mouth will be clean!”

Wolf snapped, “I’ve been authorized to stop…”

“Stand down lieutenant! We have a national security issue here,” Colonel Rogers’s voice popped in on the radio. “PK was given permission to take the tank, but the Pentagon failed to notify Gotham NAS. You are ordered to assist him.”

“Join me Ryan, together we can rule New Jersey as Pumpkin and Wolf!”

“PK, would you stop playing Star Warp! One little mishap and you’re going to take out innocent civilians!”

“I’m hardly playing my boy. Lord Magenta Khan is about to detonate the Genesis Apparatus! North America will be turned into a rutabaga patch,” the pumpkin said as he put goggles over his fiery triangular eyes.

“Now he’s playing Star Wreck,” Wolf groaned.

Trigeminal Neuralgia Awareness Day!

RIP: Shakespeare 2000-2015

My TN buddy succumbed on July 7. I will be writing a few short stories based on this amazing empathic kitty.

Update on Shakespeare

The cancer has returned. Shakespeare weighed 13 pounds in November, he now weighs 9 pounds. Most of the weight loss has occurred in the past month. He is a trooper, he's fighting this, but I know it'll ultimately claim my TN buddy in a few weeks.

Go Away Anna

99% of us TN suffers don't enjoy the winter. We loved the fact that Elsa is going away for six months here in the northern hemisphere. Less pain right?

Wrong, not here in Florida. Elsa's so called innocent sister is messing with me. It seems there's a storm trying to form off Florida, if it does, it'll be named Anna. I left work early, the pain in my scalp is bad. I can't take a thing for it, so it's smile and bear it, or go to bed.

So, go away Anna...go away. FAST!

Another Step

Another step has been taking on completing another 2015 goal. I gave seven to eight short stories to a local published author. Now I wait for his input and the illustrator that worked on his books. I'll keep you informed.

Happy Easter!

Elsa Arrested!

Good! Lock her up for six months! I've had enough of Winter, it's been brutal...even for those living in Florida!

Thanks to Ron Blair for this hilarious photo.

Update!

Editing is such a pain in the afterburners...but, things are looking up! During therapy I've regained an inch that I lost. I still have an inch to reclaim. Woo!

Lastly, I will be meeting with a local published author. He wants to help me get published, very busy editing my short stories as of late, it's a pain, but it's going to be worth it!

2015 Goal Update

Last month I finally entered the 21st century, I upgraded my medieval phone for a smart one. An LG 7 tablet came with it for an additional 99 cents! Thus, I neutralized two goals with one missile. Now onto categorizing my stories and editing the Trigeminal Neuralgia ones first.

Black Point Drive-Merritt Island NWR

Alpha Lipoic Acid

I know what works for some, won't work for others; we share the same pain, but our bodies are totally different in makeup. I'm trying a new supplement to see if it works, Alpha Lipoic Acid. It's supposed to be excellent for nerve pain.

I've had good days and bad days, today is somewhere in the middle. I was told by the nutritionist that I should take it with a B-1 vitamin. You can take 600 mg of the acid, I'm only taking 500 right now. I will graduate to 600 after this bottle is through and start taking the B-1 vitamin. Though I'm concerned that my body will adjust, like it always seems to do, and the pain will come roaring back in a few months.

I'll keep you informed.