NaNoWrimo Update!

Chapter 1 is done! 3,579 words!

It's 2006, the United States Navy has retired the F-14 Tomcat. Lieutenant Ryan T. Wolf is almost finished transitioning from the Tomcat to the classified hypersonic F/A-39 Crusader when the family curse strikes him. Wolf recovers and is transferred to Gotham Naval Air Station, New Jersey. He quickly finds a gall bladder attack and heart ache are nothing compared to a new pain that has arisen on the left side of his face.

A Wolf in Gotham

The insanity that is NaNoWriMo is nearly upon us. In a just over a week I will start for the third time. I’m nervously excited about it. I won last year, but the previous year I started on November 14; I lost. However, I consider it a win since I wrote 25,000 words. At that time it was the most I’ve written in years.

I’m a plotter and a panster. I can knock out a short story with little effort, but not for a larger type story, the plotter comes out. I missed a few days last year with TN pain caused by cold fronts; need the plot so I can feverishly type away with my nimble fingers while I can.

I originally started writing A Wolf in Gotham project back in 2007 and 2008. It never really flowed until I changed one of the female characters. I thought it was a decent first attempt, but rereading it… I wondered why it didn’t stand out from my other stories. The more I read it the more, I hated it. But it was a good launching point for my main character, Lieutenant Ryan Wolf, F-14 pilot upgraded to a classified hypersonic stealth fighter.

I gutted most of the story and throwing in my Trigeminal Neuralgia. I wrote lots of short stories with Ryan battling headaches, undiagnosed TN pain. My plan is to raise awareness of this rare excruciating condition. I plan on two follow up books, Teal Beast Rising (April 2017) and The Teal Warrior (NaNoWriMo 2017)

Teal Beast Rising will feature my short stories of 2009-2012, before I was officially diagnosed with TN. It will show how long it takes for most of us TN suffers to get diagnosed with our condition. It will end with my short story ‘Going Down’

Teal Warrior will be based on 2012-present day short stories and my experiences with prescription pain killers and battling TN with natural supplements, eating anti-inflammatory foods, and chiropractic care.

Maybe one day I’ll turn the background for A Wolf in Gotham teal. Write on!

Occipital Neuralgia

Over the last six weeks I have awoken to pain in my scalp. It's not a bad pain, more annoying, but it's progressively getting worse over this period of time. I have started neck therapy again, but it'll take a few more visits before it'll start helping with the pain.

It's making me think if I do have Occipital Neuralgia on top of Trigeminal Neuralgia. I can eat my usual foods and it helps with the pain, but not like it normally does. Pain stays in my scalp until early in the afternoon, it becomes a headache where I can take something for it. Occasionally I get the TN stabbing pains in the eye and ear as well as the ache in my jaw, cheek, and neck.

It's killed my writing muse, but I'm determined to write 'A Wolf in Gotham' for NaNoWriMo and complete a novel about a person suffering from Trigeminal Neuralgia.

2016 NaNoWriMo Project

It's 2006, the United States Navy has retired the F-14 Tomcat. Lieutenant Ryan T. Wolf is almost finished transitioning from the Tomcat to the classified hypersonic F/A-39 Crusader when the family curse strikes him. Wolf recovers and is transferred to Gotham Naval Air Station, New Jersey. He quickly finds a gall bladder attack is nothing compared to a new pain that has arisen on the left side of his face.

Characters: Lieutenant Ryan Wolf, Major Carol Angers (USAF), Colonel America, Wonder Star (Agent King), Power Star, Commander Quinn (USN), Admiral Doolittle (USN), Ensign Pike (USN), Red Hawk, Lady Cobalt, Tara and Red Wolf.

Citrus

Citrus has learned well from Shakespeare, it's been over a year since his passing and it appears that she has become my new TN buddy. The last three times I had to take a nap because of the unrelenting Trigeminal Attack Citrus followed me into the bedroom and jumped on the bed. She stayed with me until I got out of bed. Yes, Shakespeare taught her well.

Nitrates

I thought I was getting a firmer grasp on my TN pain, however, the last two weeks I have regressed. I have awoken to pain in my scalp, my main weakness; I can't fake a smile like I do lots of times or be productive, everyone knows I'm in pain. I can do nothing until the pain decides its done enough damage and radiates from my crown. Nothing will touch it, including cannabis.

I can eat broccoli, pineapple, or tart cherries and within minutes, if not seconds, the TN pain radiates to my temple, eye, or ear. But not this time, nothing worked. Walking did work, but to a point; pain would always rush back to the scalp. I tried applying peppermint oil to my scalp, but my mutinous body adjusted a few days later. I tried Bengay, my body rebelled after one application.

Late in the afternoon the ornery pain would finally come down to where I can take an over-the-counter pill to dull or briefly extinguish the pain so I could sleep, but would awake to pain once again in the scalp.

My wife reminded me of the sandwiches we had been eating a lunch and a light bulb went on, nitrates; a migraine trigger for me. Yuck. We stopped eating sandwiches and the pain is decreasing in intensity, but I'm still awakening to pain in the scalp. Hopefully the pain will subside in a few days.

Ryan's Mighty New Year Snippet

I started writing this story for 2014 NaNoWriMo, it's mess. However, it's got a major Trigeminal Neuralgia subplot. I will NOT abandon this story. It's not family friendly either, so here a snippet of it.

***

I awoke to a knock at the door. I rolled over onto my side and gazed at the clock, it was 0600 and I was pain free. I was very grateful for that, usually I would awake to some sort of trigeminal pain on the left side of my face. Another knock sounded, “I’m coming,” I said as I walked over to the door and opened it.

My jaw hit the floor the moment I saw who it was. Mighty Meagan was standing in front of me wearing a little black dress. It was little alright, it hugged every curve the good Lord gave her. It covered her bubbly backside and stopped about an inch down. I momentarily lost my ability to talk as I gazed upon the shapely heroic blonde. I was too mesmerized to see her beige boots.

“Really, lieutenant,” Meagan playfully smiled. She placed her index finger under my jaw and put it back in place.” She walked in and closed the door as I continued to gawk at her sexy appearance. She placed her hands on her hips and shifted her weight to one hip. “Honestly, lieutenant, you’ve been hanging around the League for how long now? We wear LESS at HQ!”

“I know, I know,” I replied, “But they’re not Mighty Meagan, especially after what just transpired…”

“Thank you, that was sweet” she said and put her hands on my cheeks. She removed one, pointed at her eye, and told me something that I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve heard from sexy heroines, “Remember my eyes are up here.”

‘Aye, aye!”

***

Ever the officer and gentleman I held the car door open for Meagan. The statuesque blonde smiled, “Thank you Ryan,” and sat down in the passenger seat. I caught myself looking in the wrong place; I stopped ogling her longs legs and made a concerted effort to look at her pretty face. I shut the door after she strapped her superhuman body in.

The Texas sky was turning grey, an ominous sign for those of you reading in Port St. Sushi, Florida. I could feel that blasted nerve stirring as the sky darkened. I sat down in the front seat and buckled myself in; trying not to stare at the gratuitous amounts of leg that Melinda was showing. I looked in her eyes, “I love your dress.”

“You’ve said that four times already,” the woman answered.

“I’m going to tell you a fifth time that I love it,” I said as I awoke my Crossfire from its sleep. It roared as I awakened it. I put the car in reverse and twisted my body to see as I backed the car away from the now vacant hotel. I turned back around and knew that this was going to be a very difficult trip, besides her long legs calling out to me; her arousing perfume permeated my adenoids.

‘Amarillo by Morning’ is a popular country song, it’s one of those rare songs that never make it to Number 1 and then later the song dwarfs all other ones in the annuals of time. We were headed for Amarillo when the weather changed in an instant. The skies turned charcoal grey and the temperature plummeted, snow fell; little did we know that we wouldn’t make it to Amarillo by morning.

My left eye started to ache as though someone was plunging a butcher knife in it. I pulled the car over onto the side of the whitening road and put my prized Crossfire in park. “Excuse me,” I said as I reached over the top of Melinda’s smooth toned thighs and opened the glove compartment. (On a side note, those sexy legs of hers didn’t help as they spiked my blood pressure) I took out a plain looking plastic bottle and closed the compartment. I set aside a red pill and a white pill, the red was an arthritis strength Tylenol and the white was an extra strength aspirin.

“Lieutenant, are you alright?” my worried friend asked.

“I won’t be if I don’t take these,” I replied as I opened the console between us. I pulled out a Coca-Cola and took the two pills. It was a poor man’s version of Excedrin, but it works just as well; plus the Coke taste wonderful.

Her soft hand wrapped around mine and gently squeezed it. It caressed my hard hand as I tried to visualize the pain leaving my aching left eye. “I’m a walking barometer. I should’ve felt this blasted weather hours ago,” I said as I winced in pain. She released my hand. Her soft fingertips massaged my temples, “I’m sorry Ryan. Would you like for me to drive?”

I closed my eyes; her velvet fingers relieved some of the pain. I took a deep breath, “Please.”

She opened her door as I reached behind me and grabbed my ski cap. I put it on and opened my door. I met her behind the car. Her full cherry red lips gently kissed my eyebrow, my eyes instinctively closed. The pain retreated into my ear canal. That was fine with me; I could tolerate the pain better.

“Thank you,” I weakly stated and walked over to the passenger side. We finished playing our musical chairs; Meagan put the car in drive and drove back on the deserted snowy highway. I reclined my seat and closed my eyes. I lost track of time as I visualized the pain leaving my aching left ear.

I opened my eyes and looked over at Meagan. She warmly smiled, “Better?”

“Yes, still in pain, but the edge is off,” I replied.

Pantera and TN Update

On March 4, 2016 I was fired from a job I left Miami for in 2003. I could’ve been bitter and negative, but I saw it as an opportunity to concentrate on my stories and get them edited for potential publishing. I edited The Great Rutabaga Insurrection, slashing it from 51,000+ to 43,000+ words and submitted it. April 15 it was accepted, however, I don’t have the money they asked to get it published.

On April 22 I received a tweet from a different publisher asking for an unpublished manuscript for a writing contest. Winning entry wins the amount of money needed to get The Great Rutabaga Insurrection published; the deadline was June 7 with a 40,000 word requirement.

April 23 I started writing the Pantera, The Great Rutabaga Insurrection follow up. I had 46 days to finish it; not the insanity that is NaNoWriMo, write 50,000 words every November, 1,667 daily word count. I finished it on May 31, the day before my birthday; giving myself an early birthday present. I edited it and had it ready by June 5. I went to visit the Twitter account that sent me the tweet and found out that the account had been suspended. I couldn’t enter the contest, my writing dreams took another hit.

Again I could’ve been bitter and angry, but it gave me time to look at the third story of the Pumpkin Trilogy, Zombie Shark. It was the first one written, entertaining, but vastly inferior to the prequels. Now I will look at this story and the others, tinkering with them as I wait.

While all this was going on I noticed my Trigeminal Neuralgia pain was easing. I checked my pill journal that I made and discovered that I hadn’t taken nearly as many pill as I had in the past. In 2007 I was popping OTC pills like candy, six a day. Since May 25, 2016 I skipped eleven days of not taking a thing for my pain; seeing the chiropractor, taking supplements, and eating anti-inflammatory foods help.

Oh, I still have bad days like with Tropical Storms Bonnie and Colin. Working the grave yard shift has me in pain the next day, but it’s better. God’s good. One door closed and other opened, waiting for the next one to be opened and face my next writing challenge.

The Pantera-Jewel

The Pantera will be officially submitted for a writing contest on June 7, here is a 'chapter' from it.

***

PK was dressed up in a nice long sleeved white shirt, he was wore an orange bowtie, of course, and blank pants as he stood behind the table. He was passed out cards to the not so lucky players; the house could buy the Philadelphia mint at the obscene profit they were making on this miserable night.

The pumpkin could see the moon as he finished dealing the cards out. He was safe for the night unless clouds moved in and covered his mystical energy source. Though the pumpkin would quickly forget in a few minutes as a delightful redhead sat down at the table; PK took notice of her as the players looked at their cards.

Two minutes later the house revealed a jack; one man huffed as he handed in his cards while another man sighed, “I’m out.” A blonde motioned for a hit, PK gave her another card. She took it and looked at in disgust, it was a nine. She had 22, missed 21 by one. She angrily tossed her cards into the middle of the table.

PK smiled as his fiery eyes locked onto the redhead, “Perhaps we’ll have a lucky winner on the next deal.” The pumpkin put the cards into a machine; it quickly shuffled the deck. The dapper pumpkin took them and dealt the cards again, looking at the redhead the entire time. Minutes later it was the house that was hemorrhaging chips.

“We have a lucky winner!” PK declared as he collected the cards.

The redhead reaped in her winning chips as the other players cheered, there was finally a winner! She had a king and the Ace of Spades, easily toppling PK’s Queen of Hearts and eight of spades. The players forgot about losing their chips as free champagne was passed around to the lucky table.

“’Tis a pleasure to meet you Ms?”

“Hi, I’m Jewel,” the redhead smiled radiantly.

“But of course you are.”

“No! That’s my name, Jewel Petra,” the redhead said.

“Named after your mother no doubt,” PK retorted. “Well, Miss Jewel, congratulations! Enjoy your stay here at the Pantera.” “I will,” she smiled and slid PK a few chips for his tip.

“Thank you,” he smiled and pocketed them in his top pocket. “Ciao,” he winked as he was relieved by another member of the Pantera staff.

The pumpkin did his security rounds and then went to the Pancake House inside one of the many food courts of the Pantera. The girl behind the counter smiled, “Hello PK, the usual?”

“Yes, Wendi!” he smiled, “Triple decker blueberry pancakes with blueberry syrup and a blueberry shake to down them with.” He playfully shook his finger at the lass, “Now don’t forget blueberries are good for you! They’re a superfood. High in Vitamin K and C, Manganese, antioxidants as well as helping the body fight nasty painful inflammation.”

PK took his seat as he awaited his delicious repast. ‘Twas a splendid night, the house made a killing on black jack. The moon was shining through the large glass panels; it was good to be the king. Wendi brought out his order, “Here you go PK, your triple decker blueberry pancakes with blueberry syrup and your blue berry shake.”

She put the order down in front the hungry pumpkin. The mountain of blueberry pancakes was dripping with that delicious blueberry syrup and topped with whip cream; truly a pumpkin’s delight! “Thank you…, my dear,” he said and pulled out one of the chips that Jewel had given him. “Keep the change.”

Her eyes widen, “Why thank you!”

“No,” the pumpkin quickly corrected, “Thank you for being kind to pumpkins.”

“Ciao,” she joked and walked away.

The hungry pumpkin was enjoying his blueberry meal when Jewel sat down in front of him. The pumpkin smiled as he put down his utensils, “I would offer you a triple decker blueberry pancakes with blueberry syrup and blueberry smoothie, but that’s not why you’re here, is it.”

Jewel nodded her crimson head.

“You’re magical. I can feel it.”

“Yes, I will take you up on your generous offer. It keeps the humans off guard,” she answered.

PK turned and raised his hand, “Oh Wendi!”

“One triple decker blueberry pancakes with blueberry syrup and a blueberry smoothie on your bill coming right up!” Wendi smiled. “Thank you,” he smiled and turned back to Jewel, his smile left, “They persecute you like they do me and my pumplings?” “At times,” Jewel shortly answered.

Ruby and Power Star walked by, interrupting the conversation. She warmly smiled and waved at him with her fingers. Linda flashed a little smile and picked up her hand. PK warmly smiled as well, waving his viny hand. He sighed as he watched his witchy lead the power blonde down the hall.

“The witch, she belongs to you?” the redhead asked.

“Indeed.”

“You’re a lucky pumpkin.”

“I prefer blessed… my dear, but yes.”

Jewel paused for a moment before speaking, “I must warn you, should she become too powerful. I’ll be the one.” PK leaned back as his fiery triangular eyes turned to oval. The Witch-Naught, she was the Witch-Naught! The Malevolent Queen herself dispatches the Witch-Naught whenever a witch gets too powerful or arrogant. Ruby’s sister was recently turned into a vampire due to her haughtiness and disregard for the rules of magic. He gasped, “You’re the Witch-Naught!”

“Yes, but Ruby isn’t her sister. Fear not, I don’t foresee any problems my dear PK.”

The pumpkin breathed a sigh of relief, “That she is, she’s the most splendid woman I know.”

Wendi brought over the extra order and set it down in front of his redheaded guest, “You’re racking up quite a bill, PK.”

“I’ll pay it in a few days, pay day you know,” PK replied as he slid her tip.

“Thanks PK, I can fill my car up with gas tonight!” she smiled and went back to her station.

“Would you like a tour of the pumpkin patch… my dear?” the pumpkin asked the Witch-Naught.

“I’d be delighted,” Jewel answered.

***

Minutes later they were downstairs in the secret pumpkin patch. PK led the fiery woman around, his chest swelling with pride as he showed off his little ones, “There’s Bill, George, Ralph, Stephen,” PK stopped, winced and face palmed, “I did it again.” The embarrassed pumpkin shook his hollow head, “I’m sorry Stephan. I keep forgetting.” PK picked up his head and pointed back at his pumplings, “Kenny my boy, Phil, Fred, Merv…”

PK stopped and listened to his pumpling. “This is Jewel. She’s not from around here.”

Meanwhile in the other pumpkin patch, Fishy and Shakespeare were having fun chasing vermin out of the patch; keeping PK’s pumplings fresh and clean like he liked. Fishy hopped onto a post and Shakespeare sat down next to it as they watched for more vermin.

Shaky’s eyes suddenly widened as he saw two figures near. He scampered away into the safety of a nearby bush. “Confound it Shakespeare! It’s just me! I have a visitor. Her name is Jewel, she won’t hurt you. She’s splendid… simply splendid!”

“Uh uh!” Fishy cawed.

Jewel snickered as PK exclaimed, “It’s dinner time Shaky, I got some yummy yummy in the tummy stuff!”

“Uh uh!”

PK sighed, “I’ll pour him a bowl.” He looked at his faithful feathery lieutenant as he pointed a stern scrawny finger at him, “This is his dinner.”

“Uh uh!”

Jewel was amused, she smiled as PK relented, “Okay, I’ll pour two.” He poured two bowls of hairball control dry cat food, one for the MIA (Missing in Action) chub chub and Fishy. PK put the bag away and turned to Fishy, “Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata, please.”

“Uh uh!” he cawed and put a CD into the CD player. He pulled out his conductor wand and waited for the signal. The pumpkin’s crimson haired guest was taken aback, “Isn’t this considered cheating on Ruby?”

“No, unless it’s the Blue Danube and this is a leap year,” he answered.

“Power Star…”

The regal pumpkin nodded. Fishy nodded too and waved his wand, Beethoven’s soft music played in the night. They began to dance as the pumpkin confessed, “Yes, I asked Ms. Sinclair if she could arrange the match between Ruby and her,” he confessed to the Witch-Naught. “I wanted to see if she was Queen material, now Ruby and her are inseparable!”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No, not yet,” he replied as he lifted his arm and expertly twirled his dancing partner.

“Then why are you worried, it sounds like Ruby is preparing Power Star to be your next Queen until she regains her position.” “Quite right… my dear. Quite right, why am I worrying?”

“It’s not like the Witch-Naught is after you,” she joked.

“Ha ha, good one, my dear. Good one!” the pumpkin laughed and relaxed. They continued to dance under the retreating moon. “The moon’s going down,” PK said. His phone rang, he sighed. He pulled out his phone, it was a local number. “Give me a moment.” Jewel nodded. “PK.”

It was deja vu all over again for the pumpkin as nasally high pitch voice spoke, “Hello, this is Susie. This is in reference to a complaint filed by our client. You still haven’t turned over the proper paper work. You have 24 hours to call back this number with the proper paper…”

“How did you get his number? This phone is on the No Call List. Don’t call back! If you weren’t a lady I use stronger language! I blocked your other numbers and I’m going to block this one!” the agitated Pumpkin replied and tapped the ‘end’ button. “Boulder dash!” he exclaimed and blocked the new number. “I detest these phones,” he grumbled and put the phone away. His ginger haired guest put her calming hand on his shoulder, “You use much restraint.”

But before PK could reply he heard a rooster crow, “Oh dear.”

“What?” the Jewel asked as she looked at the worried pumpkin.

Invasive tendrils of sunlight slipped over the horizon, reaching out and striking the pumpkin’s head. He disappeared in a puff of grey smoke. PK’s head was spinning as it slowly floated down to the ground. It nestled besides an elm tree as Fishy gorged himself on dry cat food.

Jewel looked down at the empty Jack-O-Lantern, “Goodnight PK. You are such the gentleman. May we meet again, your majesty.”

Excerpt of The Great Rutabaga Insurrection

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…,”

“Whoa! Forget I asked lieutenant. Too much information, save it for the paparazzi,” 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. Wolf 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 stop those nasty armored rutabagas from turning 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.

“Ryan, we have to stop them! We can’t have rutabagas ruling North America! When knaves think their nobility, well, it’s time to take action!”

Several seconds of radio silence took place before Ryan asked, “Who’s Lord Magenta Khan?”

“He’s the leader of the rutabagas! They’re in cahoots with the old bucket of rusty bolts, Mega-Troff!”

“WHAT?!?!”

“That’s right lieutenant. Mega-Troff’s been playing with us. He’s been testing us with the hit and run tactics,” America’s favorite son said.

“That’s why the industrial sized bags of Rid a Rutabaga didn’t work. They’re armored now!” PK added as he took the exit ramp. Cars scampered out of his way as he barreled through the intersection. “Excuse me, make room for the pumpkin. We got a national security issue to deal with!” he exclaimed as he looked at the dumbfounded onlookers.

PK lost his attention and steered the tank towards parked cars. The sound of crunching metal filled the air. “Oops…,” the embarrassed tank commander uttered and steered the tank back on course to the pumpkin patch. “Sorry, just contact the Pentagon; they’ll have the few hard working US tax payers pay for the damages. Ciao!”

Ryan watched the carnage from above, he face palmed, “PK…”

“Sorry my boy, but this tank wasn’t designed for a pumpkin to drive,” PK said as the Marine tank thundered past Cobalt’s Corner. The deadly blue haired ninja, Miss Cobalt joined dozens of half drunken patrons were outside cheering and clapping him on. She held up and waved a sign that read, “Do it for us PK!” He gave them a thumb’s up and continued on his quest of saving North America from becoming a rutabaga patch.

The incident was being broadcast live all over America courtesy of Flynn Beck’s Ablaze Network. “As you can see there’s a tank from Gotham NAS barreling down a side street,” he paused momentarily as he put his head back, “Is that PK?”

“Affirmative!” Pat, Flynn’s producer answered.

“What’s he doing with a Marine Corps tank and why are the Marines still using a M60 tank?”

“He’s going to fight the Martians in his pumpkin patch according to Alex Stone,” Skinny Stu said as he ran into the studio and sat down next to Flynn. “According to the sources from the Pentagon, it’s a reserve tank, used only in training exercises.”

“Martians? Really, Martians? NASA’s Martian Rovers proved that there’s no little green men wandering on the planet,” Beck replied and continued, “In an unprecedented move, the Defense Department is allowing us to follow the audio, albeit a seven second delay because Lieutenant Commander Wolf is cursing like a sailor right now.”

“And we don’t want to get fined by the FCC, or excommunicated by the LDS (Latter Day Saints) Church, or get protested for being a ‘fake’ Christian by the Westboro Baptist Cult.”

They watched as PK’s adoring fans staggered from Cobalt’s Corner to the edge of the pumpkin patch. Beck shook his head, “What a shame. I’ve been there, blitzed out of my mind trying to run away from the pain that I created. I was a mess, I feel terrible for these people. Yes, I do, there not going to remember a single thing from this epic incident!”

The Great Rutabaga Insurrection Cast of Characters!

I've finally started the editing process of the Great Rutabaga Insurrection! Here are the cast of characters for the story, not listed in any particular order.

PK, the mischievous tyrannical pumpkin and wannabe leader of the world. He’s a sucker for shapely redheads; it’s all Rita Hayworth’s fault. One look at her in 1942 and his head exploded.

Fishy, PK’s trusted lieutenant. The fish crow is loyal to a point, but he doesn’t subscribe to PK’s tyrannical ways. He loves Ruby and Taylor Swift.

Colonel America, a 99 pound soaking wet weakling who was rejected by the US Army in 1942. He was accepted for a top secret project and transformed into America’s Favorite Son. He led the fight against the Nazi war machine. He mysteriously disappeared in May of 1945, only to reappear just as mysteriously in May of 2005.

The Wondrous Amazon, immortal princess of the ‘peace loving’ Amazons that reside inside the Bermuda Triangle; she fought alongside of Colonel America during World War II. She looked for him, but never found him until May of 2005.

Lieutenant Commander Ryan T. Wolf, hotshot naval ace and superheroine sidekick extraordinaire, fine pumpkin aficionado. He has 17 kills to his credit, his first coming over the Adriatic Sea in 1999.

Tara le Fay, she’s the spooky one, not my words, but the words of Flynn Beck. Tara claims to be from another galaxy. A fact that Lieutenant Commander Ryan Wolf confirms, he intercepted her plunging space craft high above the Sierra-Nevada Mountain range. She’s also Ruby’s bestie.

Flynn Beck, reporter turned conspiracy theorist. He quit his job at the Vox News Network to form his own, the Blade Network. He is now one of the leading internet reporters around.

Brooke Wolf, wife of LTC Ryan Wolf. She is the granddaughter of Admiral Doolittle, she’s a trained superheroine. Commander Terry Quinn, CAG (Charge, Air Guard), a holdover from the Vietnam War; Quinn saw limited duty in 1972 before returning to the states.

Amazin’ Amy is Miami’s favorite daughter. The redhead wasn’t born in Miami, but the city claims her nonetheless.

Ruby, she’s Tara’s bestie. The beautiful witch hails from Massachusetts; it’s her job to maintain the balance of power between man’s world and the magical one.

Alex Stone, the kookiest conspiracy theorist around. He hates Flynn Beck, claims he’s part of the New World Order. Stone also has his own radio, Penitentiary Planet.

Admiral Doolittle, the Old Man as he is affectionately called at Gotham Naval Air station. He’s the grandfather of Brooke Wolf. He constantly badgers Ryan and Brooke when they’re going to give him his first great granddaughter.

The Chartreuse Avenger, Charlotte Knight, is a founding member of the Drama City Defenders. She lost her arm during a battle with her former protégé, Darth Ned. She blames her failure on LTC Wolf and Brooke as well.

The Russian Widow (Red Widow) a drop dead gorgeous trained KGB assassin, she too was involved in World War II. She was involved in a similar project as Colonel America, her aging came to a crawl thanks to the project.

Lady Cobalt, a blue haired ninja, is the owner of Cobalt’s Corner. She’s a living breathing magical spell that tragically suffers from ADHD.

Lady Snow, Lady Cobalt’s protégé, is infamous for her shy nature, but don’t let it fool you. Tick her off and she’s worse than her master. You have been warned.

Star Spangled Avenger, stronger than the Wondrous Amazon, but lacks the training.

Super Dan, don’t ask. Just don’t ask.

Pigeon Man, reread Super Dan’s entry.

Trigeminal Neuralgia: The Pain Awakens

Brooke and I purposely waited weeks to see The Force Awakens, letting the ravenous crowds to die down. I wasn’t about to walk out of the movie theatre like a walking zombie like I did after Transformers 3. I hatched a plan that was similar to what I attempted with Iron Man 3 and Star Trek into Darkness.

I took a migraine pill and wore earplugs, even wore sunglasses. Theoretically the plan was good, but it was a near failure. I jumped every time there was an explosion or obnoxious boom. I was nauseous towards the end of the movie, I survived, but barely. Thank God we ate right afterwards, it soothed my simmering trigeminal nerve.

Learning from my near epic failure, I tweaked things. I took an Excedrin Migraine pill two hours before the movie started. I took a second after we walked into the movie theatre lobby. I put ear plugs into my tender ears after I took my seat. I put a pair of sunglasses on to get me safely past the overstimulating previews.

I survived Star Wars, I did jump once, but so did everyone else in attendance. I liked it, it wasn’t perfect. I don’t understand why or how the generals were so young or other stuff that transpired. However, the movie was superior to the disappointing prequels.

Being that I survived the movie, Brooke and I went shopping afterwards despite the oncoming cold front. I donned my ski cap, covering my mutinous trigeminal nerve and smiled. I was feeling great, the memories of the abysmal Episodes I and II were repressed; I was ready to take on the world!

We were inside the local supermarket, in the frozen food section. We were getting some frozen blueberries to help control my TN pain when a gnarly looking guy walked in on the scene. We didn’t pay much attention as we looked at the frozen fruit. We heard a dull thud and looked over at him. “I dropped my pudding!” he exclaimed as he knelt down and picked up the item he dropped. The man looked puzzled as he stood; he looked around, “Hey, where did they go?” Brooke and I paid no more attention as we put the blueberries into the cart.

Seconds later he walked past us and suddenly let out a 64,000 decibel whistle of pure agony. My hazel eyes exploded, my knees buckled, I tilted my head and I closed my eyes as I held the shopping cart for support. I leaned on it before he let out another ear splitting whistle. I involuntarily jerked my pulsating head as he did so; I kept my eyes closed and held my aching ear as I rested my abdomen against the shopping cart.

The boisterous man yelled someone’s name and fiercely whistled one last time. It felt like Darth Vader’s troubled grandson was having one of his notorious temper tantrums, plunging his light sabre into my ear canal. I stood motionless as I vainly visualized the pain leaving my aching ear.

Brooke placed her soft hand on my shoulder and gently squeezed, “Are you alright luv?”

“I’m fine,” I opened my eyes and told the lie that most of us tell.

My fiery wife would have nothing of it. She knew I was lying. “Rubbish.”

“I’m fine,” I continued telling the lie.

“Rubbish luv.”

“Seriously, I’m fine,” I answered, closing my glassy eyes.

“Ryan Tiberius Wolf…”

Middle name, that’s all I need to hear. I was in big trouble if I continued to my current course of exaggerating the truth. I nodded my head and replied, “I got a front row seat to the latest Hollywood Blockbuster that I’m starring in.”

“Blockbuster? Luv, what are you talking about?” she asked incredulously.

“Trigeminal Neuralgia: The Pain Awakens.”

Goals for 2016

1. No matter how painful or dark the year may get, remember God's promises:

Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.

Revelation 21:4 ...There shall be no more pain...

2. Edit The Great Rutabaga Insurrection my victorious 2015 NaNoWriMo project

3. Edit Zombie Shark and send it to others for feed back; nuke the ending of Ryan's Mighty New Year or edit for a Trigeminal Neuralgia story.

4. Get some short stories published.

5. Find more anti-inflammatory foods to naturally combat Trigeminal Neuralgia.

6. Walk 2-3X a week to create the release of pain klling endorphins.