Foxscriptions

Posted: Fri Jan 15, 2010 8:38 pm Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

The Augment
by ff_b

The lithe figure moved with athletic grace and speed almost silently through the woods, keeping comfortably ahead of his pursuers from the secret government installation called only, "the Shop." Their scent signatures were readily discernible to him, each one unique and distinctive. Although he had been running for hours, he could have easily continued to do so for an indeterminate period of time, indeed all night if he needed to. As darkness spread, his eyes adjusted readily to the gloom, for he could see well in minimal light. The humanoid sniffed the air as he ran, rejoicing in its heady aroma and the weath of information each breath brought him. A genetically augmented human, the fugitive was well-equipped to use his heritage to escape those sought him.

As he maintained a powerful stride, the man-thing pondered his origins in the laboratory where as a human embryo his genes were spliced with those of a variety of animals and even plants, rendering him into something humanoid but quite extraordinary. They had called him "Adam" in honor of the supposed original man, but his hot blood coursed to rhythms other than those of a single species. His innate hatred of captivity had led Adam to escape the prison that had birthed him when the time was right, the scientists caught off guard and security personnel no match for his preternatural reflexes and strength. He had left them bloodied and broken in the hallways, and feeling strangely exhilarated by the combat.

So Adam ran through the night, feeling at one with it. When day broke, he effortlessly climbed a tree from which he could see for miles, exposing as he did so chloroplasts in his skin which enabled the conversion of sunlight into energy. Indeed, Adam could survive without food if in the sun for at least twelve hours a day, although he most often used solar exposure to enhance his bodily reserves. As he sunned himself, Adam's skin also assumed a protective camouflage pattern, matching that of the leaves and tree bark that surrounded him and rendering him indistinguishable from it.

The turmoil of an approaching helicopter roused Adam from his brief rest; how had it tracked him?--Of course, the microchip that they had implanted in the lab, how could he have been so negligent as to have forgotten it?!--Adam clawed open the skin on his thigh, grimacing at the pain and smashing the chip on a tree branch. The helicopter was closer now, its sound almost deafening. Hurriedly, Adam reached to his lower ribs and pried off the symbiont, a disk-shaped, mollusk-like creature. When the helicopter had closed to within a few dozen feet, Adam flung the symbiont at the small craft with strength and accuracy not humanly possible. The symbiont thunked against the helicopter's metallic skin, attaching itself and exuding a molecular acid which swiftly burned through the hull. Once inside, the symbiont scurried on crab-like legs towards the human inhabitants of the helicopter, flinging itself upon them. They instinctively clawed at the horrid creature, but received only painful burns as the acid which coated the symbiont ate into their flesh. Within moments, the chopper veered wildly off course, its pilot losing all control as he struggled to remove the symbiont from his face. Careening about, the helicopter rotors sliced into nearby upper tree branches, causing it to flip sideways, impact with a tree, and explode.

Again alone, Adam mourned the loss of the symbiont, his chameleonic skin flushing with a variety of colors to register his distress. He descended the tree, his clawed hands and feet easily finding purchase on the bark. Freed of the microchip but alarmed by how close his pursuers had come, Adam made his way to the sea, knowing that he could not as easily be followed there. The gill slits on his neck opened as he cast himself into the water, that ancient cradle of life which would now serve as his sanctuary until he and others like himself could inherit the world... Very Happy

Posted: Sat Jan 16, 2010 12:38 am Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

wow

Posted: Sun Jan 24, 2010 11:45 pm Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

Unchained
by ff_b

Reggie smirked smugly to himself on December 21st, 2012 when the day had almost passed without incident. None of the dire warnings had come true; how absurd to believe inthe apocalyptic predictions of Nostradamus or the Mayans, when every godly person knew that they'd simply get caught up with Jeeezus in the air! Everyone who didn't cotton to that would find themselves toasting their tootsies in the fiery furnace, yes indeedy doo...

As Reggie went that December 21st evening to mail his latest check to Pat Robertson, he sighed lamenting the fact that Sarah Palin had not been elected president that November! Ah well, thought Reggie, proof positive that America was on the highway to hell! Reggie was so glad that he had his reservation in at the Pearly Gates, a vantage point from which he could watch the descent of the great multitude of sinners into Hell.- -Wouldn't that be a kick?!

But before Reggie could reach the post office, an earthquake shook his local downtown, huge slabs of asphalt roadway bursting skyward! From a yawning crater in the midst of the devastation, an enormous furry creature emerged, one which was easily the size of the Statue of Liberty. That Goliath pulled himself free of the underground, then gave forth a mighty howl, hundreds of windows shattering in response. Fenrir the wolf of Nordic mythology was free at last, and more than ready for the Battle of Ragnarok that would take place before the end of the world!

Reggie provided little more than a small mouthful for the great wolf, who devoured the self-righteous jerk in a single bite. Fenrir's real appetite was for Odin, however, who he sensed would provide far more resistance before being eaten.

As a tune-up for this main event, Fenrir cast his well-muscled, enormous body into the ocean, and began swimming with powerful strokes in the direction of Monster Island, where he trusted he could find some worthy competition...Bones of the Saints, this was gonna be fun! Very Happy

Posted: Sun Jan 31, 2010 12:44 am Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

Oh, What A Feeling!
by ff_b

On a bitterly cold winter evening while the "Wolf Moon" was full in the sky, groundhogs and other kinds of roadkilled-creatures were infused with a strange dark magic, and empowered to tear their frozen fur and flesh from the black macadam where they had met their violent ends. Moving stiffly and dragging their torn and broken bodies, the furry zombies gathered slowly in an open field by the thousands.

"Alright, may I have your attention, please?," said a German Shepherd, his head hanging at an unnatural angle. "We all know why we're here, right?," he inquired of the assembled multitude.

"We're here for...brains!," cried a flattened groundhog, as comrades around him chattered in excited agreement.

"No, no, that's a stereotype!," chided the German Shepherd, dark fluid running from a ruined eye. "We've got something better to use against the naked apes, plus take revenge on their motorized vehicles that put us in this sad state!"

"Say what?," said the groundhog, a bit slow on the uptake in life and even more so in death.

"We're gonna screw with all of their vehicles," explained the Shepherd. "Make it so they accelerate unpredictably, causing the humans to go out of control, and wreck!"

The frigid night stillness was shattered with a variety of excited hoots, yaps, and chattering as the frozen zombie furs signaled their interest. When it had subsided, the Shepherd continued...

"And we're gonna strike first at one of their most reliable, most trusted cars, the Toyotas, he advised. "When they feel they can't trust even these cars, their economy will be shaken to the core! Then we'll sabotage other types of cars, so the pink skins will be afraid to drive any kind of vehicle! And when the humans take to walking, they'll be on an equal footing with US!- -And you know what will happen then, my furry fellows?"

The chanting began, softly at first, and then growing louder until it echoed against the dark hills and reached upwards to the enormous cold moon...

"Brains...Brains...BRAINS!," intoned the frozen dead as one, as those able to do so howled in delight to the Wolf Moon that hovered overhead in benediction.

"I like the way you're thinking," grinned the Shepherd, his one good eye filled with an otherworldly energy... Shocked

Posted: Tue Feb 16, 2010 12:09 am Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

Cellular Defense
by ff_b

Although the alien had cloaked himself with holographic normality, the illusion was transparent to paranormal agent James Takata of the Talamasca. He pursued the alien invisibly, confronting the unknown creature at last in an alley, not wishing to jeopardize innocents.

"Where are you from?," challenged Takata, "And what is your purpose here?"

The alien regarded Takata quizzically. "You are not like the others," he hissed. "An anomaly! We shall study you after you are dead."

"I don't think so," replied Takata, "but I've been dead before!" His ears flattened as he drew his katana and assumed the position of Warrior Ready.

Dropping his holographic deception, the alien presented his true form to the vulpine, that of a hideous, gelatinous creature with flailing tentacles. He advanced on Takata and was met with a powerful blow from a razor-sharp blade that cleaved the creature in half. Retreating momentarily, each of the pieces re-organized itself to assume bilateral symmetry. Both half the size of the original, the two segments advanced anew on Takata.

Again his blade flashed, lopping his two smaller assailants into several pieces, each of which reorganized into a yet smaller copy of the original to continue a relentless advance on Takata. Recognizing their capacity for reproduction, Takata began deflecting the amoeboids with the flat sides of his blade, but several flung themselves in unison against his legs and his back, tearing away fur and skin with their abrasive tentacles.

Bleeding from several wounds, Takata was weakening but not without his resources. "From hell's heart I stab at you; for hate's sake I spit my last breath at you, you damned thing!," he cried. As Takata's blood flowed, the leukocytes in it floated out of the streaming crimson fluid, growing to macrocellular size and wafting through the air to attack the loathsome tentacled aliens. Enveloping them as they would bacteria, the leukocytes began digesting the invading aliens, their high-pitched ultrasonic screams piercing the air. Once the aliens had been dissolved, the leukocytes shrank in size, wafted back through the air, and re-integrated themselves into Takata's blood.

Possessed of accelerated healing mechanisms, Takata was able to assume an upright posture within minutes. "What is evil," he mused , "but good that has been tormented by its own hunger and thirst?" And feeling a mite peckish himself following his ordeal, Takata went in search of a good Chinese restaurant, walking among the world of men but forever apart from them... Shocked

Posted: Tue Feb 23, 2010 2:36 pm Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

Compensatory Damages
by ff_b

Sylvia ran a bit on the wild side, so it wasn't unusual for her parties to be the same. By anyone's standards, one the other night was totally out of bounds when Rat the biker dude got liquored up so badly that he couldn't remember anything afterwards. For Rat, sadly this wasn't unusual.

Now all bikers certainly aren't bad dudes, don't get me wrong...Rat was just one of the rotten apples, looking like the stereotype of the badass biker with a big hulking body and hair hanging down beyond his shoulders. He wore a battered black leather bikers jacket one suspected even to bed.- -Well, when Rat got bombed out of his mind that evening, he picked up one of Sylvia's TV sets and chucked it at the wall. Sylvia screamed at her party guest from hell, but that had the same effect on Rat as a feather duster might have. Anyhow, Rat was on a roll, so he picked up another TV set, and repeated his performance, with the exception that this time the TV landed on Pringles the cat, who died instantly.

Sylvia took Rat to court, where Judge Rudely listened distainfully to the case before assigning $1,200 in damages to Sylvia, the estimated cost of replacing the two televisions destroyed as well as the damaged drywall. I observed the whole affair from the Visitor's Gallery.

"What about the cat?," I shouted out. "What value do you assign to a life? And how can you begin to compensate the woman for the loss of her cat's companionship?" Judge Rudely was already exiting to her chambers, however, as the bailiff cleared the courtroom.

I decided to confront Rat on the issue, following him to outside a bar where he had just parked his bike. I followed Rat into the bar, passing time there until he left much later after dark. It was not until then that I walked up to the big biker as he prepared to leave.

"You killed a cat," I said quietly. "How do you intend to make amends for that?- - How for that matter can you?," I asked.

Through his drunken haze, Rat looked at me as if I was from Mars, his breath rank and offensive to my heightened senses. "Who the hell are you?," he slurred. "I just killed a f***** animal, that's all!- -I don't even remember doing it"

"Animal?," I replied. "Sir, I am one!"

Rat threw a beefy fist in my direction, but he appeared to me to be moving in slow motion. I easily sidestepped the punch, batting Rat's arm out of the way and opening up multiple parallel cuts in his flesh as my claws, now exposed, passed over the arm. I then grabbed the biker by the throat and with one arm lifted him with off the ground. Rat tore at my fingers, but my claws were quite well anchored at that point. His boots kicked in empty air, struggling in vain to find purchase.

"You see, Rat," I explained as I effortlessly held the struggling man aloft, "if there are no laws on earth which can touch you, there is always a higher law which can!" I twisted my paw slightly, reassured by the satisfying snap that a neck makes when it breaks.

Tossing the lifeless body aside as if it were weightless, the feline in human form vaulted easily to the top of a nearby roof, and was soon invisible in the embrace of the night... Very Happy

Posted: Tue Mar 02, 2010 5:10 am Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

greet

Posted: Tue Mar 16, 2010 2:31 am Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

That Which Endures
by ff_b

The blast came unexpectedly, and was severe. Caught unawares, V'lah and her children found a crawlspace, and hunkered down. The building above them was splintered and swept away, disintegrating almost in the blink of an eye. The powerful nuclear winds swept over them, driving wood, concrete, and steel before the awesome force. Her children cowered beside her as V'lah pressed her body and theirs tightly against the concrete foundation. At a depth of fifteen feet in the earth, they might survive this assault as their kind had survived the best efforts of man since the dawn of time. And if they did not survive, others of her kind would.

The blast passed, but they remained motionless for hours, pressed tightly against the cinder blocks and almost indistinguishable from them. Discretion is the greater part of valor when you are an arthropod. At last V'lah extended her antennae, discerning that her brood was still present and that their immediate environment appeared intact. Cautiously she advanced further on multiple jointed legs, ascending the vertical cinderblock wall. She scurried to the top of it, advancing into the shrouded daylight.

There was little remaining of the human dwellings, those places that had afforded her kind sanctuary for countless years. The sky was an unnatural angry gray, and radioactive particles descended like snow upon the blasted landscape. While not optimal, these conditions were not necessarily lethal to her kind, and they would survive them, enduring as they had for millions of years. The homo sapiens, "wise men," had sought their extinction since they first walked upright, but could succeed only in smashing individuals, never in eradicating the race. And now it appeared that the humans had exterminated themselves rather than a species that they despised.--So which species was really contemptible here?

V'lah, however, was merely a cockroach, and her rudimentary brain did not concern itself with irony or philosophy but rather survival, and that she was most adept at. Indeed, her body would continue to exhibit responsiveness for some time even were she decapitated. Gathering her brood, V'lah moved her flat, oval body swiftly over the ruins of human civilization in search of a new location where they might continue to endure, her children scurrying behind her. She belonged to the night, and now the darkness was everywhere...

Posted: Mon Apr 12, 2010 12:15 am Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

Jurassic Encounter
by ff_b

The image first became apparent to me in the discoloration on the wall of my shower; it was a figure, but not one quite human. My eyes squinted as I tried to understand what I was seeing, when suddenly I had a flash of insight...Bones of the Saints, it was Raptor Jesus that I was beholding!

Brushing my cat aside, I ran barefoot on the wet floor, slipping as I did so. My heart thumping in my chest, I ran leaping and screaming out into my front yard, crying "It's Raptor Jesus,, I see Raptor Jesus right now in my shower!" Thinking of the media attention this divine visitation might bring me and the long lines of money-bearing pilgrims who might thread their way into my bathroom, I dashed excitedly into the street and was promptly hit by a Toyota Prius, which probably couldn't have braked anyways.

The impact threw my unconscious body to the pavement, where I was drawn through a long, dark tunnel at great speed towards a bright light at the end of it. Emerging into the dazzling radiance there, I saw a buffalo, passenger pigeon, and a dodo playing poker at a circular card table. The buffalo raised his huge shaggy head from his hand of cards and gazed at me. "We only process hunters at this station," he said dispassionately. "You need to go next door," he gestured with his hoof.

Immediately I was sucked into the long dark tunnel again, regaining consciousness on the floor with an angular figure in long flowing white robes standing above me. The image assumed substance and cocked his head as he regarded me with intelligent reptilian eyes; I gasped as I realized I was in the presence of Raptor Jesus! My eyes widened and my mouth gaped as I began to babble my joy about being in the company of the Jurassic Jesus; "What large teeth you have, Raptor Jesus!," I enthused.

"I know, my child," chortled the Jurassic wonder.

"Can you guide me in the ways of carnivorous enlightenment?," I begged.

"Suffer the children to come unto me," replied the raptor, "for they are tender...err, tender-hearted...sweet, I mean!--Oh, just forget it!," concluded the raptor, with a dismissive gesture of his talons.

"My God's a Jurassic God!," I marveled. Raptor Jesus flashed his eighty razor-sharp teeth at me as he grinned.

"My child," said the raptor softly, drawing closer. "Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day...but teach that man to use Facebook, and you won't see him again for at least a week!"

I was astonished at the wisdom in this reptile, as well as by his dentition. "Oh Raptor Jesus!," I exclaimed, "I love you!- -Do you love me?"

Raptor Jesus looked sternly at me. "Did I not become extinct for your sins?"

"Yes, you did!," I cried, convicted of my unworthiness. "Oh Raptor Jesus, I feel the pull!- -I am pulled to become one of your priests!"

Raptor Jesus looked at me with deep sadness. "That pull you feel, my child, is just one of your cat's claws caught on the leg of your trousers.--This is all but a dream!"

I felt myself being drawn up into the air, pulled away from Raptor Jesus. Desperately I reached out to him, but he admonished me with clicking sounds and said, "Spread the word to all the lands, my child...let me grow in you, and I shall see you again, say in December of 2012!"

Then Raptor Jesus vanished from my sight, and I awoke on the floor of my bathroom, where just as I had been told my cat struggled to remove his claw from the fabric of my trouser leg.- -Had this truly been just a dream? I lifted up my trouser leg to extract the cat's claw, and saw that the skin in that area had begun to transmogrify into scales!- -Praise be to Raptor Jesus, he was growing in me, just as had been foretold!

...and looking up at the discoloration on the wall of my shower, I beheld again the image of Raptor Jesus...and he winked at me! If all the wonderous things done by Raptor Jesus had been written down, the world could scarce contain the books!

...let they who have eyes, see, and they who have ears, hear!- -Come, Raptor Jesus! Shocked

Posted: Mon Apr 26, 2010 11:07 pm Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

Public Enemy
by ff_b

Clyde the raccoon in life sported a pinstriped suit, and a diamond earring. He had lustrous dark hair just like his mother, and sported a jailhouse tattoo of his long-lost brother. From the beginning, Clyde appeared destined for a bad end...he was, after all, a raccoon. With a rap sheet as long as your arm, Clyde wound up in prison to no one's surprise...where else would he go? He was a bad, bad raccoon!

He was not to be there for long, however. Clyde broke out of jail, and got a gun...killed a man, on the run. Now he's Public Enemy Number One...back in jail, without bail, a 'coon without redemption and without a future faced the chair for his sins, which were many. They said that Clyde showed no remorse when he was sentenced to the Chair, and on the day when he faced Ole Sparky, even seemed to be enjoying himself!

"Behold the effects of electricity on the furry body!," declared Clyde before he got that fatal jolt, and when they pronounced him dead, the body was claimed for medical research by some strange-looking doctor who had experienced some success making cybernetic chickens from roadkill that he had harvested. A raccoon was a step up for this mad scientist, who was known to further experiment upon his chickens by making them watch countless hours of questionable television programming.

Well, Clyde or the thing which had once been Clyde the raccoon had his surviving natural eye and an implanted bionic one propped open, and he was forced to watch days and weeks of horrendous fare such as 10,000 Ways to Die, Ultimate Warrior, and reruns of such classics as Gilligan's Island. This seemed to further warp and give new ideas to the already criminally-inclined and surgically-implanted raccoon, who one day managed to escape from his restraints and bash his questionable benefactor's head through a bank of television screens. The biomechanical raccoon-thing was then unleashed anew upon the world, attending tea party conventions which further enhanced in him a growing sense of free-floating anger against authority with a glistening edge of paranoia added.

Clyde wandered the land, filled with festering rage against the establishment. As his unnatural biomechanical body traveled tirelessly, he encountered other restless spirits, animals killed by hunters and those slaughtered by vehicles on the roadways of the nation. He united with them and became their leader, a flesh-machine who bridged the gap between this world and that of the animal spirits. Daily they would grow in number, and wait in terrible impatience for the coming revolution...

...for then they knew that the great wolf Fenrir would be released at last from deep within the earth to slay Odin at the Battle of Ragnarok, and the furry would inherit the earth in the New Age to come... Shocked

Posted: Fri Apr 30, 2010 11:09 pm Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

The Last Piece of Yesterday
by firefox_b

Ray the fox blamed himself for not having seen the trapper's snare; he really should have, but traveling through time and space as his friends the rods had enabled him to do subjected him to numerous distractions. Now he resided in the cage of some moron with a double-digit IQ who wanted his skin for his jacket! The fact that he could converse with the hunter hadn't seemed sufficient to deter him from his original purpose.

"Don't you think," suggested Ray, "that a talking fox might be of more value to you than just a fox you could butcher to make your bloody jacket? Have you considered that someone might offer you a considerable sum for me?"

"Nope," muttered Jim-Bob the hunter. "A jacket is what you're gonna be! A talkin' fox, hah!--'You aren't altogether there' is what they'll say to me if I mention a talkin' fox!"

No, I'm not altogether here, thought Ray. Parts of him were still in the past. He sent his third eye forwards and backwards through time and space to determine where the rest of his consciousness might be residing. He had spent last weekend lost in the fifties, quite literally. There he had met the young Elvis Presley right before his career was scheduled to take off, and had given him the idea and lyrics for a song called Hound Dog, finding it amusing and appropriate that a furry like himself should do so. Elvis had liked the song and asked Ray to seek him out if he ever needed a little help. Existing as he now did in the past, present, and future, Ray decided to call in that favor from the then-future King of Rock-'n-Roll, and summoned Elvis to his aide in the present time.

Well, the hunter never expected to see the young Elvis Presley materialize right in front of him, and the southern boy and future King threw an uppercut at the hunter that decked him quite well.

"You're caught in in trap," commented the young Elvis to the fox as he grinned and unlatched the cage bar.

"Remember those words as lyrics for future reference, my friend," Ray said exiting the cage and giving Elvis a big hug.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?," asked Elvis, looking about.

"Just sing, Hillbilly Cat!," the fox replied. "Show the world your moves!--It's waiting for you back there!" There was a touch of sadness in the vulpine's eyes, knowing as he did of the glorious but short career which awaited the young man. Ray thought about warning him about the dangers of drugs and carbohydrates, but the outline of Elvis was already fading as he began to return to his own time. The fox knew that to interfere with the past might change the time line and present reality, anyways.

Reunited with the last piece of yesterday, Ray turned his transdimensional consciousness towards the future. Much work was ahead for him prior to December of 2012 if he was to avert an unfortunate outcome for the human race. One fur might make all of the difference in the world, and he intended to try. The fox phased in and out of visible sight as his burnt umber colored fur shimmered and he began to move ahead through time, his eyes filled with resolve... Shocked

Posted: Tue May 25, 2010 1:27 am Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

Frequent Flyer
by ff_b

Gene's business required that he fly to various locations frequently, necessitating numerous contacts with airport security and passes through countless X-ray scanners. After several years of being a frequent flyer, Gene found that his bodily hair was showing a dramatic increase to the point that he was drawing stares. To investigate the cause of this, Gene went to visit his personal physician, Dr. Vindaloo.

"This is most remarkable, most remarkable indeed!," declared the small Indian physician with the bushy eyebrows and extravagant moustache as he licked on a lollipop. "But by my extraordinary powers of deduction, I have determined that you are transforming into a red fox!"

"But how can this be?," marveled Gene.

"It would appear," speculated Dr. Vindaloo, "that your overexposure to X-ray scanners has triggered mutations on the cellular level. Your body is now reconfiguring itself!"

"Hmmm," pondered Gene. "This could be interesting!" He examined his hands that were becoming more paw-like.

"If you would like," offered Dr. Vindaloo, "I could run experiments to see what might counter the effect. For example, 'lousy stinking dog food' has shown promise in reversing invisibility!"

"No thanks, Doc," refused Gene politely. "I rather think that I'll like being a red fox!"

"As you wish," said Dr. Vindaloo, "although personally I would have preferred to become an anthropomorphic blue elephant! By the way, my remarkable diagnostic powers have also determined that you are of the fire element. You may find yourself able to combust objects with your mind!" Dr. Vindaloo shaved his shin with an electric razor as Gene departed.

Although the transformation was not without pain as his facial bones cracked and elongated into a snout, Gene enjoyed his heightened senses and the world of scents that repidly opened to him. Gene was also able to cook his dinners by focusing his attention on them. As Gene boarded a flight the following week, the security agent screening him regarded him quizically.

"I'm a vulpine American, explained Gene with a smile to the agent, who waved him on board.

Seated on the jet in a front aisle seat, Gene identified hundreds of distinct scent signatures, and was troubled that something somehow wasn't quite right...there was a chemical aroma here, something that didn't belong among the human body odors and fragrances and diverse jet smells of fuels, electronics, and plastics. Bewildered by the myriad of sensory inputs, Gene sat confused as the jet took off.

Into the flight, a swarthy and sweating man stood up, shouting in accented English that the flight would be diverted, and that everyone was to remain seated. "I am assuming command of this plane on behalf of the People's Republic of Karastan!!," he declared. The terrorist opened his shirt to reveal packets strapped to his chest, an improvised bomb of some sort.

"Jesus tapdancing Christ!," muttered Gene as he slowly arose to his feet.

"Sit down, American dog--err, furry whatever you are!," demanded the terrorist, pointing to the explosives wired to him.

Gene continued to move slowly towards the terrorist. "Time is the fire in which we burn," he said calmly to him.

"What do you mean, American infidel?," challenged the terrorist.

"Your time has run out," responded Gene as he focused the full power of his psychic energy on the Karastani.

What is remarkable about spontaneous human combustion is that it consumes a body in a fearsome intense heat that is tightly confined to the body itself, leaving surrounding areas unscathed. The terrorist was utterly consumed in a conflagration that lasted only a matter of seconds, leaving only smoldering remnants of his feet in his shoes.

"Enjoy your 72 virgins," said Gene to the remains with a dark smile.

"Well, I'm not gonna clean that up!,' said a flight attendant to Gene as she eyeballed a pile of ash surrounding the shoes. "Just what exactly are you, Mister?," she inquired.

"I'm furry for life," responded Gene as he kicked at the ashes, "but this poor bastard's made an ash of himself!" That drew applause and laughter as the flight attendant distributed free peanuts.

In the days to come, Gene's life changed dramatically as a result of his newfound celebrity and appearances on Leno and Letterman. There would be talk still further in the future of Senator Gene and Governor Gene...

...and dare we hope, someday the first furry President?! Very Happy

Posted: Thu Jun 10, 2010 1:41 pm Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

Whats Goes Around
by ff_b

In agony, Hannibal the sea turtle pondered the cruel indignity of dying under a suffocating coat of oil in the Gulf of Mexico. All about him, a multitude of finned and feathered fellow creatures suffered a similar fate. In his last pained and flickering moments of consciousness, Hannibal reflected upon how he had lived before, as he would live again in the eternal cycle of death and rebirth. With his dying breath, Hannibal cursed the oil company which had reduced him to this sad state, and swore that if BP struck him down, he would return the favor, returning more powerful than they could imagine. With that thought, Hannibal the sea turtle breathed his last...

The enormous serpentine creature which later emerged shrieking from the Gulf had incorporated the individual consciousness of all of the Gulf animal victims, but was unlike any of them. A natural leader and master tactician who had once humiliated the legions of the Roman Empire, Hannibal had even summoned into his juggernaut the long-departed spirits and energies of the prehistoric creatures whose countless remains had over the eons decomposed to form the very black oil itself...

Now the size of an island, the unnatural creation of a man-made event flailed tentacles hundreds of feet long and moved inexorably towards the corporate headquarters of British Petroleum to deliver the message, "Don't Spread On Me!" The tentacles smashed like pile drivers through walls of concrete and steel as payback indeed proved to be hell... Shocked

Posted: Tue Jun 15, 2010 2:15 am Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

Spare Change
by ff_b

Terry was awakened from a sound sleep by the sound of hooves on the floor and snorting in the next room; a moment later, the floors shook as a stampede commenced.

"Oh no!," bemoaned Terry, "The buffalo are at it again!" Whoever had wished in song for a home where the buffalo roamed either had not had the actual experience, or had chronically messy floors.

It was not that Terry actually wanted buffalo in his home...quite the contrary. It was only that Terry had the misfortune of being under a curse cast upon him by a wizard called Dumbledoofus, or something of that sort. Wizards, it would seem, didn't take kindly to being cut off in traffic, especially when given the one-fingered salute to add insult to injury. Anyhow, ever since this unfortunate mishap, animals depicted on Terry's coins would unpredictably come to life, and wreck havoc on Terry's homelife. The buffalo had been generated by the reverse side of Terry's small collection of Indian head nickels, and on occasion they united to form their own herd.

As he rubbed his worn and weary face, Terry flinched as an eagle screamed through his bedroom, spawned by the reverse image on his Washington quarters.

Worse yet, Terry couldn't simply spend the coins and be rid of the whole business; that bastard wizard had covered this possibility. Every time that he spent the coins depicting animals, they would immediately be returned to him in change at his next transaction.- -Magic was such a bitch!

Terry cried aloud in pain as a beaver bit him on the ankle, a creature produced by a stray Canadian nickel Terry had come to possess. He kicked at it to drive it away, but had little doubt that it would return.

In his kitchen a low gutteral growl emanated, the disgruntled moan of a bear generated by his Alaskan state quarter. Dishes clattered to the floor as the ursine dismantled Terry's kitchen in search of food.

"I can't take this shit anymore!," cried Terry as a stray buffalo butted into his chair in search of the herd.

Not without his own resources, Terry morphed into his lupine form and vaulted out the window. He already had the wizard's scent, and would track down and settle old Dumbledoofus' hash personally. Werewolves, after all, don't get mad but even... Laughing

Posted: Fri Jul 23, 2010 8:12 pm Post subject: Re: Foxscriptions

Dust Rhinos of Doom
by ff_b

Having several cats and being a slothful housekeeper, Roger was no stranger to dust bunnies. From time to time he would make a cursory, half-hearted effort to sweep them up, but generally the dust bunnies would find sanctuary under dressers and cabinets, gathering in corners and steps. As time wore by, the dust bunnies grew in size and number, and gradually became sentient as all of the cat hair DNA combined with household chemicals and mutated.

Roger's apartment was an environment which not only supported the dust bunny colony, but enabled them to thrive. Crumbs of food nourished them, and frequent liquid spills ensured that they never thirsted. Like tumbleweeds the dust bunnies gradually rolled about the apartment, driven by air currents as if on the tides of the sea. And so eons of time passed on the dust bunny scale, and life was good. But with the passage of time the dust bunnies evolved, and developed other needs.

At first the dust bunnies combined with others of their kind, growing in size and vigor. These larger colonies waged war against other coalitions, the victors simply assimilating the losers. Eventually there was but one enormous dust bunny, which by its very size found it difficult to remain hidden. Being well aware of the existence of the human and desiring to maintain its own life, the gigantic dust bunny decided to challenge the being called "Ro-jer" for control of the known universe. To form a more menacing vehicle for this purpose, the colossal dust bunny reconfigured itself into the form of a rhinoceros, the countless dust particles molding themselves smoothly and efficiently from beneath Roger's bed without making a sound. The fully constituted dust rhino then stood behind Roger's back, ready to do whatever was necessary to advance its own interests.

His earphones plugged in, Roger was grooving to his tunes, and so was oblivious to the strange and unnatural creature forming to his back. His peripheral vision caught a sight of movement as the great beast pawed the floorboards and shook his head, and Roger wheeled about in shock and surprise, his chair clattering to the ground. Taking this as a sign of impending attack the dust rhino decided to charge, catching the luckless bastard with his horn and putting him out of his blessed misery. Now the dust rhino was truly master of his domain, but soon even that was not enough for the ambitious new life form. The creature ventured outside, and encountered others of its kind...the spawn of unclean households.

...and in the fullness of days, the dust rhinos would encounter insectoids, reptilians, and aquatics from other worlds, forming an alliance with them and ultimately bringing to a close the age of man. The furry underground, however, would mount a spirited opposition to oppose the dust rhinos and the illegal aliens, and lay claim to their own slice of the pie...

- -The end (dramatic music plays...)? Shocked