The Olympics are going on now in China and I am not watching them.  I'd like to say that it is because I am protesting the numerous violations of China against human rights, but the real reason is this: the Olympics are incredibly boring.

ABOVE:  The Olympics unite the world in common boredom.

It's not like I didn't try to watch the Olympics a few times already.  I watched about 5 minutes of the opening ceremonies, which featured a bunch of people running around with light-bulbs attached to their clothing.  Then some little girl pretending to fly a kite flew across the arena on cables.  All during this time, commentators were describing the meaning behind each little design-touch in the performance, much like how the moderators montonously describe each float in the Rose Bowl Parade.  Plus, there were commercial breaks every 5 minutes, so I lost interest quickly.

ABOVE:  This waste of time brought to you by Pizza Hut.

I tried turning on the Olympics a few other times and usually hit more commericals that were especially annoying.  The few times I actually saw Olympic games being played, it was like watching paint dry.  I saw some people playing volleyball, which was interesting for 10 seconds.  Another time, I saw people paddling in a kayak, which was interesting for about 3 seconds.

The Olympics are just plain boring.  I cannot understand how other people I know can spend an entire evening watching this stuff.  Until the fight-to-the-death competition is introduced to the games, (Come on China!  This is right up your alley!) I'll be engaging in more exciting forms of entertainment, like reading a book or scrubbing my toilet bowl.

ABOVE:  These are the Chinese Olympic mascots.  If they periodically showed little cartoon episodes of these weird bear-creatures fighting monsters or something during the Olympics... that would be kind of cool.

Wow.  So I just got done watching the new David Lynch movie "Inland Empire".  As expected, I am left with the usual "WTF?!!!" state of confusion that only a Lynch film can provide, but beyond that, I am also now thoroughly tense and paranoid.  This film seemed to be even more off-the-wall nightmarish schitzoid than previous Lynch works.

Don't get me wrong... I did like this movie a lot for some strange reason.  But me liking this movie is not going to stop the assured nightmares that are going to be coming tonight.  Man, there are some really freaky techniques used in this movie that are seemingly designed to turn everyone who watches it into some sort of shivering, psychotic crack addict.  Yikes.  Between trying to make some sort of sense out of what exactly I just saw and trying to just plain calm down my freaked-out nerves, I'll be lucky to get any sleep at all tonight.

So in conclusion, go watch "Inland Empire" as soon as you can.  It's a hoot!  A

Just thought I'd say I made it back to Colorado from Iowa tonight a-okay.  Had a good time out there and the drive isn't too bad, even though it's still a day's worth of travel.

I got to check out the flood damage and I have to say that they've gotten a lot of clean-up done in the past week.  It still looks like a war-zone and there are tons of ruined buildings, but at least the river level has receded a bit.  It's going to take quite a long time for the town to recover.

Other than that, I had a good relaxing time hanging out with the friends n' folks.  Now it's time for me to wind down from the long drive.

Apologies for the boring blog!

I got a few e-mails during the morning today that seemed kind of weird, but I didn't pay too much attention to them.  Then right before lunch today, I finally realized that my hometown of Cedar Rapids, Iowa was pretty much destroyed by floodwaters.  It's really unbelievable the pictures and videos I've been seeing.  If you check out some of the pictures and videos, you have to understand that these roads and bridges and the general downtown area is typically about 3 stories above the normal river level.  This isn't just a normal flood; this is a ridiculously sudden rise in water level that has NEVER been recorded anywhere in the history of the state.  Crazy stuff.

ABOVE:  My hometown in happier times.  Good place.

ABOVE:  Downtown Cedar Rapids.  Fucked.

I can't explain how completely destroyed this city is.  It is truly awful.  And it took half a day before the news headlines were replaced with "Tim Russert Dies".  Crackerjack.

ABOVE:  "The Day After Tomorrow" in Cedar Rapids.

Anyways, if you happen to be in the area, my prayers are definitely with you.  I was (and still am) planning to head back there in a couple of weeks, so I guess I'll see this stuff firsthand.  No one I know directly lost their homes or anything, but the downtown library was completely wrecked, so my mom may be out of a job.  But she was really just doing the work for something to do, so it's not a big deal for her.  But for many people it is.  A friend of my sister's lost her house.

Wow.  This is so crazy and sudden of a disaster.  Blows my mind.  Needless to say, I am drinking tonight.

My Crazy Hike up Gray's Peak

So this past Sunday I guess I was bored, so I decided that it was high-time for me to try hiking up my first Colorado 14'er.  A "14'er" is a mountain that is over 14,000 feet in height.  I believe that there are 55 of them in Colorado, and these make up 75% of the total 14'ers in the continental U.S.  Mt. Whitney in California is the highest 14'er in the continental U.S., but most of the Colorado ones are only a couple hundred feet less in height, so they're all pretty substantial.

It was still pretty early in the season, so I decided to try doing Gray's Peak, which is apparently one of the easier of the Colorado 14'ers.  It made sense to try an easy one first, since there was still rumored to be a bit of snow on the ground at the higher altitudes.  Most people don't start climbing 14'ers until at least June, but hey how different can it be in early May?  That's only like a few weeks difference, right?  Sure, no problem!

So anyways, I got to the trailhead at about 5:30 AM, just as the sky was starting to lighten.  Well, I guess I should say "parking area" rather than "trailhead" because the road was completely blocked with snow.  I basically had to park just off the exit ramp from the interstate and trudge up the snowy mountain road for 3 miles before even getting to the actual trailhead.  I got to pass several stuck vehicles of less fortunate hikers as well as some very spooky ruined cabins that looked to be possible current residences of the Blair Witch.

ABOVE: The morning sun rises over the sketchy cabin residence of a supernatural serial killer.

I finally arrived at the empty trailhead parking lot as the morning sun was up, although the valley was still in shadow.  I crossed a footbridge that spanned over a frozen stream and got my winter gear on.  At this point, I was leaving the protection of the pine forest and was preparing to start walking across a pretty bleak snowy valley.  The peak was still not even in sight, in spite of my hiking a good 3 and a half miles already.  Good times were indeed to be had!

ABOVE:  At the trailhead bridge, ready to go.  I have no idea what's in store for me.

After hiking up the first ridge, all trees disappeared and I began getting smacked with some fierce winds.  These photos I took don't do justice to conveying what the wind was like during the entire hike from this point on.  The photos make it look like a calm still day.  Not so!!!  There were furious little corkscrews of blowing wind that would hit me so hard, I would have to stop walking and turn around to avoid being blown over... and this was still on relatively level ground.  I could see these frequent forces of mountain hurricane wind coming at me in advance too; it kind of reminded me of that one booby-trap in "Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade" that chopped people's heads off... you know how you could see the cobwebs fluttering ahead right before it hit?  Yeah, kind of like that.

ABOVE:  These signs close to the trailhead show how deep the snow was.  That little nub on the right is the tip of a four-foot signpost.

Thank goodness I had brought a facemask and goggles, or else I would have turned back early.  Also thank goodness that I got a USGS map of the area before I left... the trails were completely covered and I basically had to read the topography of the land to make sure I was heading in the right direction.

ABOVE:  Switched into Ninja Mode.

After another mile or so hiking up through the valley, I made my way around a ridge and the peak itself finally came into view.  It still looked to be a long friggin' way off and the wind wasn't blowing any less fierce.  In fact, it seemed like the wind was picking up.  I could actually see the little funnel-clouds ripping up chunks of snow off of the ground in places!

ABOVE:  Why, I'm practically there already!  Piece of cake!

A little further ahead, and Torrey's Peak came into view as well.  Torrey's Peak is another 14er that can be accessed from Gray's Peak.  I was originally planning to do both of these peaks in one go, but at this rate, I would be fortunate to just do Gray's.  Besides, Gray's Peak was the taller of the two.  If I could do Gray's now, it wouldn't be a problem for me to come back later and do them both in nicer summer weather.

ABOVE:  Gray's Peak on the left, Torrey's Peak on the right.

After a couple more miles, I had climbed up the little ridges and was basically at the base of the mountain itself.  The sides of the mountain were a little more windswept.  There were still patches of deep snow, but at least the rocks were blown clean enough to make out most of the trail up the mountain in patches.  Beside a low ridge at the base of the mountain was my last bit of shelter from the wind before I'd be super-exposed the whole way up.

ABOVE:  At the mountain's base, squinting in anticipation.

ABOVE:  Looking back as I start the big climb.

Climbing up the mountain itself was slow going.  Whenver a gust came up, I would dig into the snow with my axe and wait for it to die down again.  When it passed it would get suddenly eerily quiet and I would try to get a few good yards of distance in before the next gust came up.  I also had to watch my pace, because the air was getting darn thin now and I would get dizzy if I hurried too quickly.  I was probably around 13,000 feet at this point.

I made my way from point to point, sometimes seeing a bit of trail, sometimes a wooden sign, and sometimes a pile of rocks marking a switchback.  It was pretty much just like the whole "baby steps" philosophy from the movie "What About Bob?"  Anyone remember that?  Ah well.

ABOVE:  Moving on upwards and forwards.

ABOVE:  This shot is about a third of the way up the mountain looking back at the basic path I took from the trailhead.  Keep in mind that my actual starting point went all the way behind that mountain (Mt. Kelso) and down to the interstate, which is approximately way back in that forst of trees to the left of Mt. Kelso!

Eventually, the switchbacks started getting tighter, and I knew I was making progress.  I met only one other person on the mountainside; a guy about my age who passed me on his way down when I was about halfway up.  We stopped to chat and he mentioned that he had hiked this mountain in April last year and there still had not been this much snow.  I kept on heading up.

ABOVE:  Looking up at the peak above me.

The peak gradually disappeared and I kept trudging along up the slope going back and forth and stopping very frequently for breathers.

ABOVE:  The slope getting up towards the top.

All of a sudden, the slope disappeared in front of me and I realized I had made it to the top.  I looked around me and took in the incredibly awesome view.  I was on the rooftop o' America.  Photos taken with my crappy camera can't begin to do it justice.  And even though the wind was super-wild up on top, I was now very used to it so was able to enjoy the views unencumbered, and take a few photos:

I didn't stay up there too long, partly because I knew I had a long walk back, and mostly because my feet were pretty darn wet and cold.  On my way back down, I passed one other group of 3 guys my age who might have ended up making it to the top as well, though I didn't stick around to watch them (They were about halfway up when I was coming down).  I also passed another couple who had already decided to turn back.  So other than that other guy I met earlier in the day, I was probably only 1 of 5 people who made it up Gray's Peak that day.  Pretty cool!

I ended up making it back to my car at around 4:30 PM, so it was about 11 hours for me doing something around a 15-mile hike with at least 3,000 feet of elevation gain in some pretty darn inhospitable conditions.  Pretty sweet, but I think I'm going to wait another month or so for warmer weather before trying another 14'er!

Epilouge:  That night, I had a big top sirloin steak and several shots of Jack Daniels whiskey.  It was very delicious.

The End

I'm sick of seeing all of these worthless advertisements on Myspace.  Between these and all of the fake Myspace personalities constantly contacting me to see their free naked webcam pic's, it's a wonder I still visit this site at all... But fortunately I am still a loser with too much time on his hands, so let's check out some of these shit-tastic ad's!

Wow, it's comforting to know that I live just 6 miles away from a Latina Beauty!  None of the real people on this site look like the models pictured above.  Trust me.  TRUST ME!

Do more than .001% of people on MySpace even know what a credit score is?  And I'm sure that the "Find out instantly" button really means, "Give us your credit card number instantly and we'll get back to you when we feel like it."

Here's some fun you can have with this ad.  Mentally block out everything along the right side of the image so that you are left with the image of the woman and the large text reading "It's Free!"  Ha ha.  Just like one of those little cards they hand out on the Vegas Strip.

Video Game Schools?!  Can I major in and get a degree in "Videogamery"?  My, what wonderful times we live in!  I've always wanted to just sit around and play video games for a living, and now I can!  It seems almost too good to be true!  And look, their cartoon mascot is wearing baggy jeans and a tight-fitting beanie just like other hip contemporaries of my generation!  Suh-WEET!

Wow, there's a design school TOO?!  I'm shitting my pants due to the elation over my good fortune.  Maybe all of my classmates at the video game design school will look just like this hot anime chick!  Boffo!

How do they know where I live?!  ARRRRRGH!!! GET OUT OF MY MIND!!!!!

Can YOU find the girl with the hideously orange skin?  (HINT: Look for the arrow.)

Truck!  Truck!  TRUCK!!!!  VROOOOOM!!!! You wanna truck loan?  We gotta truck loan fer ya!  Just sign on the dotted line!  Don't worry about paying just now.  It's a truck!  A RED truck!  VROOOOOOOM!!!!

This company sells roofies that you can slyly drop into the drinks of beautiful women when they are not looking.

Whoo hoo indeed.  That was sharp thinking of you to trademark that clever slogan.  This is by far the most impressively designed advertisement I've seen yet.  It must have taken 5... 6 minutes easily on MS Paint to come up with this rich visual gem.

Hey!  Single... MINGLE!  That rhymes!  Guh!

Amy smile for ME?

No thank you.  I get annoyed enough by the lady who is always standing in front of the supermarket with a clipboard.  Seriously, who is SO bored on Myspace that they would willingly participate in a survey that they know nothing about for no type of reward?  And while I'm at it, who is SO bored on Myspace that they would write a blog about stupid banner ads?  Oh wait....

If this is a conversation, it is the most boring and uninformative one I have ever had.  What a horrible anti-drug campaign they have going right now.  Remember "Just Say No"?  Now that was a straight-forward slogan that got its point across.  "Time to Talk"?!  What the heck does that mean?  I think it would be much more effective if the slogan was something like "Time to Stop Snorting Coke on the Playground, Jimmy".  Now that's a clear message for a drug-free America.

Remember those aliens from the later crappier Star Trek shows called Cardassians that had the super fucked-up veiny neck muscles?  No?  Well anyways, this lady's their queen.  She looks like she has scoliosis too.  (I wonder if there's a "MuslimMingle.com" out there.  So many sexy possibilities.)

Check out our Wintry Christmas Decor!  Just in time for April!

I love the expression on this guy's face.

That's no woman.  THAT'S A MAN WITH COLORFUL EYELASHES!

Hi.  I have shirt with a shitty vehicle printed on it.  I think I look hip, and thus my cocky smile.  Somebody please beat the fuck out of me.  I'm totally asking for it.  Did I mention that I design highly fashionable clothing?

Britney: Nutritionist

Dina: Interior Designer

Lillian: Photographer

Esmerelda: Apparently... some sort of professional pirate wench.

Driving without a license plate is illegal... and so is this insurance company no doubt.

That's great news!  Now why don't you slide back over into the driver's seat, put on your safety belt, and watch where you're going before you broadside ANOTHER schoolbus?

Oops! I slipped and fell and I think I gave myself a mild concussion.  Everything is brown!  LOL!!!

Well this has been oodles of fun, but I'm tired of this now.  G'night!

I just got done watching the very last episode of "Twin Peaks".  It was a good run and I liked the series a lot, but I am disappointed that the series ended unfinished on a shadowy cliffhanger.  I’m guessing that David Lynch meant there to be a Season 3, but CBS pulled the plug on it.  Ah well.  In a way, it’s kind of comforting to think of the people in the Twin Peaks Universe still locked in a constant struggle of the sinister and surreal.

ABOVE:  Twin Peaks: Still crazy after all these years!

Watching this series has reminded me that I have still yet to see "Eraserhead", which is I believe Lynch’s earliest film and I am guessing will be equally weird and entertaining.

In other news, I ate a can of lime beans with my post-hike steak dinner on Sunday night.  I realized that I had not eaten a single lima bean since I was probably 8 years old, so I wondered if my more mature taste buds would be able to stomach them now.  And I must say that lima beans are actually quite tasty and apparently a good source of fiber.  So hooray for lima beans!

ABOVE:  Nature’s candy

Tonight, I start my "Wildnerness Trekking Survival" class with the Colorado Mountain Club.  It’s a series of evening lectures and weekend hiking trips where we get taught to use a map & compass, learn first-aid, wrestle wild javelinas, and construct our own frontier forts.  Sort of like a crash-Boy Scout course for adults I guess.  Not really sure exactly what everything I’ll be learning will be, but it seems like fun.

ABOVE:  I will learn to build one of these shelters while blindfolded.

Lately, I’ve been reading a book on the history of Colorado.  Pretty interesting so far.  For example, I learned that the Colorado gold prospectors were called ’58ers, as opposed to California’s ’49ers, who apparently got a 9-year head start on the gold rush.  ’58er just doesn’t have as nice of a ring to it as ’49er, does it?  Ah well.

I’ve been keeping up the hiking on me own still, doing Horsetooth Rock and Roxborough State Park last weekend.  Good times were had by all (me).  It’s a good feeling to have sore legs when I walk into the office on Monday; it makes sitting at a desk during the work-week much more tolerable!  ... well, that and podcasts!

A new "Smodcast" finally got released by Kevin Smith and Scott Mosier this week, which made me happy, as that is quite a funny audio program.  I also discovered a popular Podcast called "Keith and the Girl" recently, that often provides much humor for me in my regular working day.  I highly recommend you Google these shows and check them out sometime.

Alright, that’s all I got now.  Why do I keep writing stuff on this blog anyways?  Me so silly!

WARNING: Thar be SPOILERS here!

So I finally decided to watch the TV phenomenon that was all the rage like a decade or two ago: Twin Peaks.  Yup, bought the entire series on DVD.  I never watched a single episode of this until about 2 weeks ago.  I’m still watching it now, but I’ve gotten past the murder-mystery portion of the series and now it’s getting all weird like X-files or something.

ABOVE:  Laura Palmer from her more lively days.

So the first 15 episodes basically have you guessing the answer to the question "Who killed Laura Palmer?"  I decided to write down my guess at the end of every episode to see how my TV detective skills were.  So without further ado, here is my list of guesses in consecutive order as to who killed Laura Palmer:

1.) Donna

2.) Agent Cooper

3.) Audrey

4.) Audrey

5.) James

6.) Donna

7.) Maddy

8.) Ronette Polaski

9.) Maddy

10.) Deputy Hawk

11.) Josie

12.) Maddy

13.) Maddy

14.) Leland

15.) (The murderer is revealed to be Leland)

As you can see, I was pretty much as "ice-cold" on my guesses as I could get until almost the very end.  I guess I managed to save SOME face by finally guessing it one episode early, but still that’s pretty sad.  Taking my guesses as a whole, Maddy was the one that I seemed to be leaning toward the most.  I had some sort of feeling that there would be a twist that Maddy was actually Laura and the real Maddy was killed in Laura’s place by Laura and yadda yadda yadda...  I was so sure that the identical twins tied into the title "Twin Peaks" that it just had to be Maddy who did it somehow.  But... no, I was completely wrong.  It really hammered the point home when Maddy ended up getting murdered too.  Ah well.

As a series, I am nevertheless liking Twin Peaks.  It’s got that overall weird David Lynch feel to it... the 1950’s idealism mixed in with all sorts of dark creepiness and random bizarre stuff thrown in.  It’s entertaining.  I still have about a dozen episodes to watch through, but it looks like aliens have just been introduced into the story now.  Who knows where this stuff is going to end up?  Good stuff!

ABOVE:  Hey, a backwards-dancing midget!  Cool!!!

I’m starting to get damn sick of running into idiot disciples of "The Mystery Method".  I’ll try to enjoy a relaxing drink at a bar with some friends, when some drunk asshole stumbles up to the table and says that he wants to show us a magic trick... then is too drunk to actually DO the magic trick, but nevertheless decides to hang around our table for another 15 minutes anyways trying to engage in flirtacious conversations with the women.  If this has happened to you recently, you too are a victim of some moron who believes in "The Mystery Method".

ABOVE:  Cover design inspired by mudflaps

For those of you who do not know, "The Mystery Method" is a guidebook on how to pick up women that was written by some creepy douchebag who actually goes by the name "Mystery".  From what I have been told, Mystery became famous after being on a TV reality show called "The Pick-Up Artist"  (I think), in which guys compete in random bars and restaurants to get as many phone numbers from women and whatnot.  So I guess the grand-champion of this reality show was Mystery, and so since he thought he was hot shit, he decided to write his own how-to book.  Here is a picture of him that I randomly found on the web:

ABOVE:  Mystery practices tongue-kissing on his fists.

As you can see, he just looks like some one who deserves a beating.  In his book, he describes doing all sorts of "ice-breaking" activities (such as magic tricks) in order to randomly walk up to groups of random people and totally score with every chick in a 50-mile radius.  He claims that alternatively acting like an annoying flambouyant asshole and then apathetically, will automatically make you some sort of irresistable super-stud to the chicas.  He also justifies his techniques with some of the most bullshit "scientific" explanations that I have ever heard.

OKAY, so at this point in my blog I have to pause to try and save face here.  ...Because obviously, you’re reading this and thinking "Shit Ben, you actually purchased and read this book?"  Let me assure you that the answer is a resounding "NO!"  I received the audio-version of this book as a gift from a friend of mine last Christmas and I listened to it during a long road-trip.  So there!  (Okay, I’ll admit that you’re kind of a loser anyway if your friends start buying you audio-dating-guidebooks in the first place... but still I have a little pride in not buying it myself.)

And honestly, when I was listening to this thing, I kept thinking to myself things such as "No, that would never work!" and "A woman would totally kick me in the nuts if I tried doing that!"; it seemed more like a novelty book to me if anything and not to be taken seriously.  But then lo and behold, I run into guys who try to apply this bullshit exactly as instructed in the book.  They quote passages from it verbatim.  It’s shocking that so many desperate guys lack the basic common sense to see this crap for the bullshit it is.  The only women who this stuff will actually work on are the ones who would probably have sex with you for money anyways, so what’s the point?

At any rate, the next time some random asshole tries to do magic tricks or talk about "IOI’s" to you or your friends, just let him know that you are aware he is trying to mimic "The Mystery Method" and that he is a moron for doing so.  Seriously, I have seen WAY too many idiots lately trying this stupid shit out in public. 

So in conclusion: 

Ladies: Beware the Mystery Method!  Fellow Lonely/Desperate Guys: Please don’t do this crap or you will eventually get the crap kicked out of you.

Finally, enjoy this hilarious short movie starring Paul Rudd and David Wain that makes fun of the Mystery Method:

http://www.mydamnchannel.com/Wainy_Days/Season_2/16ThePickup_494.aspx

I've been to enough places by now to have heard many times a phrase that goes like this:

"Well we have a little saying 'round these parts:  If you don't like the weather, then stick around for another five minutes!  Hyuk, hyuk!"

I have startling news for you people:  EVERYONE in virtually every part of the country makes this same wacky joke about the region in which they live.  It's not unique, so please stop saying it. 

In any area where the weather occasionally changes (which is everywhere) this colorful phrase is used.  I've even heard people use this line in Fresno for crying out loud, which probably has the most mundane, unchanging weather in the nation. 

I will grant that Colorado definitely has some of the most extreme weather ranges that I've ever experienced.  Two weeks ago, I was out hiking in short sleeves and it was bright, sunny, and 75 degrees.  The very next day it was 20 degrees and snowed heavily all day.  In my book, that's quite an impressive meterological spectrum for spanning a mere weekend.

But seriously, don't use that phrase anymore, for I am tired of hearing it.  Thank you for your consideration and good evening.

I have good news!  After watching the first part of the DVD set of seasons 1 & 2 of "Perfect Strangers", I have come to the conclusion that the show has withstood the test of time and is still quite funny.  Those two guys are totally n the low-brow comedy zone.  I swear, their facial expression abilities alone are so great that you could watch this show without any sound and it would still be hilariously entertaining.

If you remember enjoying this show as a kid, then I am telling you now that it is still just as enjoyable as you may recall.  If you have never seen this show before, then there's no time like the present to introduce yourself to it.  Hell, if you have kids of your own now, introduce them to it... it's 100% clean non-vulgar humor, after all.  Why are you still reading this?  Go out and buy, rent, or burn an illegal copy of "Perfect Strangers: Season 1 & 2" today!  You will be so happy, you'll do the Dance of Joy!

Hi.  Just wanted to let you know that I have officially given up on my "Write-a-story-a-day" project for the season of Lent. 

My excuse:  I went on this big long hike on Sunday and when I got home, I went straight to sleep from exhaustion.  Then the next day I was sick and also went to sleep early.  And then on the following day, I needed to write 3 stories in order to catch up and had a huge case of writer's block.  That's when I gave up.  So anyways, sorry but my Lent story project is an official failure.  I had a lot of premises in my head (such as a zombie outbreak on an airplane-- that would've been a sweet story), but just couldn't get them from my head into written narrative form.  Ah well.

Fortunately, I ALSO decided to give up hamburgers for Lent as a back-up, and I'm still sticking to that sacrifice throughout the whole 40 days, so hopefully that will redeem me.  After all, Lent's supposed to be more about giving up stuff you like, rather than creating new things, right?  Right!

ABOVE:  Plan "B"

Ice Man

Wlfric crouched silently in the thick brown underbrush of the pine forest beside the forest road, his bow at the ready.  He chewed a piece of dry wheat stalk that did little to satisfy his hunger.  Somewhere in the brush to his left, a twig snapped.  One of Wlfric's companions was shifting his hiding position and causing unnecessary noise.  Wlfric spat onto the earth.  The forest was silent again.

Soon, more snapping of twigs and crunching of dry leaves were heard farther away down the road.  Yes, some one was approaching.  There were no voices to be heard, but the footfalls sounded closer and closer.  It sounded to be two… or no more than three roadside travelers.  Another minute later, and the walkers of the road came into view.  There were two of them:  a tall red-haired man with a long red beard, carrying a large bundle of chopped wood across his broad back, and a younger boy of about 15, presumably the larger man's son, who also carried a bundle of wood on his back, be it a smaller one.  A few straggling wanderers from the village no doubt.  Perhaps they ventured deep into the forest in search of game, but finding none resolved to at least return home with some firewood.  But these two would not be completing their journey home.

Every muscle in Wlfric's body was tensed as he silently drew back his bow.  The man and the boy had now already walked past a few of the hiding spots of his fellow raiders and were now fully enclosed in their snare.  The time was good to strike.  Wlfric let his bone-tipped arrow fly, hitting the large man in the collarbone.  The large man twisted backwards in surprise, dropping his load of wood.  Almost at the same time, another of the hidden archers let fly an arrow that struck the wide-eyed youth square in his throat.  The boy also dropped his load of wood and clutched frantically at his throat, which was now foaming with blood.

The large man drew a crude copper axe from his belt and looked over at his scared and dying companion; most likely his son.  The large man, though wounded, screamed in a battle-crazed rage and whirled around ready to charge into the forest at his unseen attackers to seek revenge…. But already 4 other raiders armed with axes had charged out of the forest towards the two victims; two from ahead, and two from behind.  A third arrow hit the large man in his lower leg, just as two of the axemen struck at him.

The large wounded man, now seeming to be like that of an angry wounded bear, managed to deflect the first two blows.  He roared with rage and struck out with his own axe, managing to knock one of the raiders backwards briefly. 

Meanwhile, the two other axemen had run up the road from behind and finished off the still-standing boy with a couple of well-placed blows.  These two had now run forward an each drove their axeheads into the large man's back, nearly simultaneously.  The large man paused in shock, and his axe fell to the ground.  He was suddenly very silent, then he dropped down to his knees, his eyes looking upwards to the gray autumn sky.  And then another axe fell across the large man's head, splitting the skull, and causing the man to fall down dead. 

Wlfric watched all of this from his hiding spot, but now the fight was over.

Wlfric stood up and emerged from the forest onto the road, as did the dozen other raiders who had chosen to remain hidden.  These travelers had never stood a chance of escaping.

Brief words of congratulations were exchanged to the raiders who had fought, including Wlfric for his accurate arrow shot, but celebration was subdued.  After all, this had not been a glorious battle with heaps of won spoils; this had been the quick slaughter of a couple of peasants who had strayed too far from the weak protection of the village.  The bodies were searched and the possessions divided up.  One man received the axe of the large man, another took a pouch of what seemed to be goatsmilk, another the boy's boots, another the man's fur vest, and so on until the meager supplies were divided up among the raiders.  Wlfric himself took a pouch of medicinal herbs and mushrooms that had hung from the boy's belt.  Yes, these may be useful in the raids to come.  Another archer took the few arrows that had been in the large man's quiver, but Wlfric was content to retrieve the bone arrows from the victims' bodies.  One arrow was broken, but the other two were still intact and were dropped into Wlfric's own leather quiver.

"This man was a good fighter," said one of the raiders,  "and perhaps the boy was too.  It is good that we killed them on the road and did not allow them to return to the village."  Wlfric silently nodded.  Yes, it was good.  When his group would raid the village the next day, it will be good not to have to fight these two then.

The weather was beginning to chill, and a famine had set across this land.  People starved in vast areas.  Entire fields of crops had been devoured by beetles.  Entire flocks of sheep and goats dropped dead from disease.  The world was not smiling upon this land for this season.  The gods were angry for some cursed reason.  Starving farmers were forced to take up weapons, hungry shepherds, such as Wlfric had been, had taken up their bows and arrows and come down from the mountains.  Raiding groups such as this one were formed out of desperation, so that survival could be held onto at the expense of the farmers and shepherds who had been more successful; who had wisely stored up their food stores and riches, or who had happened to live in areas that had not been affected as badly by the agricultural pestilence.

This particular group of raiders had successfully been plundering small settlements for several months now.  Moving gradually southwards, they had struck down traveling parties and cut their way into farming communities.  They had fought like desperate beasts at first, but soon became skilled warriors.  They feasted, they drank, the lived.  Only two had died in battle.  They were becoming a feared group in the land.  And now tomorrow, they would strike at their largest prize yet.  The village was made up of about ten houses with sheep-pens and vegetable gardens and perhaps forty people in total; half of those people would be women and children.  The raiding party was sixteen men strong, still driven by hunger and glory, but also now experienced in a good deal of fighting.  It would be a glorious raid and provide the raiding men with a base to last out the winter, stocked with plenty of food and women for all.  Yes, tomorrow would be their greatest day of glory yet! 

Wlfric and his party continued down the road seeing no signs of other travelers.  Eventually, they could see wisps of smoke in the sky ahead, indicating the cooking fires of the village several miles away.  The raiders moved off the road into the forest once more, where they set up a well-concealed campsite for the night.  No fires were lit.<SPAN style="mso-spacerun: yes">  They would attack at dawn's first light.

* * *

The village was weak.  Most of its residents were still asleep in their beds.  The warriors must strike swiftly and crash onto the settlement like a wave of the cold sea.  Thus, they charged straight down the forest road into the village, rather than slowly making their hidden way through the forest and encircling the village; there was no need for such stealth.  Though they did not roar in a unified battle-cry; they still tried to be as quiet as possible still while maximizing their speed as they jogged down into the village.

The low stone houses with thatched roofs now came into view ahead.  The raiders all unsheathed their daggers and axes, including Wlfric; there would be no need for bows and arrows in this close-quartered fight.  There were no villagers walking around yet… not even a village-watch.  The fools would pay for their lack of security!  With luck, every fighting man would be struck down in his bed before even waking!

The raiding party entered the boundary of the village now; the area cleared of forest and brush.  They charged forward to the village's center, at which point they would suddenly divide their group and spoke outwards, attacking each house at the same time in pairs, again maximizing speed and surprise.  Yes, it was good that the two were killed on the road yesterday before they would be missed….

Before the raiding group reached the center of the village, a sudden chorus of yells erupted behind them.  The yells were not their own.  The raiders slowed their running and began to look over their shoulders just as a flurry of arrows struck the rearmost men in their backs.  Several dropped dead instantly, while others writhed in shock and pain.  Wlfric was unharmed.  He whirled around to see men charging out of the forest behind them, from either side of the forest road from which the raiders had entered the village.  "We had run past hidden warriors into a trap!" thought Wlfric. 

A second flurry of arrows erupted from hidden archers in the forest, and this time Wlfric was hit by an arrow in his shoulder, causing him to gasp in pain.  The defenders who were armed with swords and axes continued to run towards Wlfric and what was left of his raiding party.  Some of the raiders attempted to run through the village in order to flee into the forest on the far side, but here too hidden defenders were emerging from the forest.  Chaos was all around. 

Wlfric ran behind one of the houses for temporary cover from the arrows.  As he painfully broke off the shaft of the arrow protruding from his shoulder, he watched as his fellow raiders fought the defending warriors.  They were fighting in their element: that of desperation.  Wlfric watched one raider swing his axe through the air at carve large wounds in the torsos of two village defenders at once, before being cut down himself by a swordsman.  Another raider held four men a bay with only his copper dagger, before finally being overwhelmed by the numbers and brutally cut down with hatchets and clubs.

There were more defending men than the raiders had expected.  This village must have hired another band of hungry warriors to help defend their village.  Perhaps Wlfric's raiding group had grown into too much notoriety; villages were now alert and watching for them, preparing for their arrival.  News spread surprisingly quick across this land from survivors as they fled from settlement to settlement.  Now the fame of this raiding party had caught up with them and they were undone.  Wlfric must flee himself if he wished to live.

Still shielded from view of the defenders by the houses, Wlfric dashed towards what seemed to be a still quiet edge of town, the edge closest to the rocky hillside.  No hidden warriors emerged from the forest boulders here.  Perhaps this could be his escape route.  He would have to climb upwards, but he still felt strong in spite of his arrow wound. 

He looked once more behind him back into the village and saw that he was being followed; not by a defending warrior though, but by one of his wounded companions who was also trying to escape the fray.  The raider had a bloody gash cut across his side, but he still ran forward at a desperate pace.  He saw Wlfric standing at the forest's edge, and held his hand out as he ran forward, silently giving a plea for aid.  Wlfric's honor caused him to run forward and support his comrade by throwing his arm over his own shoulder.  They turned and jogged into the forested hillside.

Only a few steps into the evergreen canvas however, Wlfric heard running footsteps behind him.  A pursuing defender, or another fleeing friend?  With the wounded comrade being supported on his shoulder, he could not whirl around to look behind him quickly enough.  There was suddenly a shout, and then a grunt.  The wounded man across Wlfric's shoulder shuddered.  Wlfric looked down at his wounded companion to see a swordtip protruding from the front of his chest.  He was dead.

Wlfric let the raider's corpse fall to the ground and turned to face the pursuing village defender who had killed him.  The blood-crazed warrior had gotten his sword stuck so deeply into the raider's body, that he now drew a dagger from his belt before lunging at Wlfric.  Wlfric had his own knife drawn and deflected the warrior's initial blow.  But the enemy was quick to strike again; slicing a deep cut across Wlfric's hand.

Wlfric screamed in pain, and suddenly felt a renewed surge of anger and adrenaline.  Now it was his turn to be the angry wounded bear.  He blindly ran straight at his opponent, successfully driving his knife deep into the man's cheek, before slicing the blade back out from the man's face.  The defending warrior paused for just a second in the shock of the horrible pain, and that was all the time Wlfric needed to back his blade back across the man's throat, finishing the fight.

The warrior's gurgling body fell to the forest floor and rolled a bit back down the hillside.  Wlfric breathed in and breathed out one time.  Then there were more yells and Wlfric saw more warriors charging into the forest up the hill towards him.  There were too many to fight.  Evidently, the last of Wlfric's raiding party had been cut down in the village, and the remaining defenders were now focused on hunting down Wlfric.  He turned and ran up the hillside with all of the desperation that he had left in his soul.

He zig-zagged his way in and out of boulders and behind the thick trunks of evergreens.  He climbed for hours, not allowing a moment's rest if he was to survive.  He had been doing his best to lose his pursuers, but every so often he would look back to see one of them shouting to his companions in order to inform them of Wlfric's location.  There were too many of them, and they knew that Wlfric had only one possible direction he could flee: further up the hill and into the snowy mountains.

To his credit, Wlfric did seem to be increasing the distance between him and his hunters little by little… but an incredible fatigue was now setting in, exacerbated by his wounds and the continuing lack of food.  But he had to keep moving, to keep climbing upwards, for he knew that his enemies would not give up pursuit until he was dead.  A bit of luck showed him an old goat path that made his upwards climb a little easier.  The trees were now falling back, and Wlfric was reaching the exposed rocky slopes of the cold mountains.  It would now be harder to hide.  Speed would be his only possible advantage.

He ran around jagged boulders, trying to avoid snowy patches where his tracks would be noticed.  He indulged now in brief rests to catch his breath and to look back to see his pursuers, which now thankfully looked more like faint black specks, still advancing, but nevertheless farther behind him than they had been. 

Wlfric ran on over the mountain ridges.  Daylight was quickly departing and Wlfric's legs and lungs screamed in protest of any more exertion.  Wlfric could no longer spot his pursuers and he needed to rest.  He scrambled over yet one more rocky ridge and looked down into a valley below where a vast white glacier gleamed in the twilight.  He found a cluster of granite boulders and found a sheltered area within them.  He could rest here for part of the night, being sheltered by wind and from the sight of his hunters.  Yes, he could regain his strength, wake before dawn, and continue to increase the distance from his pursuers, gradually making his way back down from the mountains.  He could then nurse his wounds in another hidden forest and travel by night, stealing food where he could, until reaching a land where his raiding career would not be as infamous.  "Yes," Wlfric thought, "it will be good."  He crawled into the hollow cradle of two boulders and went into the deepest sleep he had ever known.

Wlfric slept far later than he had intended.  His body needed sleep much more desperately than he knew.  He slept all night in the barren landscape, and he slept all morning, well into daylight.  He needed the rest.  He did not notice the sounds of his enemies as they approached his hiding spot, nor did he notice their sounds of excitement when they discovered his sleeping body.  Wlfric was locked into a deep magical sleep brought on by the mountain air.  It was a cool gentleness that removed all cares from his subconscious mind.  He was dreaming too; dreaming of green grassy hillsides covered in wildflowers in the warm summer sun.  He was living his old shepherd life again… when he had a belly full of mutton… when the crops of his village still thrived… before his parents and his woman had died of starvation and malnutrition, and he had been forced to wander away…. All was as it had been once more.  In the beautiful cycle of life, Wlfric had traveled through wastelands to arrive at his homelands once more.

The warriors stood in a semi-circle around the sleeping figure of the last surviving raider.  The warrior who had discovered the raider's hiding place was given a nod by the chieftain, giving him the honor of making the kill.  He raised his copper mace high above his head, before crashing it down upon the raider's head.  The man died without ever having woken up.  His broken body was thrown down the far side of the mountain, and the warriors began their journey back to the village, where there would be large roaring fires and much feasting.

The End

The Odds

            The pilot drowsily watched the stars as they hung fixed in front of the glass windshield.  Another 48 hours to go before his cargo shuttle reached the Martian space station to deliver the standard supply of precious water, oxygen, and dehydrated food to the resident crew of scientists and engineers. 

The pilot's name was Andrew Marx, and this was his third delivery run out to the red planet.  Sure, his job was essentially that of a delivery man rather than the more glamorous duty of vanguard space explorer, but even so, space travel was still a risky business reserved for a very few number of select individuals, so he was still happy with the fact that he was an official astronaut… in spite of the monotony of these delivery trips.

The stuffed leather chair was beginning to feel a bit too comfortable and Marx briefly considered allowing himself to doze off before his shift ended in about a half an hour.  After all, the only reason NASA required a crew member to be constantly stationed in the cockpit at all was to compensate for the very slightest risk that an immediate evasive maneuver may become necessary should an unexpected asteroid float into the shuttle's flight path.  But Marx thought better of it and tried to shake the increasing sleepiness out of his mind.  He refocused his vision out at the space ahead of him.

The planet Mars glowed as a red sphere straight ahead, appearing the size of a softball.  It appeared bright, yet still.  Marx fixed his attention on the red planet; his halfway point.  They would soon dock at the orbiting space station in the not-too-distant future, transfer their cargo, and then be on their merry way back to Earth once more.  He sighed at the minimal landscape ahead of him… but then a small movement caught his eye; a motion on the surface of Mars, it seemed—like a dark, fast-moving cloud on the planet's surface.

Marx sat up straighter in the pilot's seat, suddenly awake.  Was there some gigantic climate event suddenly happening on Mars?  It would be a monumental storm system indeed if Marx could see it moving with his naked eye!  In fact, such a storm would indicate a planet-wide catastrophe!  Immediately, Marx's imagination surged into fantasies of a Martian apocalypse, with titanic volcanoes and perhaps meteors the size of continents.  Then his thoughts immediately wondered if the crew of the space station was still safe….

But then these fantastic thoughts were wiped from his mind as he noticed that the movement he was seeing was not from the surface of Mars itself… rather, the shadow he was seeing was from a much closer moving object in space; backlit and much closer than the planet itself.  Could it be an asteroid?!  Were the slim possibilities of a mid-space collision actually working against the odds?  Marx now sat up bolt upright, ready to swerve the shuttle to the right or left.  He looked at the small radar screen on his console.  Nothing was detected!  No mass larger than a baseball was present anywhere ahead of him.  So was what he was seeing not an asteroid?  What then, could it have been?

He glanced up again out of the shuttle's front window just in time to see the last thing he would have expected to see in outer space…. the object floating in space towards the shuttle.  Now it was no longer merely backlit from the ambient light of planet Mars; now the fore lights of the shuttle illuminated it clearly….

A single red rose floated in the space ahead of the shuttle.  Marx had only a second to see it in front of him, but surely it was there: a red rose gently somersaulting in the zero-gravity of space.  It looked to be freshly cut and fully blossomed; the most delicate thing in thousands of miles anywhere in space around it.  He gasped in both awe and astonishment.

And then the rose shattered into a million crystalline fragments as it collided with the outside of the front window.  Marx marveled as the red and green fragments, which looked like snowflakes he thought, floated out and around the fast-moving space shuttle, before completely disappearing and were gone completely.

Marx flopped back into his chair and stared and breathed, taking in what he had just seen.  Had he really seen what he though he had seen?  Perhaps his fatigue was wearing on him and he was beginning to hallucinate.  He fingered the console's intercom button to the co-pilot's bunk.

"Joel?" Marx asked.  A second later, a groggy voice responded.

"Yeah, what?"

"I just saw something weird up here… I think I may need to be relieved early."

A pause and an exhalation of air, then "Alright, I'll be up in a minute."

Joel soon came up into the cockpit, still groggy.  "Well?" he yawned, "What was it?  What'd you see?"

Marx answered simply, "A rose"

"What's that?"

"A rose… floating in space"

"You mean like a rose… the flower: rose?"

"Yeah.  It was floating ahead of the shuttle and then hit the front glass and broke apart and then it was gone."

"You're shitting me."

"No… it was really there.  At least I think so.  But then again, maybe I'm getting over-tired and just need to be relieved."

"Did you check the forward cam?"

Marx stopped for a minute and then laughed, "Of course!  I forgot about the forward cam!  I guess that would settle it in a hurry if I'm seeing thing or not!"

Joel nodded casually, "Yep.  Maybe you are getting too groggy to be on duty up here.  Well, let's check it out anyways."

Joel leaned over and punched the buttons to bring up the recent auto-archives of the forward shuttle camera, then he and Marx both looked over at the small console monitor.  They watched the straight-ahead camera shot of the planet Mars… then a flicker of shadow appeared, then the shadow came closer… and closer… and then the camera clearly revealed a red rose floating in space; just as Marx had seen.  Joel's jaw dropped as the image continued to show the rose once again disintegrate as it collided with the front glass.

"Holy shit…." said Marx, doubly bewildered.  "I wasn't just seeing things."

"Yeah," said a dumbfounded Joel.  "I see it too.  That's definitely a rose… out in space."  A pause, and then "I guess the cold vacuum of space basically froze it to the point where it was so delicate that the slightest breeze would've knocked it apart."

"What the hell was a rose doing floating out in space?" exclaimed Marx.

"I don't know…."

"Could it have come from another shuttle trip?"

Joel sighed and slumped into the co-pilot's chair.  "I never heard of any astronauts carrying flowers on board and then jettisoning them halfway to Mars.  …and even IF some one threw a rose out into space on an earlier shuttle flight… do you have any idea what the odds would be that a later shuttle would ever even SEE that flower… let along collide with it?"

Marx shook his head slowly, still staring out the window.  "No one would throw a rose out into deep space… but then… what other explanation is there?"

"Do you think the scientists on the space station could have done it?"

"I doubt it.  We can ask them when we reach the station… but then again, even IF the scientists flung a rose out into space from the station … how did it just happen to hit our shuttle?"

"I don't know…." said Joel, "maybe it was intentional.  Maybe the scientists had a bet or an experiment that they could hit our ship with a rose from the space station?  It's kind of a poetic idea."

"I don't believe that scientists would put forth the effort to do such a frivolous thing.  It doesn't make sense."  Marx was still staring vacantly into space as he spoke.

Joel nodded again, "Yeah, I suppose you're right….  Do you think we should wake up the doctor and see what he thinks?"

"Nah… he's just a medical doctor anyway.  He probably won't have much more to contribute to our random ideas than we have; best to let him sleep 'til we reach our destination.  We can always ask for his theories then."

"Yeah alright," Joel replied.  Another pause, and then, "Well anyways… you might as well turn in.  I can start my shift another hour early."

"Thanks Joel.  Sorry about waking you up early."

Joel smirked, "You kidding?  This is the most excitement I've ever had on one of these space trips!"

Marx gingerly got up from his seat and made his way back down the corridor through the side-hatch to his bunk.  He lay down and stared at the curved metal ceiling above him.

A real red rose floating in space?  What were the odds?  What were the odds?

The End

PiggyWiggyBigButtFace

In a small rural town there lived a quiet little 10-year-old boy who did not have many friends.  Actually, not only did he not have any friends, but he instead had enemies… quite a few enemies… in fact, every other boy in town was his enemy.

Every other boy in town was bigger than the boy, and so at first they called him "Runt".  Then they noticed that he also talked in a funny way, so "Runt" became "Grunt".  Later, the other boys noticed that he also smelled odd, so "Grunt" then became "Smelly Grunt".  "Smelly Grunt" eventually evolved into "Sick Ugly", then "Sicko Grosspants", "Grossy McPoopSqueak", "Fartface", "Poo-licker", "Smelly Grandma-Puncher", "Bignose Idiotface", "Urine-brain Doodle-butt", and finally… the other boys settled on calling him "PiggyWiggyBigButtFace".

PiggyWiggyBigButtFace was always sad.  He had never done anything to merit the cruelty of the other boys in town.  He always tried to stay out of everyone's way, and not be a problem.  But for some reason, all the other boys hated him nonetheless and made his life miserable.

At first when the bigger boys called him "PiggyWiggyBigButtFace", he would try to correct them and plead that they call him by his real name that his parents had given him.  But he soon learned that this attempted correction would only result in him getting beat up.  He did not like being beat up; the bloody noses, the bruised ribs, the black eyes… no, he quickly realized that he did not like being beat up one bit.  And so, he relented to being known from then on as PiggyWiggyBigButtFace. 

Eventually, all the kids at school came to know the boy as PiggyWiggyBigButtFace.  And not just the bigger boys either; all the girls too… and the younger children… and finally even his teachers came to know and address him as PiggyWiggyBigButtFace.  It wasn't long before everyone in town called him by his new name.  And every afternoon after school, PiggyWiggyBigButtFace would run home to his bedroom and cry and cry and cry.

The years passed by.  All the boys in PiggyWiggyBigButtFace's class grew up and went into middle school, and then high school.  And even still throughout this time, PiggyWiggyBigButtFace was stuck with his horrible name.  By the time he was fifteen years old, PiggyWiggyBigButtFace had gotten so used to his cruel moniker, that he had forgotten what his old name was.  This made him even more depressed.

At the end of high school, when PiggyWiggyBigButtFace was 18, he attended his grand graduation ceremony, went up on stage (accompanied by many cruel hoots and hollers), and received his diploma, which had printed across its marbled paper in computer-generated calligraphy: "PiggyWiggyBigButtFace".  He walked back down to his chair with his head hung low.  Sitting down, he quietly wondered if his 10-year-old self would have ever thought that by the time he grew up, he would've had the name "PiggyWiggyBigButtFace".  The other boys with normal names continued to run up to the stage to get their diplomas and high-fived each other as they ran back down to their respective seats.

Finally, after all of the graduates had received their diplomas and had once again taken their seats, it was time for the keynote speaker to give his speech.  The speaker was introduced as General MacDowney of the Global Universalist Army.  A large man in a bright red uniform festooned with gleaming gold medals approached the microphone.  His voice was gruff, yet crisp with years of military discipline:

"Young graduates," General MacDowney began, "I heartily congratulate you on the completion of your federally-mandated education.  You have walked a long path through our national education system, and have performed admirably."  He paused and lifted his head high for dramatic effect before continuing, "But now… now it is time for some of you… most of you… nearly all of you… to give back to the country that has so graciously offered you your free educational career.  As you all know, we are in the midst of fighting a fierce and terrible war against the radioactive and evil nation of Zwanzistan, and to be perfectly forward, we need soldiers… we need YOU!"  He pointed out with a white-gloved hand to the wide-eyed crowd of graduates as he said this last sentence.

"Yes," he said nodded solemnly, "as of today, we have no choice but to reinstate the partial draft.  As law dictates, some of you… most of you… nearly all of you… will be immediately be chosen by lottery to serve as a soldier for a term no less than 10 years.  The lottery system that is to be used to decide who is drafted is up to my sole discretion, and so I believe that I have devised a fair and balanced lottery system…."  Every wide young eye was fixed in horror at the general.  "I will begin reciting every first name I can think of.  If your name happens to be one that I call, then congratulations and welcome to the Global Universalist Army!  Report immediately to the transport buses parked in the rear parking lot of this auditorium."

Every graduate in the hall shrunk in fear as General MacDowney began rattling off names: "John, Jack, Billy, Sally, Jane, Sidney, Alfred, Donald…."  Little by little crestfallen students stood up upon hearing their names called and marched silently to the exit doors.  With armed GUA Enforcers posted at every possible exit, there was no opportunity for escape attempts.

The General droned on, "…Larry, Summer, Pedro, Yancy, Kristoff, Sven, Muhammad, Darla, Lloyd, Chas, Bingo, Turby, Snickle, Kiki, Wolfgang, Penelope, Tigger, Randolph, Honey, Zippy, Jerome, Timothy…"

Hours rolled on as the auditorium silently emptied.  Finally, PiggyWiggyBigButtFace was the only graduate left in his seat.  The general continued to rattle off random names for another two hours, staring intently at the now smugly smiling PiggyWiggyBigButtFace, before finally sighing and giving up.

"You win, kid" said the general.  "You must have the most unique name on Earth!  Enjoy you civilian life!"

"I sure will", said PiggyWiggyBigButtFace, "I sure will!"

The End