Random Drabbles
Posted: Mon Feb 20, 2012 11:32 am
A drabble is a story in one hundred words.
If I think of one that I don't think belongs in a "set" like my others, I'll put them here.
-----
I wake up to the sound of chirping birds and a lovely naked woman with dark hair laying in my bed. I lean over and give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She smiles, and her eyes flutter open. “Good morning, dear.”
“Good morning, beautiful. How are you feeling?”
“Wonderful,” She curls up and closes her eyes again, going back to sleep.
I slip out of bed and out of Hanako’s bedroom. My wife is standing in the kitchen, making breakfast. “Good morning, dear,” Lilly says.
“Good morning, beautiful.” I embrace her from behind.
God bless whoever invented saishoudoukin.
-----
The other three bodyguards go for their guns when the first one goes down. Big mistake. Rule number 1: protect the client first. US Secret Service would have him out the door already. These yakuza goons stick around, try to fight.
Three quick headshots and they go down.
The target is staring up at me, face white in horror. I pull back the hair from the right side of my face. I let him see the real me. “I know you,” he whispers. “You’re Hanako the Black Rose. You’re Boss Matsumoto’s angel of death.”
One more headshot. Another successful mission.
-----
“We are Locutus of Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ships. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. WAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!”
I winced as the piercing voice of my former first officer, interpreting for my former captain, echoed through the ship’s bridge. “Mister Setou?” I hissed. “Fire.”
The torrent of blue-white energy erupting from the ship’s deflector shield impacted the cube-shaped spacecraft and did absolutely nothing. “Silly Hicchan!” the pink-haired Borg drone said, waving her finger admonishingly. “We know all about your plans through me and Shicchan. Resistance is futile!”
-----
“We're willing to wipe the slate clean, give you a fresh start,” the man in the black suit said. “All that we're asking in return is your cooperation in bringing a known terrorist to justice.”
“Yeah. Well, that sounds like a pretty good deal,” Shizune said. “But I think I may have a better one. How about, I give you the finger and you give me my phone call.”
“Miss Hakamichi. You disappoint me.”
“You can't scare me with this Gestapo crap,” Shizune scoffed. “I know my rights. I want my phone call.”
“Tell me, Miss Hakamichi,” the man said. . .
-----
She stands atop her mecha, the wind whipping through her long pink drills, the young man with the heart condition staring up at her in awe.
“Shicchan is dead!” Misha shouts. “She’s gone from this world. But here, in my heart, and here, on this flag, she lives on! If you’re going to laugh, laugh to the heavens! No matter what happens, I’ll never stop! If I can keep laughing, nothing can get me down!”
She points to the stunned blonde girl. “JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM! I’M NOT SHICCHAN’S INTERPRETER! I’M MISHA! MISHA THE WAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!”
-----
“So, how did you become legally blind, anyway?” Hisao asks me.
I think back to that day in the countryside: Love Machine running riot all over OZ, Natsuki (that feminist infiltrator!) playing the greatest game of Koi-Koi of all time, Kazuma punching the hell out of that mouse-faced AI. They told me I suffered a debilitating brain aneurism from the stress of solving three 2056-bit encryptions within ten minutes, which damaged my optic nerves. It didn’t matter. I’d saved the world.
“Natural causes,” I tell Hisao.
Real heroes don’t need to be recognized. We just live our lives in peace.
If I think of one that I don't think belongs in a "set" like my others, I'll put them here.
-----
I wake up to the sound of chirping birds and a lovely naked woman with dark hair laying in my bed. I lean over and give her a gentle kiss on the forehead. She smiles, and her eyes flutter open. “Good morning, dear.”
“Good morning, beautiful. How are you feeling?”
“Wonderful,” She curls up and closes her eyes again, going back to sleep.
I slip out of bed and out of Hanako’s bedroom. My wife is standing in the kitchen, making breakfast. “Good morning, dear,” Lilly says.
“Good morning, beautiful.” I embrace her from behind.
God bless whoever invented saishoudoukin.
-----
The other three bodyguards go for their guns when the first one goes down. Big mistake. Rule number 1: protect the client first. US Secret Service would have him out the door already. These yakuza goons stick around, try to fight.
Three quick headshots and they go down.
The target is staring up at me, face white in horror. I pull back the hair from the right side of my face. I let him see the real me. “I know you,” he whispers. “You’re Hanako the Black Rose. You’re Boss Matsumoto’s angel of death.”
One more headshot. Another successful mission.
-----
“We are Locutus of Borg. Lower your shields and surrender your ships. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. WAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!”
I winced as the piercing voice of my former first officer, interpreting for my former captain, echoed through the ship’s bridge. “Mister Setou?” I hissed. “Fire.”
The torrent of blue-white energy erupting from the ship’s deflector shield impacted the cube-shaped spacecraft and did absolutely nothing. “Silly Hicchan!” the pink-haired Borg drone said, waving her finger admonishingly. “We know all about your plans through me and Shicchan. Resistance is futile!”
-----
“We're willing to wipe the slate clean, give you a fresh start,” the man in the black suit said. “All that we're asking in return is your cooperation in bringing a known terrorist to justice.”
“Yeah. Well, that sounds like a pretty good deal,” Shizune said. “But I think I may have a better one. How about, I give you the finger and you give me my phone call.”
“Miss Hakamichi. You disappoint me.”
“You can't scare me with this Gestapo crap,” Shizune scoffed. “I know my rights. I want my phone call.”
“Tell me, Miss Hakamichi,” the man said. . .
-----
She stands atop her mecha, the wind whipping through her long pink drills, the young man with the heart condition staring up at her in awe.
“Shicchan is dead!” Misha shouts. “She’s gone from this world. But here, in my heart, and here, on this flag, she lives on! If you’re going to laugh, laugh to the heavens! No matter what happens, I’ll never stop! If I can keep laughing, nothing can get me down!”
She points to the stunned blonde girl. “JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM! I’M NOT SHICCHAN’S INTERPRETER! I’M MISHA! MISHA THE WAHAHAHAHAHAHA~!”
-----
“So, how did you become legally blind, anyway?” Hisao asks me.
I think back to that day in the countryside: Love Machine running riot all over OZ, Natsuki (that feminist infiltrator!) playing the greatest game of Koi-Koi of all time, Kazuma punching the hell out of that mouse-faced AI. They told me I suffered a debilitating brain aneurism from the stress of solving three 2056-bit encryptions within ten minutes, which damaged my optic nerves. It didn’t matter. I’d saved the world.
“Natural causes,” I tell Hisao.
Real heroes don’t need to be recognized. We just live our lives in peace.
