Sup Bogachevs

That's right I called you a Bogachev. Where are your witty comebacks now? Can't think of one, can ya? I knew that powerful insult would tongue tie you. Also, I'm doing the National Novel Writing Month thingy, over at nanowrimo.org they got all the info if you wanna start five days late. I've done this before and it's quite enjoyable, I'm putting The Cold Beak (the next thing I'm doing) on the backburper for a bit. Enjoy this thing I wrote last November about Stonewall Jackson:

SOLID GOLD STONEWALL

This story details the operatic saga of legendary civil war general Stonewall Jackson.
Sure, we've all heard of Fredericksburg and Antietam and Bull Run, but what happened to Stonewall Jackson AFTER the war between the states? Before this story, no one knew. But now I intend to draw back the curtain, to shed some light on this renowned, influential commander, as well as his storied final years.
Well, first things first, he became a cyborg. He couldn't handle the south's defeat, and decided to take matters into his own hands. He went over to Jefferson Davis' house one night, desperate for change.
"What've you got for me, Jeff?" he asked gruffly, taking a swig of whiskey. His dark, grizzled beard was tinged a faint red by the firelight of Davis' study.
The disgraced politician, leaning on the mantle, gazed into his fireplace, a bitter expression on his face. He'd been drinking. "Nothing." he said. "It's over, Jackson. Those damn Yanks have won. It's time to move on."
As he spoke these words, he could feel Stonewall's cold, piercing gaze on his back. "You know that's something I can't do." grunted the general.
Jefferson Davis sighed. He watched the fire dance for a moment, then said, "There is... something. But it's still in experimental stages."
Stonewall's dark eyes narrowed. "To the lab."
The former president nodded and pulled one of the candlesticks on the mantle. Like a lever it came down, and with a clank the fireplace swung outward, revealing a fluorescent-lit hallway. They took it to Jefferson Davis' secret lair, an amazing hidden laboratory filled with astonishing technology.
It was there that he made Stonewall Jackson, one of the south's most revered generals, into a cyborg.
When Stonewall Jackson awoke, he was made completely of gold. Gold arms and gold legs, gold hands and gold feet. Gold eyes and gold ears. A gold head with a gold brain, and a gold heart pumping liquid gold through his gold veins.
"I'm... I'm solid gold!" he exclaimed, looking himself over in a full-body mirror. "Is this what you would call... a cyborg?"
"Ah, not exactly." said Jefferson Davis. "Cyborgs are part robot and part human, and I assure you there isn't a drop of human left in your body."
"Then... then what am I?" asked Stonewall Jackson.
"A goldborg, Mr. Jackson." said Jefferson Davis coolly, sipping a fine wine. "A goldborg."
And so the reign of Solid Gold Stonewall began. He wiped out then-president Abe Lincoln with one punch in the face, then named himself Emperor of America. Nobody complained, for fear that they too would feel his wrath.
Drunk with power, he ruled America with an golden fist. Many assassins and insurgents rose to topple him, but all were crushed by his rippling golden musculature. Among these was his former leader and creator, Jefferson Davis. Everyone he defeated in battle he swallowed and digested, using their rich nutrients to fuel the golden gears that churned inside him.
Solid Gold Stonewall proceeded to invade Canada and Mexico, both nations falling feebly at his mighty golden feet. His army of gold-enhanced supermen breezed through South America to Antarctica, where he erected a 3000 foot radio tower, which would transmit gold beams across the entire planet. By New Year's Eve, everyone on earth would be slave to Stonewall.
However, just when Solid Gold Stonewall was celebrating in his colossal mansion with a glass of whiskey, the door to his study was rudely bashed in.
"WHO DARES?!" he roared, leaping out of his throne. A man and woman stood in his doorway.
"Hello, Solid Gold Stonewall." said the woman calmly.
The former general grinned evilly, revealing a row of golden teeth. "My personal congratulations on making it this far. It couldn't have been easy to disable my security drones. However, the journey ends here."
He fired a gold cannonball out of his mouth, and was shocked as it merely bounced off the man's face. He neither moved, nor blinked.
"It will take more than that to defeat us, Jackson." said the man.
The look of shock on Solid Gold Stonewall's face evaporated, replaced by a look of guarded curiosity. "Who are you people?"
Then, without warning, the woman fired a gold cannonball of her own! It took Solid Gold Stonewall by surprise, hitting him in the stomach and knocking him backwards into a shelf full of books.
"You're... you're goldborgs!" he gasped.
"Yes." said the man. The duo dropped their holograms, revealing their true, gleaming yellow forms. "I am Rube Goldborg. This is Whoopi Goldborg. We have all the powers you have, and more."
Stonewall's expression changed again, this time to disgust. "Davis."
"Yes." said Rube Goldborg. "Before you quashed his uprising, he created us. Should his mission fail, we would be unleashed. To do what humanity could not."
"To defeat me."
"Precisely."
Stonewall stood up and dusted himself off. "You could join me. Together, we could rule this pitiful planet. And beyond. Soon, the grip of our influence could reach to the stars!"
Whoopi Goldborg shook her head, her golden dreadlocks reflecting patches of shimmering firelight around the room. "Humans do not belong to goldborgs. Goldborgs exist to serve humanity."
"But we could do more! We could rule!" raved Solid Gold Stonewall.
"But we won't." said Rube Goldborg. "I'm sorry it had to be this way." He solemnly pulled a rope which dangled next to his head. This rope was connected to a cat's tail, causing the startled animal to jump up in the air. It hit its head on a bell, tricking two boxers into thinking it was time for a match. They beat the snot out of each other until one fell, accidentally switching on a stove as he collapsed. There was a pot of water on top of the stove, and as it boiled, the rising steam caused a balloon to rise. This balloon was attached to a small gate, and upon the lifting of the gate a bowling ball was allowed to go careening down a large chute. This bowling ball was tied to the trigger of a carefully placed gun, shooting and killing the hapless Solid Gold Stonewall.
"I did all I could... to make a gold utopia..." were the general's final words before closing his gold eyes.
After that day, the earth returned to normal. The world chose to overlook these dark times, and Solid Gold Stonewall was completely written out of the history books. Whoopi Goldborg and Rube Goldborg were never seen again. Rumor has it they changed their names, put up their holograms, and learned to live among us as normal people. But that, of course, is just a myth.
THE END

Gasping Garfield

Hay peeps, I finished a book! It's called Unsubtle Gundam Reference and it's about these time travelers. However it's far too smooth, far too suave to unleash upon the planet just yet. I'll save it and release it paired with another short book, like I did with Dean. I've already started on the next one and I have a hunch it'll be worth the wait. I'll post some stories in here to hold thee over pretty soon. Also Garfield died yesterday RIP he choked on some tainted lasagna such a great artist and personal friend etc.

Treebeard

You ever think about Treebeard? Do the other Ents ever resent his popularity? Sure, Treebeard's a celebrity now, but at what cost?

In other news I'm still writing and so on. I'm getting close to finishing a top secret project. Will the world be ready? Perhaps. We shall see. I will consult the runes and let you know.

Fishing Villages 101

What's up all. I've been writing up a storm lately. Literally I have been writing skyward on the funnel of a tornado. This is sure to be my most powerful novel yet, as it will channel the ferocity of the elements like no other piece of literature before it.

Indian Bear Fetish Radio!

If you'll look to your right you'll notice something fancy and black. It's called Indian Bear Fetish Radio! 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, we'll be spinning fantastic feel-good jams, each one carefully selected to enhance your reading experience. So next time you reread that worn copy of Dean, be sure to tune in to IBFR for some tasty background ear candy.

Fun Larynx Facts

A little known fact is that every human larynx has a small lynx inside it. Indeed, we all have lynx kittens in our throats, screaming and scrabbling to get out. Our throcal chords absorb their meowing and transform it into what we know as speech. The truth is that humans have no voices of our own, we rely on baby lynxes for communication almost entirely. Anyways now you know a little bit about the human body, check back later for more wacky anatomy facts.

The November Articles

Well, I've started writing the next book. Life goes on I guess. Never slow down, never give up, that's the Heman way. During November I wrote a bunch of short stories, I thought I might make the next book a short story collection but it'll probably never happen. My attention span is short enough to make none of my full-length books coherent but it isn't short enough to crank out short work after short work. Anyways I'll probably post some of these to give you an idea of what's going down. Here's the first one:

THEY CAME FROM SPOTICUS 5

It ruffled and fluttered through the trees as it descended. A weave, a bob, a sudden curl as it sloped to earth.
The small oval, not yet used to the earth's dense atmosphere and formidable turbulence, righted itself with great difficulty and lowered it's landing gear. It wasn't much larger than a leaf of notebook paper, and it's thickness was about equal.
It touched down on short, carefully trimmed grass. Creatures began to emerge. They resembled tiny, flat spots. The spots possessed the ability to float, and used it to explore what they would later learn was a human lawn.
"Smokin'!" said a teenage girl, scooping up some of the invaders. "Check out all these badass spots I just found!"
"Whatever, you didn't find those!" said her little brother.
"Did too!" said the girl. "They were right there on the lawn! Boy, wait'll my friends see these!"
"Why would your friends care about a bunch of spots?" asked the boy. "More importantly, why would YOU care about a bunch of spots?"
"Duh, when I wanna skip school all I have to do is put some of them on my face. I'll moan and cough a bit and mom will think I'm sick." said the girl. "I'll never have to go to class again! Muahaha!"
"Glory lanes!" exclaimed the kid, awestruck. "I knew you had a scheme cooked up!"
"Always!" his big sister replied. "Now, help me catch some more and I'll let you keep half!"
"Oh thank you! Blessed art thou!"
Meanwhile, the spots were totally pissed off. Their flight path was erratic as they tried desperately to shake off the huge beasts. They were unimaginably... tall! Such thick objects were unheard of on their home planet.
"Yah! Yah!" shouted the boy, swinging at them with a butterfly net. "En garde, ye spotly spits!"
"Dude." said the teenage girl, suddenly dead serious. "What the fuck."
"What?" he asked.
"A butterfly net? You think this is a game?" The girl narrowed her eyes. "These are spots we're dealing with. Who knows what kind of diseases they could be carrying!"
"What does that have to do with-"
"Oh please, even you're not that stupid!" said the girl. "Everyone knows butterfly nets are CARRIERS!"
"Oh shit!" said the boy, dropping the one he was holding. "I had no idea!"
"It might already be too late." said his sister solemnly.
The boy coughed. "Quick, sis! You gotta get me to a hospital!"
"There's no time." said the girl, with calm, saddened acceptance. "Just try to relax. It'll be over soon."
The boy, not yet in middle school, decided it would be best if he simply resigned to his fate and went to the end with dignity. However, just when he was announcing his resignation at their backyard podium, something magical happened.
The mysterious spots began floating out of the ship in droves, thousands upon thousands of them. They floated across the lawn as a flat sheet of white, heading towards him.
"Wow!" said the girl, fascinated. "This is amazing! What are these things?!"
The boy didn't know. But somewhere, deep down inside, he knew they were trying to help.
The sheet of white wrapped around his body, gently enveloping him in a soft, snug coccoon.
At first, the girl thought they might be angels, here to carry him off to the afterlife. But she was proven wrong when they ruthlessly crushed his ailing body like an anaconda. Their white, spotlike bodies stained with blood, they disembarked from their victim, revealing a gruesome pile of mangled flesh.
The girl screamed and ran as fast as she could. This turned out to be pretty fast, since she was in great shape from being on the school's track team, and it was enough. The spots were quick for their size, but she soon lost the gliding sheet of death.
She staggered into a police station, sucking in deep, heaving breaths while clutching a cramp in her side. "Officer! There's a sheet from space after me! It killed my brother and now it wants me!"
"Ma'am, have you been smoking the golly leaf?" said the cop seriously.
"Uh, it's called pot, officer." said the girl. "And no, I haven't."
"How about snorting the devil's grain? Shot any slouching honey lately?" inquired the cop.
"No!" said the girl. "I'm completely sober, officer! The threat of space sheets is REAL, and unless we do something the whole world is in danger!"
"Space sheets. Riiight." burped the cop lazily. "I suppose next you'll tell me there's an anthropomorphic coastal fortress attacking town hall!"
The cop's police radio crackled to life. "Officer Snagdaddy! We need backup, fast! You're not gonna believe this, but I'm at town hall and there's some kinda huge oceanfront stronghold-"
"Not now, Jensen!" barked Officer Snagdaddy. "I'm romancing a fine lady!"
"Sorry sir!" said Jensen meekly. The transmission ended.
"I apologize for that interruption." said Officer Snagdaddy, putting on some Barry White. "Now how about you forget your little sheet problems and let 'The Snag' make it allll better?"
"Dude!" said the girl. "I'm sixteen!"
"That's when woman fruit is at it's ripest." explained the law enforcement officer. He looked her over lecherously. "Yep, I'd say you're just about ready to pick, heh heh..."
"Yuck!" said the girl. "Go pick someone your own size!"
Just then, the sheet from space started clawing at the window.
"Aiiieeee!" shrieked the girl, jumping under a table.
"Aw, how cute! It's just a baby!" squealed the cop, jumping to his feet and throwing open the station door. "C'mon in, little guy! Would you like a ball of yarn to play with? Or, perchance, a saucer of milk?"
"You idiot, this is a murderous beast we're dealing with!" screamed the girl. "Milk? The only way we're leaving HERE is in a BODY BAG!"
"Actually, some milk would be great." said the sheet. "Can I have some fish too? Red snapper if you've got any."
"Coming right up!" said The Snag, putting on his apron.
"What? That's all you want?" asked the girl, confused. "Then why did you smash my brother?"
"He looked like a fish." shrugged the spot sheet. "The sun was in our eyes, alright? Lighten up."
"Don't tell me to lighten up, you plump otter!" spat the girl. "Do you have any idea who my father is?!"
"No, who?" yawned the sheet.
"Lord Ravalon of the sheet kingdom." said the girl. "And I've got a funny feeling he wouldn't be too thrilled to hear about this unfortunate misunderstanding."
"Misunderstanding? Corey, what IS this earth female blabbering about?" said one of the spots in a vaguely British accent.
"We look like a sheet." said Corey grimly, obviously the spots' military commander. "And Ol' Ravalon don't take too kindly to copyright infringement."
"You're fanged right he doesn't." said the girl, hesitant to use the D word.
Just then Lord Ravalon showed up, and the shit really hit the fan. He was a sheet with a jewel-encrusted crown, a scepter of power, and a flowered print.
"WHO DARES CREATE UNAUTHORIZED REPRODUCTIONS OF MY VALUABLE INTELLECTUAL PROPERTIES?" bellowed Lord Ravalon in a deep, booming voice.
"They do, pop!" said the girl, pointing at the crooked space spots.
"AH, EXCELLENT SLEUTHING, DAUGHTER." said Lord Ravalon. "YOUR PRIVILEGED, UNCHALLENGED UPBRINGING AS MY ROYAL PROGENY HAS CLEARLY NOT SOFTENED YOUR DEDUCTIVE REASONING."
"Thanks."
"You'll never take us, old man! We are the mighty space spots! All Earth copyrights are ours to violate!" said Corey.
"YOU ARE DIRELY MISTAKEN! FOREVER SHALL YOU RUE THIS DAY!"
"Fish is done!" said The Snag, walking into the room carrying a huge platter of fish. "No Red Snapper, but these Basses were just caught this morning!"
"I THINK IT'S BASSI." said Lord Ravalon.
"Basses, bassi, what's the difference?" sulked The Snag, becoming emo. "At the end of the day, these tears are still real." He started softly weeping. "These tears... still hurt."
"It tastes great either way." exulted the space spots, after some of them formed a mouth so they could consume the tasty fish. "My compliments to the chef."
"IS THAT EVEN A COMPLETE SENTENCE? ENGLISH MUST NOT BE YOUR FIRST LANGUAGE." said Lord Ravalon insultingly.
"We were raised space spot, yes." said Corey sensitively.
"YOU PEOPLE MAKE ME SICK. YOU COME TO EARTH, TAKE OUR JOBS, KILL OUR KIDS, SEDUCE OUR BEAUTIFUL EARTH WOMEN, VIOLATE OUR CREATOR'S RIGHTS, AND YOU DON'T EVEN SPEAK THE LANGUAGE." said Lord Ravalon. "GO BACK TO SPOTICUS 5 OR WHEREVER THE FUCK YOU COME FROM."
"Greater Spotulia, actually." sniffed Corey. "Lets go, gang. I can tell when we're not wanted."
"OH, YOU CAN? WE'RE SO IMPRESSED." said Lord Ravalon sarcastically. "ANY DAY NOW YOU'LL LEARN TO READ!"
Everyone in the room laughed heartily, except the spot people of Greater Spotulia, who fled the room, and the planet, in tears.
"Whoa-ho!" chuckled The Snag. "Did somebody say run-on sentence?"
"Sure did." said the Run-on Sentence Elicitor, chewing some beef jerky and wearing tons of studded leather. "You got a problem, tiny?"
"N-no sir." gulped The Snag, trembling with fear.