Sunday Vignettes by Luke, ‘Nother Mike and Mary Catelli
We recommend that if you have an original vignette, you post that as a new reply. If you are commenting on someone’s vignette, then post that as a reply to the vignette. Comments — this is writing practice, so comments should be aimed at helping someone be a better writer, not at crushing them. And since these are likely to be drafts, don’t jump up and down too hard on typos and grammar.
If you have questions, feel free to ask.
Itsy Bitsy Promo Post by Freerange Oyster
Elise Hyatt (one of Sarah A. Hoyt’s pen names.)
Dipped, Stripped and Dead
Daring Finds Book 1
When she was six, Dyce Dare wanted to be a ballerina, but she couldn’t stop tripping over her own feet. Then she wanted to be a lion tamer, but Fluffy, the cat, would not obey her. Which is why at the age of twenty nine she’s dumpster diving, kind of. She’s looking for furniture to keep her refinishing business going, because she would someday like to feed herself and her young son something better than pancakes.
Unfortunately, as has come to be her expectation, things go disastrously wrong. She finds a half melted corpse in a dumpster. This will force her to do what she never wanted to do: solve a crime.
Dorothy Grant
Scaling The Rim
When Annika Danilova arrived at the edge of the colony’s crater to install a weather station, she knew the mission had been sabotaged from the start. The powers that be sent the wrong people, underequipped, and antagonized their supporting sometimes-allies. The mission was already slated for unmarked graves and an excuse for war…
But they hadn’t counted on Annika allying with the support staff, or the sheer determination of their leader, Captain Restin, to accomplish the mission. Together, they will overcome killing weather above and traitors within to fight for the control of the planet itself!
Bernadette Durbin
Minstrel
When Lydia flees an attempt on her life, her only thought is to get to her brother in the far-off capital. Rebellion in the land forces her to disguise herself, and when she is hired on as minstrel to the new king, William, she has to learn all she can, and quickly, so that she can unravel the treachery at the heart of the failed rebellion before her identity is revealed. Much to her amazement, along the way she becomes advisor to the king… and his friend, should she learn to accept it.
Bonus Horrendous Self Promo by Sarah
To date this is the best book I’ve written.
According To Hoyt 
I’d create a vignette, but basically I haven’t had enough coffee.
You don’t have enough coffee to base something on the prompt?
“Ha! The moat around the castle is filled with acid! You can’t cross it–any raft you make will just dissolve.”
“Okay, I have a Create Food And Water spell that will produce up to a cubic foot of food per level, and I’m sixth level, so I’m going to make six cubic feet of baking soda.”
“What? You can’t do that!”
“Sure I can. ‘Any foodstuff or ingredient.’ It says so right in the spell description.”
“I hate you guys.”
giggle
I hoped someone would go for the chemical when I saw the word.
Oh I knew someone would. It’s why I avoided that obvious direction. *grin*
I was always “that guy” in my gaming groups. If a spell, item, or ability could be used for something other than its intended purpose, I’d do it.
Not *quite* as amusing, but…
When TSR was developing BattleSystem (a mass combat system for Advanced Dungeons and Dragons; Chainmail – the mass combat system that had originally inspired D&D – was long out of print by this time), there was an article in Dragon magazine that talked about some of the playtesting that went into it. At one point, the author of the article was bragging about one particular fight in which his orcs on warboars were about to crash into the line of human defenders backed up by one puny level 5 magic-user. The author figured that, at worst, the defending magic-user would throw something like a fireball at him. And as the author put it in the article, “Orcs on warboars are tough!”
The very next sentence read, “You would not believe how big of an area a Rock to Mud spell covers.” That was followed by mention of retrieving the dice from wherever they’d been flung.
😛
Oh, that is hilarious!
Must have made the pigs happy, at any rate. Hog heaven!
Such a base use for such a nice spell.
If this ain’t fifty I ain’t a wallaby:
Hobart stumbled in the moonlight, avoiding scrub, rocks and cacti as best possible. Two days since his horse played out had left scarce enough in his canteen to whistle. He smelled the water before he could see it and prayed that it would not, like the last pool, be alkaline.
Horrendous self-promo? That ain’t horrendous! Mighty weak, yep, but to be horrendous would have to be more like “To date this is the worst book I’ve written.”
Or possibly “I wrote a really really good book and what the editors have done to it is a crime.”
“I wrote a really really good book and what the editors have done to it is a crime.”
Bwahahaha!
Not in this case.
A few quotation marks are AWOL, but not bad for an E-ARC editingwise.
Can I blame that for the joy of getting a kidney stone last night?
OUCH
I feel for anyone who gets these (well, most anyone. I can thunk of a few I’d enjoy seeing pain meds withheld). Feel pain coming back, so more meds to take.
Egad. Haven’t had this much fun since my upper back went out (worse pain for me, but lasted less time at that level).
Speaking of “stones inside the body”, an individual was told that a liver ultrasound also showed that there was a danger of developing gall stones.
The response was “everybody has told me that I have a lot of gall”. 😉
I was suspected of having gall issues, but finally walking away from the relationship with a drug addict did wonders for the issue.
A friend of mine almost died last year when her gall bladder surgery wasn’t put on the emergency list because a *receptionist* didn’t think it was critical. The surgical doctor removed a stone that was almost an inch across with the dying gall bladder. He told my friend that the receptionist would be “dealt with”, and according to her, the look on his face when he said it boded ill for that person’s job.
One hopes that the stone itself made an appearance in the dressing down.
Only 3 typos IIRC (and one was rational for rationale which is pretty minor)
I can’t recall seeing them, but after the joyful trip to the ER things kinda got blurry.
“I wrote a really really good book and what the editors have done to it is a crime.”
Or an alternative version: “I wrote a really good book, but you guys are getting this one.” That would be fairly horrendous as a promo.
About 15 years ago, I wrote parody lyrics to “Look what they’ve done to my song, Ma.” My version was, “Look what they’ve done to my book, Ma.” IIRC, the inspiration came from hearing a performance of, “There’s a bimbo on the cover of my book.”
Herman tried to keep calm. He failed. “Fluoro-oxy-fluoro-hydroxide?! That shouldn’t. No, that CAN’T exist. Or not for very long. It’d be hydrofluoric acid in a nasty flash!”
“Yet all tests we’ve run say that’s what it is, and the F-O-F acts metallic. Insane, yes.” replied Eddie.
“It’s just so… OFF-base.”
Ouch.
Success!
I play with a family of items that in a fire can outgass Hydrogen Fluoride or Hydrogen Hexafluoride gas. Fun.
“Look. If you see a fire over in this area, just leave, look at the wind socks, and go up wind. A long way. Then enjoy the show.”
Grooooooan.
That could burn up just about anything, so finely that the smoke would not come out in billows. Cal bit his lip. If they wanted to hide the base so well, and needed to, he could hope that escape would lead to help; they could not be hidden by distance.
The woman faltered. “What is the meaning of this?” Her eyes turned fiery red. “A base-born ordinary mortal, and you gave her the fairy ointment already? Let her see?”
“We haven’t,” said Artos.
“It would explain much,” said Corridon, thoughtfully.
“Oh, no,” said the woman. “She has not the Sight.”
“There’s a pool about here,” said a page boy, hesitantly, whose name I did not recall Very young, with gray eyes that he peeked at Belsante with. “A magical one. Perhaps we could find it. And find the roses with it. Or some citadel where we could live in safety.”
A cow …. a cow that makes chemistry puns What do you make of it?
Hamburger.
Hamburger? Nay!
Stroganoff! ~:D
Nonsense, Imperator. Senility seems to be encroaching on you. Such a cow is exceedingly rare; you make steak tartare.
French sushi? Just say no.
Shouldn’t that be “Just say neigh”? *arranges baskets to catch incoming piscatorial precipitation*
want some loaves to go with those?
I have not resided in Hamburg, though I have almost certainly been to/through Hamburg, WI.
I have also attended the Athens, WI fair and have been to Marathon, WI. I have not, however, run from Marathon to Athens as some seem wont to do.
“I have also attended the Athens, WI fair…”
Dare I ask, visitor or exhibit?
moooooooo
That would be telling.
Edwin: “How now brown cow?”
Julian: “’tis not a cow, ’tis a bull most fine.”
Edwin: “Eh? Art though sure?”
Julian: “I’m sure he’s a blue ribbon bull. Look at how well he be hung!”
Edwin: “Dolt! That be not a bull’s member; that be his tail!”
A tail you can “let all hang out” in various company. As for the other… I try not be too..er… base.
This is all Greek to me …. and my fraternity brothers.
Smith struggled to connect auxiliary generators to the shields before the Kzinti ship’s next run. Without additional power Terra’s last redoubt in the system would fall. Lights surged as the Kzinti face appeared on his screen, snarling. Defeated, he read the translated text: “All your base are belong to us.”
50 – count ’em – 50
Beat me to that joke, dang it. 😛
I was just waiting for someone to do it. 😀
It ain’t hard to do, it just requires you to decide what route to take to get there.
It was the third time in the game that Slidin’ Billy had gotten on base – two singles and a walk – then stolen his way around the base paths to cross home. As he dusted himself off Billy smiled at the glowering catcher and murmured, “All your base belong to me.”
Fifty on the button.
New Crytolocker ransomware message: “All your codebase are belong to us”
He looked carefully at the plans. Trenches there, gun emplacements over that way. Barbed wire, razor wire, mine fields, guard towers, etc. Carefully he nodded and started planning his entry. After all, it was all about the base.
Darn it, I missed this one before posting mine below.
It was time for the talk and Gary was excited and scared. This one talk would give him all the information needed to become a man. Dad banged his back, “well son, are you ready?”
“Yes, Dad.” A drop of sweat rolled down his face. He wiped it with his sleeve.
Dad rolled out the map that showed a diagram of a nude female. Gary took a long look. He swallowed nervously. Then his dad tapped his wooden pointer at different spots. “That is first base, second base, and third base. Now son, go out and make us proud.”
Thread winner
“You didn’t ask for a bass fiddle?”
“No. I have one. I need the base for my bass fiddle.”
“All I have left is this one.”
“It looks like a fish.”
“Yes, it’s a bass bass fiddle base.”
“Can’t get much more base than that.”
“Perhaps. It’s gold-plated after all.”
All our bays are belong to you.
Are you horsing around? 😉
Except that one named Michael.
Far too likely to have a blow-up.
Short memory: In college, I knew someone who had gotten an “indestructible” bottom peg (base) for his bass. He got rear-ended with his bass in the trunk. Sure enough, the stand peg survived. The bass didn’t.
A case of “The expensive device protected the cheap fuse most effectively.”?
It wasn’t meant to do anything other than hold up the weight of a double bass without bending. If it had been the CASE for the bass, that would have been a different story.
Ah, true.
Fellow I once knew had a handheld VHF(/UHF?) radio transceiver with a decent soft case. He drove a dump truck and one drove off with the radio on the fender rather than clipped to his belt. He found it a few minutes after realizing, on the street, in an intersection. Case was “beat to h*ell and back” but the radio was utterly unscratched. Conclusion: good case.
Only if it doesn’t make something of you first!
This was supposed to be a reply to SPQR
Your reply was supposed to be for Senate and People of Rome? Isn’t it a little late for that? 😛
No, the Imperatur in the comments
Hail Caesar! We who are about to eat your salad salute you.
“I know we thought that once we’d developed antigravity propulsion, all of our problems with building location would have been solved. Turns out, we still need aerodynamic surfaces for attitudinal and directional control.”
“So, what’s that little winglet sticking out at the very bottom?”
“Well, Fred, that’s the base Canard.”
Ooohhhhh. The painnnn.
You beat me.
Aw, c’mon, give it a shot. There’s always room for more base humor.
Very nice.
Dude, already did that. 😉
“Why are there ducks?” asked the recruit, trying to kick away the large, nasty looking mallard attacking his ankle.
“Noiser than dogs, cheaper to feed,” said the grizzled old sergeant. “Damn things are almost as good as a mine field. Haven’t had a single slider come under the wire. And we can eat ’em.”
“Can we eat this one, Sergeant?” asked the recruit, fending off another pass. “This is one vile base canard.”
We’ve all seen a sorceress let herself go for jealousy of a younger woman. Instead of embracing the gray hair, wrinkles, and caustic tongue of an old crone, they end up as something vile, venomous, with acid blood and hissing tongue. Beware! Don’t become debased!
Heck, pick your fairy tale right, and you don’t even have to be a villain as a crone.
And thank you, ser Oyster, for the promo post!
Indeed. 🙂
Inquiring minds want to know:
Is your preferred pronunciation Freerange OYster, or Freerange ERster?
Perhaps preference is not to be called at all, at least during months with an ‘R’ in the name.
Keep that up, and I’ll call the whole thing off.
As he plunged toward the ground, which appeared far firmer than terra firma generally looks, Daryl decided that, if he survived, he would have a word with one, the individual who had packed his parachute and two, the sign-maker who converted B.A.S.E. into base. Daryl hated heights.
Wait – haven’t I seen this before?
Bulwer-Lytton contest – something similar? I haven’t written this before, as best I can recall.
Unfortunately, I don’t remember many details, just pretty sure I remember seeing something with, “converted B.A.S.E. into base” in it.
Terry’s date tried to set him at ease. “Try to relax. You’re doing fine. Once -screech!”, her voice broke off, torso twisting into an impossible position and smoke trickled from her ears.
Head in hands, Terry sighed. It figured. He couldn’t even get to first base with a sex robot.
You should send this to Instapundit on his next sex robot post.
Blackart arched his fingers. “I always pander to their base nature.”
But Grenbotle was beside himself ”You helped her charity!”
“Pull yourself together. It’s now truly her charity.”
Both Grenbotles grabbed the other and merged. “ You mean-”
“Pride. They’ll do anything for it. We only have to nudge.”
Ooh, nice touch on the Grenbotle(s).
Nomination time:
https://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/18503034-april-2017
“None of the math works.”
“No wonder. Didn’t any of you notice that in all the figures, there’s not a single eight or nine?”
“Ah, coincidence?”
“Nope. Base-8.”
“Why? It was a robot. If it’s not binary, I would expect hexadecimal.”
“Crack the code and maybe we can learn why.”
“Bring me the bass.”
“He’s kind of big. I can’t carry him.”
“Not the singer. I want the bass.”
“I can’t haul ten acres of land over here!”
“Not the base. The bass.”
“Oh. You mean this guitar-looking thing?”
“Yes…Was that on purpose?”
“I always liked Abbott and Costello, sir.”
Norman looked at the message, flipping through them one page at a time. It was plans for the huge installation currently under construction. The description from M.A.M.A., however, said not to worry about the size. When his commander asked what it was about, he said, “It’s all about that base.”
(Ducking and running)
Is this what you were talking about?
Just me, but I preferred the one with the bass.
So there’s another one? I’m honestly out of touch, and don’t know what the reference is. This popped up when I did a google search, and seemed likely?
Yes, the embedded video just a few paragraphs up-page, depicting the young lady on the bass and two gentlemen playing, respectively, piano and drums.
Okay, got it. There’s another one with a bass fish on YouTube, but that one is marked parody, so I figured that wasn’t it. Thanks!
Postmodern Jukebox plays new song in new style.
Some of my favorites are the ones with Haley Reinhart.
medication talking. New songs in OLD styles. egad
Here with Haley and Puddles Pitty Party the clown.
Yep
Similar, but different. 🙂
Yeah, I was just referring to beating me to the reference.
Is this the appropriate place to say I read **Dipped, Stripped, and Dead** this weekend, and I enjoyed it very much? Thank you for a good read, Sarah.
ANY place is a good place to praise one of Sarah’s books.
The best place, of course, is in the reviews section at Amazon!
I was temporarily assigned to Sierra Army Depot; an obscure base in NW Nevada. Thursdays were the most entertaining part of the week when the military blew up old, unsafe explosives. The shockwaves flowing like a wall across the desert from when the 10,000 pound bombs blew were simply awesome.
Caught in an act of lese majeste, Abdul the Blind threw himself on the mercy of the sultan.
“I abase myself, Effendi! I did not mean to imply your wife was a dog.”
“All dogs are not the same the dark. Now hang him!” commanded the King of the Gnolls.
…something better than pancakes.
There are those who would argue that there are few things better than a good pancake, a stack, hot from the griddle, a dab of butter and some maple syrup, preferably real, yum. But, however good, they really are not something upon which to base your long term diet upon.
With bacon on the side. 🙂
Thank you, subsequent edited version:
There are those who would argue that there are few things better than a good pancake, hot from the griddle, a dab of butter with maple syrup, preferably real. But, however good, they really are not something upon which to base your long term diet, side of bacon or no.
“It’s a beautiful sculpture, John. A bit macabre’ though. Kind of like the Execution of Michelangelo’s David. Why did you make it hang with a rope around the neck?”
“Thank you’, said John with a grimace. “The thing kept falling over because I forgot to mount it on a base.”
Poor David. What did he do to deserve execution? (Runs)
Obviously, Goliath was a member of an endangered species (ie Giants). 😉
Thank goodness he was with the Philistia Giants, and not the New York Giants.
The last of the creature’s bones disintegrated with a noxious bubbling. It had taken time, and picked locks, but the monster would not regenerate again.
“I thought they said acid wouldn’t work on it?”
“Hah! Shows what they know. This vat is at the opposite end of the ph spectrum.”
Of course.
Question on DIPPED, STRIPPED AND DEAD – any particular reason why a preview is not available on Amazon? I, for one, love reading those prior to buying.
But there is the “button” for “send a free sample”.
Didn’t who for me.
ARGH that was “Didn’t show for me.” I’m not illiterate or crazy, I just hit autocorrect. Let me turn it off.
Apparently you didn’t hit it hard enough.
I have NO idea. They didn’t give me an option to opt out of it or anything like that. I JUST looked at it again to make sure. This is like the 30th thing I’ve published, if you include short stories, and I have NO idea why they’re not allowing preview. I just sent them a query.
Some belated good news – I went to the Amazon site today for this and it now has a “look inside” preview. So, I think your inquiry bore fruit. May the result be profitable for you. (Now, I’m off to read said snippet… 😉
As soon as currently-late book is in, I’ll put out a paper copy.
Because previews are taking several days post-publication to show up, lately. When I published Scaling the Rim two weeks ago, the preview came in on, if I recall correctly, day #4 after pushing the “publish” button. Why it’s taking longer for Sarah, I dunno, but it’s a known problem.
“Why? Why does my degree have to be B. Lit, too?”
The I.U. ombudsman held up his hands. “You didn’t read the EULA before signing the matriculation papers, did you? You came in via the congruent program: You were supposed to negotiate this with your partner.”
As the newly fledged Virtue flapped off in dismay, the Dominion sighed. “It’s always the same with those base angels.”
In Nomine?