“The [cluck]?” said Nick, looking up at the hovering tree-remainder. “Doesn’t it fall?”
“No!” squealed Marcie, delightedly.
“Okay, that’s [borked],” he said, shaking his head.
“All will be revealed very shortly, Agent Unity,” said Logos, blasting several pieces of paper into existence on the conference room table with a casual incline of his colorful plastic handle. “Here are the roles that I’ve prepared for you to play today.”
Unity perked back up, alternately pounding on the table and pointing to the assemblage of paper. “See? Elf! I hella told you there’d be elfs! I get the elf!”
For February, an excerpt from a longer piece I’m working on in the same universe as my webcomic, “Skin Horse”. For maximum authorial freedom, I’m currently treating this as non-canonical auto-fanfic, but if the end result isn’t too terrible or world-breaking, I might reverse my stance. Anyway, check it out…
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The conference room was stiflingly hot, and there were donuts you weren’t supposed to touch on a plate in the center of the table. One could derive this fact from the tiny little placard that read “Do Not Touch” sitting in front of the plate.