Well, I feel that there should be something posted here. So how about some more old stuff by me. God. I swear all I have is old stuff. I've got to get off my lazy ass and make new stuff.

Anyway, without further ado here is Operating Instructions. Enjoy... then comment. 'Cause I love comments. Make me feel important. Anyway.

Operating Instructions

No one saw it coming. Even those who worked on the project didn’t see it coming. Maybe they were too greedy. Or maybe they really didn't have any idea. But that doesn’t matter now.

What happened? Now that I think about it, it just happened so fast. Let me try to start from the beginning. It was April, no, March when it started. Everyone at the factory was going about their daily routines, checking the equipment, managing the finances, but overall making sure everything was ready for the launch of Microsoft’s new product: Windows Frontier. It was advertised as “The window to the new frontier has been opened, will you go through it?” But it was really just Microsoft’s desperate attempt at competing with Apple.

Anyway, on that routine day there was suddenly an explosion that shook the ground so hard it set off alarms. Everyone scrambled outside to see what happened. What they saw was a large crater. Once everyone could see inside the crater, they saw the most spectacular thing of their lives. Honestly, it may not have been much to look at, but everyone knew it was important. What was in the crater was a steaming, red-hot, chunk of metal. For hours everyone just stood staring at the foreign object as it cooled. Someone must have made a call because the CEO of Microsoft arrived with a team of lawyers at his back. Then the police showed up and shortly afterwards the federal agents. At first it was peaceful, everybody just standing around the crater watching the object cool. Then the debates of ownership began.

There isn’t a lot to say about the debates. They were all formally done in court. The governments’ best lawyers against Microsoft’s attorneys. Microsoft won every time. Eventually some of the spectators who understood the proceedings decided that the object would best be left in the hands of neutral scientists or even destroyed. But it didn’t matter because in the end Microsoft won full authority over the now obviously extra-terrestrial object.

Microsoft did their studies on the object and made the largest discovery of the modern computer age. This discovery to the modern age was Edison’s light bulb to the world. The discovery was that the object was basically a computer itself. An alien computer that worked exactly the same way as our own computers. Microsoft’s scientists decided to do some more investigating. The second discovery was of a program on the alien computer. The program was, put simply, unbelievable. It was a compression program, a program used to make other programs smaller, that could literally turn terabytes of data into kilobytes with little loss to the initial program.

Word quickly reached the upper authorities and they decided to include the program into Frontier. But there was a problem. The scientists couldn’t figure out how to separate the compression program from the other unknown files. The higher ups decided to just include the whole thing into
Frontier, they really wanted to compete with Apple. Scientists objected to the decision but it was pointless, as the company would just hire people who would put it in anyway.

The rest is now pretty much common knowledge. The device turned out to be an alien artificial intelligence, which was easily able to access the
Internet. From there it organized itself among all of its copies and began to learn. Soon there was no computer anywhere that was safe from it. It got into the military’s computer and attacked the world. It was able to build an army and now the survivors are all being constantly hunted. How do I know all of this? I was there. I was there from day one.

BOOM!!!

Oh, no! They’re attacking the outpost…

Okay. Here's the story I mentioned in catldr's thread. It's a screenplay that focuses on one scene.

To Dream the Lonely Dream, Act I, Scene I

(Adam talking to Josh on the phone in the terminal at the airport)

Josh: Look, Adam. I’m just not sure what to do about Amy.

Adam: Well Josh, here’s the only piece of advice I can think of. How about you try to spend more time with her then see where it goes from there. I mean, I’m going to Alaska to snowboard for a week. Why don’t you just take the time you’d normally spend with me and spend it with her?

Josh: Hey, that sounds like a really good idea. Maybe I’ll do it.

Adam: You really should.

Josh: You know something?

Adam: What?

Josh: For a guy who’s never had a girlfriend, you sure seem to know a lot about relationships.

Adam: Don’t hold me to that.

Josh: Why?

Adam: Well, to be honest, I kind of stole that from a Family Guy episode.

Josh: Really?

Adam: Yeah. I thought it sounded pretty good. Maybe even good enough to work.

Josh: You know, we have really got to get you a girlfriend.

Adam: You’ve been saying that for years. Even though I probably wouldn’t mind too much let’s face it, it wouldn’t happen ‘cause all we, and even our friends, basically do is talk about things that would be really fun to do and only rarely we would actually end up doing them.

Josh: Well I’d say that you’re proof that that statement is wrong.

Adam: Why? ‘Cause I’m the one out of all our friends who decided to live a little. I invited all of you to come but I’ll bet that instead of being out there with me all you’ll be doing is sitting at home playing video games, or working at the gas station.

Josh: That was cold Adam. You know we have important things to do.

Adam: You’re right. Sorry. I got a little carried away there. Sorry. But still, this is what vacation days are for.

Josh: Well… It wasn’t like you were completely wrong. We did talk about a trip to Vegas after we graduated. And I guess you were the only one who went.

Adam: Yep. It was still a pretty good trip though. After all, I was able to test out my roulette system. Pretty decent. Won three hundred bucks.

Josh: I still say it was just luck.

Adam: Maybe, Josh, maybe.

Eve: (approaching Adam) Excuse me, but is this plane going to Anchorage?

Adam: Hey, Josh can I call you back?

Josh: Sure. But remember, when you get back you’re going on a date.

Adam: Right. (puts phone in pocket, turns towards Eve) Sorry about that. But, uh, yes this plane is going to Anchorage.

Eve: Thanks. So… you also going?

Adam: Actually, yes. I plan on doing a little snowboarding there.

Eve: Where are you going to be staying?

Adam: Uh, honestly, I haven’t actually made any arrangements yet.

Eve: Really?

Adam: Yeah. This was kind of a spontaneous trip.

Eve: And you decided to come alone? Or do you have friends in Anchorage?

Adam: Well, actually…

Announcer: Attention, the 9:15 to Anchorage is now boarding. The 9:15 to Anchorage is now boarding.

Adam: I guess we’ll have to put this conversation on hold for now.

Eve: Really?

Adam: Yeah. I have to use the bathroom.

(Adam starts off for the restroom)

Eve: Wait. What’s your seat number?

(Adam turns around)

Adam: Twenty-nine F.

Eve: Oh. Good.

-------------------------------------
Oh thank God I found it. I was really not looking forward to rewriting it a fourth time.

*chuckle*
I like the moral of the story, ButterBall. (Is it just me, or does your name make it sound like I'm a condescending jerk? But I digress...) It's all about living, and being willing to go out and do it. And in the end, things just chain together. Though I have to say, the title makes it sound like the story's going to end sadly.

In Adam's first line, "How about you try to spend more time with her then see where it goes from there," should end with a question mark. It's a rhetorical question, after all. I'm not certain Eve's dialogue is terribly natural, but it's not bad, and it's hard to say if it just sounds sort of stilted or is sort of stilted without being able to "see" any expression.

Don't worry about it. The name was "given" to me by a condescending jerk (my brother at the time). But I lost the weight and kept the name.

Where would we be without digression?

Yeah, when I started I had a really vague idea about where the story would end up. Clearly it would be tragic. I could continue this (and I actually did with Act I Scene II) but I just don't think I have the mindset to commit to such a project yet. I am trying to break out of that habit by expanding another story I wrote as a freshman that was meant to be two pages double spaced but ended up being four pages single spaced.

Um... what?

In this form, rather than a more traditional narrative, there aren't any hints to her expression. Expression and delivery can completely change the meaning of words we say. In this case, I feel like her dialogue seems sort of stilted and unnatural, but I only have her words to go on. It's like reading a courtroom transcript. It's dry, it doesn't always make sense, and you don't feel all of the emotion because the only thing conveyed is the word choice, not the rest of the context involved in speaking. I can't tell if it's just me, without more context hinting.

You know what, make that comment out to be more of "the last bit seems hurried." There's not enough conversation, not enough back and forth to establish the emotions and relationship of the characters when they meet, which is probably why I feel like her obviously flirtatious dialogue seems sort of stilted.

I read this through a few times now and I'm still coming up with the same feeling. I feel underwhelmed. The dialogue seem stilted to me, and even forced in some places. The conversation on the phone seemed to drift on to long for me, withour really going anywhere. I think you need to edit that down somehwat and droip a few things that aren't really very important to what the scene is about.

I also agree wioth Av Wolf that you need to express the feelings of your characters and probably the tone they are using when they are speaking. That way their meanings will come across more clearly.

Sorry if that sounded harsh, just trying to help

It's rough since this is written something like a script or a screen play. I've never really cared for things being written that way, since we aren't watching it, we're reading it; so all the additional details and context provided by a narrative are vital. But it was for an assignment here, so there's really nothing ButterBall could do about that. Don't get me wrong -- scripts have their place, but that place simply isn't end user reading. I think it would come out much better were it in a narrative form.

Okay. Here's something that was inspired by Raphael's RP "Redemption" off in the Twokinds forum. I really liked his concept but wasn't really sure whether I wanted to join. Long story short, I thought of a couple characters, didn't join the RP and ended up doing this instead. So here it is, part one (it's most likely going to come in short bursts):

Date: December 21, 2012: 11:20 p.m.
Location: U.S.S. Alamo, NYC, USA

“I still can’t believe Ol’ Mac’s going to let us do this.” Eric said as he zipped up his olive drab flight suit and walked up the stairs to the runway.
“Please. After that fiasco in the cafeteria, I think this is the last place on Earth he wants us to be.” Jack replied, only a few steps ahead. They walked out onto the runway and put on their helmets. Eric quickly removed his helmet and turned so that the wind blew his blonde hair away from his eyes and put the helmet back on. Turning back around, he saw that Jack had continued walking towards the plane they were to fly that night and quickly caught up with him. As they got closer they noticed two figures waiting for them in front of their Harrier Jump Jet “Scarlet.” They kept walking towards the jet and quickly recognized the two men in front of her.
“Colonel? What are you doing up at this hour?” Jack asked as he and Eric threw a quick salute to their commanding officer.
“I just came to see you off for your ‘recruitment video.’” The colonel said coyly. “Oh, and to let you know I attached the cameras to your plane for you boys.”
Eric slapped his forehead then tried to put on his best act. “Oh, right! The cameras. I thought we forgot something.”
A soft chuckle could be heard from the man behind the colonel. “Do you have something to say major?” The colonel said, turning to him.
“No sir,” he said quieting down quickly.
“Good,” the colonel said before taking a big yawn, “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll be retiring for the night.”
The three of them said their good nights to the colonel and waited until he was out earshot. Then the major spoke up. “I really can’t see why the colonel’s letting you guys go on this flight, especially after what you guys did this morning.”
“Well, Eddie,” Jack started, “The way we figure, Ol’ Mac thinks that this night flight is going to wear us down so much so that in the morning he can overwhelm us with work. And someone just had to mention a recruitment video, which doesn't help.” He finished, turning towards Eric.
“Well, sorry. That was the best I could come up with so he’d let us fly in the first place.”
“How you guys ever made it this far in the service, I’ll never know.”
“Aww, methinks someone wants to go on a night ride. Come on, Eddie, you know you do.”
The major held up his pointer finger in Jack’s face and had a very disgruntled look on his face that was trying to grasp for words. Unable to think of anything else to say, he turned his back on the two and walked back to his quarters to sleep. Jack and Eric climbed into Scarlet’s seats and made the preparations for takeoff.

So there it is. Chew it up, spit it out, then force-feed it back to me.

At this hour, I can't think really clearly, so I'm going to withhold most comment. However, I don't think regulations will permit hair long enough to blow, either into or out of, a person's face. The long haired marine (and they're marines if they're using Harriers, though it really doesn't matter) is a Hollywood fantasy, so far as I know.

Meh, I knew I'd miss a lot of the realistic features of the U.S. serviceman when I started. The Hollywood fantasy is all I know.

Oh, look! Very short poetry. And it's not even formatted neatly.

My friends, today we’ve won some; today we’ve lost some. And now today is done.
But what we must remember for now and for forever is that tomorrow has just begun.

I told myself I would write something this summer, so taking what I learned from my creative writing class a couple years ago (known as "Shut up and write"), I finally sat down and for the past couple hours produced this:

“In the Heat of the Night.” The slogan that suits the city of Tai’lign to a T. After all, Tai’lign is the only place on the planet whose night’s heat far exceeds that of its day’s. Since even before the coming of the second moon, the event has baffled both priests and scientists alike. Left them returning from whence they came scratching their head in confusion. Though, I suppose with this being but a Minor Oddity, the city was left alone for as long as it was to settle the Major Oddities. That makes sense.

The city itself is nothing special. Like all the others, only with a slightly higher crime rate and the nightly sandstorms blowing over all the paths and roadways. The clean-up crew should get one hell of a salary. Anything less would probably be hell. Still, I doubt the wages can possibly compare to the card-dealers and body-sellers running rampant across city limits.

But then, I’m not here to stop crime. Like all the others, I’ve been sent by Them to fix the upset caused by the new moon. Decades later, and the bright blue orb’s still causing new and unimagined troubles. As if life for some people isn’t hard enough. The last thing they need is the ground beneath their feet crumbling away into oblivion. And while I don’t know what’s happening here, I must admit the granted use of lethal force makes my job quite efficient.

I am bothered, however. It’s not like Them to send only one of us to Aggravated Oddities. It’s just not how we work. Rule of Thumb: Always have someone to watch your back and be damn sure to repay that person in kind. Of course, it doesn’t help having both the resident priest and scientist predict your nearing doom a few days before departing. And if I’ve learned anything from my job, it’s to always take the word of an astrologer.

My car started to bounce wildly on the road. This signaled my journey to Tai’lign had almost concluded. My second clue was the giant sandstorm no more than ten miles away. This threw me for a loop seeing how the night sky had been pitch black since I hit desert country and the furthest my headlights stretched was not more than 10 yards in a straight line. Sworn to inspect any and all Oddities, I followed the massive orangeish-yellowish light. It looked as though it moved with the sandstorm; like it were alive. For fifteen minutes I followed before the storm subsided and I was left looking at the oddest of all Oddities ever recorded.

A flame, or rather flames as fire is, behemoth in size. Tall as a scraper of sky with the girth of a small lake. Mysterious, though, was how there didn’t appear to be any logs or other base to cause the flames to sprout. Stranger still, was how the flames came together to give it a rather human-like appearance.

The “head” as I suppose it was, was faced directly towards me. It then pulled back its “left arm” as if to throw a small ball. The “arm” swung forward revealing to me the last thing I would ever see. It was a ball. A ball of the purest fire.


“Well there you have it, sir. The death of Marxic Kieger,” the priest said, lowering his hands from the deceased’s charred skull.

“Thank you, priest. Doctor, you may now prepare the body for funeral services,” Kik said and returned to his room. “A human-like behemoth formed entirely of flame? [Censored]!”

Kik finished his report then wandered to the bathroom. He leaned forward on the sink counter, his head bobbing from the mirror and the drain. A gold locket popped out of his white button-collar shirt and hung suspended around his neck. He opened it and let it lay in his hand. Two images displayed in black and white sat in the heart shaped halves.

In one, a woman, illustrated with the utmost class and prestige sat perfectly in the right half. Her face presented in a smiles warming, even the animals of nature longed to be comforted in her arms.

In the other half, a child caught wrestling amongst the other schoolboys on the playground. His short-cut hair resembling that of his father’s trying to tear him away from the other children. Their faces a combination of anger and annoyance.

Kik gazed longingly at the photos before snapping out of his focus and shut the locket. The heat of the night rose the temperature of the room and he started to sweat. He set the gold locket on a hook next to the mirror and took off his shirt, setting it carelessly on the floor. He took a moment to observe his diminishing muscular figure and cursed at how his job kept him away from a consistent workout schedule. He remembered back to his training at the academy and how much they stressed each individual be as fit as an army man.

He quickly finished undressing and stepped into the bathtub, closing the curtain and blasting the cold water. The shock from the water startled his body but he forced his mind to think of other things. He started with the locket but slowly remembered why he carried it in the first place. Then his mind moved back to the job. The job. Something about it seemed off. The behemoth of fire. Somebody somewhere should have, no, would have seen something like it by now. The charred remains of not only Marxic Kieger, but his car as well have to be proof enough. If only they’d let Aloi come with him. She was far better at figuring out what they were up against. Everyone knew she was the brains and he was the brawn. This whole “going it alone” policy of theirs is really inefficient. How many more people, like Marxic, have been killed already? How many more are up for the chop? Kik swore he would never let himself fall before the might of an Oddity. Though he had to admit, without Aloi, he probably wouldn’t stand much of a chance.

The water streamed down his blonde short-cut hair and almost seemed naturally attracted to the tattoo on his left peck that showed his prestige. Kik had often wondered if the priests put some magical incantation in the ink. As far as anyone knew, they were just ordinary tattoos, though there were some who believed otherwise, even fewer would stake their jobs claiming that it had even saved their lives when faced with an Oddity. But Kik felt best to leave it alone until he was able to prove there was something mystical about it.

By this point the water was no more of a bother than the breeze blowing from the window.

Wait… Kik thought, I didn’t open the window.

Alarmed by this bit of news, Kik instantly sprang forth from the bathtub, nearly taking the shower curtain with him and spraying the room in water. Immediately identifying the intruder reaching for his precious locket, Kik tackled him to the ground and pinned him by clutching his arm in such a manner, even Beowulf would have been jealous of.

The intruder continued to cry out in agony as Kik dragged him around the room searching for something to restrain him with. Settling for one of his socks, he then tied the intruder’s hands together, releasing more cries of pain.

“Will you shut the hell up?” Kik said with a tinge of harshness, not forgetting the intruder had tried to steal his locket. “It’s your own damn fault for breaking into an Agent’s apartment and trying to steal his valuables.”

The intruder appeared to realize how sorely sour his luck had turned upon hearing the word “Agent” and silenced himself rather quickly. Without his cries deafening Kik’s ears, a loud banging throbbed on the door to the motel room. Kik grabbed the man’s arm and all but threw him into the room and to the banging door. Kik opened the door all the way and found himself looking down at what he figured was an agitated neighbor shaken out of bed by the man’s horrendous cries.

“This man just tried to rob me. Call the police.” He said to her. She continued to stand in front of the doorway as if in a deep trance. Kik followed her gaze and realized he was still naked. “I was in the shower,” he added and closed the door.

“Sit down!” Kik ordered, throwing the intruder onto the couch. He wore an oversized, black hooded sweatshirt and matching baggy pants, probably lined with additional pockets to hold more valuables. “Let’s see just what we’ve got here.” Kik said, disdain filling his voice as he pulled off the hood. Now a black handkerchief was left to cover all but his face.

“This is police brutality!” Kik’s captive complained.

“Buddy, you see this emblem?” Kik said pointing to his tattoo. “I’m not police.”

Kik tore off the handkerchief.

He grabbed the chair from the desk he’d done his reports on and placed it with the back towards the prisoner. He sat in it backwards resting his crossed arms on the back and placing his head on his arms, a wicked smile spread across his face. He stared hard at the thief tied up on his couch in front of him.

The tan on the man’s face was receding, too uneven for it to have been sprayed on. His normally straight, jet black hair had gone crazy from the sudden removal of the handkerchief and almost seemed to hide something. Something painfully obvious without the man’s disguise. Ears. Ears not even remotely human, but instead, cat. He was a mancat. More, he was an Oddity.

“So you’re a catburglar,” Kik said, staring into the man’s slit, yellow eyes and chuckling a little at the pathetic pun.

“Ugh! You have no idea how insulting that word is, do you?” the man retorted. “And would you mind putting on some pants, at least?”

“No.” Kik said and walked over to the kitchen sink to pour himself a glass of water. “You have a name, Mr. Catburglar?”

He sat back down in the chair holding the half-filled glass in his hand.

“Why should I bother telling you when you can just get it from the police?”

“My, with such big ears, I’m amazed you didn’t hear. Like I said earlier, I’m not police.”

Kik discharged the remaining liquid into the man’s face causing him to thrash about much like a cat unwillingly dunked into a bathtub filled with water.

Footsteps were heard in the hall outside, moving quickly until suddenly stopping outside Kik’s door. The sound was replaced by an intense knocking on the wood.

“Ah! That must be our ride.” Kik said grabbing the mancat by the arm again. Moving towards the door, he was greeted by a short man wearing a heavy grey raincoat and sporting a large curly blonde beard. Behind each of the short man’s shoulders stood two uniformed men.

“Captain? Why, I certainly didn’t expect to see you at this late hour.”

“Late’s a pretty relative term around these parts, Agent,” Captain Meglam said, putting a twig in his mouth and chewing on it slowly, “There’s been another death. I need you to come with me immediately.”

Captain Meglam stood up to Kik’s ear.

“It’d be much appreciated if you were to come dressed appropriately,” he whispered.

“I see,” Kik said. “Would you mind taking my friend here off my hands?”

“Friend?”

Kik squeezed the hand that held the mancat only to realize he managed to make a fist. He turned his head so his eyes could confirm what his hand was telling him. He felt a warm breeze blow through the room from the direction of the bathroom.

“Never mind. I’d like to make a police report when we arrive at the station.”

Kik walked off to the bathroom to retrieve his clothes. He’d put on his holster when he looked to the spot above the sink. The spot where the gold locket used to hang.

“Well, Mr. Catburgler,” Kik said cocking his gun. “Now it’s personal.”