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TonicRoy could barely believe his luck. He and Matheson got along all right, but Matheson was strictly business. No sense of humor. No sense of adventure.Tonic by JoeyLiverwurst
But Matheson had sent him the most incredible voice mail. Apparently, Matheson had tried a new energy drink, mutated from it, and called Roy to tell him about it. So out of character, and yet, all Roy cared about was seeing for himself.
If not for energy drinks, Roy could hardly do his job. He didn't drink tea, coffee, or even cola. Every morning, however, he threw back one or two energy drinks and coasted on that until lunch. But for all the "monster" and "power" imagery, he never had noticed much more than caffeine. Matheson wasn't one to exaggerate, though.
Roy approached the vending machine like a child on Christmas morning. Right away, he noticed the new can in the third row. It was sky blue, slender, nothing out of the ordinary. With sweaty palms, Roy sifted through his pockets and produced exact change. He pressed each coin hard th
Moving OnDale's friends were worried about him. He was never around much any more, and he never had much to say when he was. He'd just ask if he'd told them about his new job, and then not tell them anything except he had a new job.Moving On by JoeyLiverwurst
This wasn't in itself a bad thing. Dale and his friends spent their free time online, often pretending they were werewolves. They weren't lustful or violent. They just didn't have a lot to show for it after the fact, same as with video games.
Thing was, it was their only time together, or used to be. Once Dale got the new job, he started training and stopped… everything else. He stepped down as administrator from his own web site. Then he even stepped down as moderator. He chatted less with his friends, except to ask if he'd told them about his new job.
Dale's friends were glad he had a job, but his job sounded dull as the dickens. It was something to do with research, but also something to do with security. It was way out in the desert, which meant it not onl
Insect TF Request story (part 1)“Wh-where am I?” Andrea asked. She blinked and tried to sit up, but found that she couldn’t raise her body…some kind of force was holding her down. Her vision was still hazy from sleep, so she couldn’t tell what the force was, but she knew that it was disturbing to her. “What’s going on?”Insect TF Request story (part 1) by GabrielRaven
“Just relax, Andrea.” That voice…it sounded familiar.
“George? Is that you?” Andrea asked. George was the school nerd. He was picked on a lot by the jocks and the sports players because of his lack of physical abilities. But there was no denying the boy was brilliant. Behind his weak and geeky exterior was a genius. But George had recently been out of school doing something, that no one knew or understood what. But what was George doing here? What was SHE doing here? What was going on?
“I’m sorry for having to do this Andrea…but I had no choice.” George said.
“Sorry? What’re you talking ab
Commission Infos of Dex-n-Sassy 2Hi Sassy of :iconDex-n-Sassy: here to tell everyone that Point Commissions are open!Commission Infos of Dex-n-Sassy 2 by Dex-n-Sassy
Price for "Picture of Your Choice Made Base" of your choice is 40
This kind of commission will be done by Sassy.
Sassy will do a Base (your choice of what kind that Sassy use) to make a character of your choice.
Sassy will NOT make any nake pictures.
Price for "Weapons Drawings" of your choice is 50
We will do a drawing of weapons of your choice, with the choice of color or without color.
Price for "Literature Author Tags" of your choice is 60
We will make a Literature Author Tag of your choice.
Send us a note on how your Literature Author Tag like to be.
Price for "Anthro Drawings" of your choice is 70
Dinner GuestDinner Guest by JoeyLiverwurst
George brightened at the knock at the door. It was "Shave and a Haircut," the same knock he always gave. He still looked through the peephole but knew all along who it was.
"Trevor!" he exclaimed once the door was unchained.
Green eyes glinted in the dark, and strong arms balanced a bouquet of daffodils and a plate wrapped in plastic.
"I'd hug you, but then you'd be wearing these," Trevor explained. He entered and set everything down on the dining room table. "OK, now," he suggested, arms outstretched.
George embraced his son, but with lips pursed. Trevor took care not to hurt him.
"You know," George said, "it's a shame to wear such a nice suit with all that scruff on your face."
"It's fur, Dad," Trevor retorted.
The kitchen door opened, and a tall, thin woman of about forty approached with a bowl of potato salad.
"Tessie!" Trevor yelped, and ran across the room to nuzzle her before she could put the bowl down. She giggled, sounding significantly younger.
"Help with anything?" Trevor i
Closed SessionFlorida! Why did it have to be Florida?Closed Session by JoeyLiverwurst
Joe hated Florida. Tourist traps and old people too stupid to read a ballot. As a result, eight years of George W. Bush, although it did lead to some pretty good music.
Joe had wanted to go to North Carolina. He had heard wonders about Charlotte barbecue and Research Triangle Park, but North Carolina was the worst state for unions. Hardly anybody was attending the convention over it. So, Florida it was.
Maybe he could get a big juicy story no one else could. Catch delegates drunk or doing drugs, really hard drugs. With hookers. That would be the ticket, and he could move up to some bigger, better paper.
He called out to a cabbie. "Hola! Donde es el convention center?"
"Get in," instructed the driver.
"Yo soy journalista," Joe gushed. "Te gusta los taxis?"
"Oh. All right."
The car left the airport.
"You know today's cancelled, right?"
"Mmm, heard something about that. Maybe I can still catch them saying something shocking, thoug
Never Too OldNever Too Old by JoeyLiverwurst
"That was the lamest one yet!" Glenn snickered.
"It was pretty bad," Kevin admitted, "but not as bad as Strawberry Shortcake."
"Thanks for reminding me. Yeah, that was even worse."
"Good candy, though."
"Mmm," Glenn assented through a mouthful of Skittles.
The zombie and the pirate approached the little blue house and followed an arrow to the back door.
"Betcha this one sucks," Glenn said as he pressed the doorbell. Suddenly, the door flew open to reveal a short flight of stairs.
"Trick or treat?" Kevin asked hopefully.
A meaty paw reached around the door, and Glenn did a spit-take. A diminutive werewolf emerged from the house and howled for dramatic effect.
"What are you supposed to be, Curious George?" Glenn scoffed.
The werewolf howled again and held out a plastic pumpkin brimming with sweets. Kevin carefully selected a Butterfinger, whereas Glenn grabbed whatever would fit in his sticky gray hand.
"Thanks," Kevin mumbled.
The werewolf barked, and two rivulets of drool fell onto the