A3Writer: F³ Sing Along
1001 Nights (4) Abraham (11) Aphrodite (5) Apocalypse (6) Apollo (5) Arabian (4) Ares (2) Artemis (5) Arthur (12) Athena (6) Bard (1) Ben Slater (13) Bible (77) Celtic (2) Character File (2) Chinese (1) Christian (6) Conferences (30) creation myths (15) Criminalelement (11) Dark Winds (22) Demeter (10) Diomedes (6) Don Iverson (4) Eden (5) Enchanter (16) essay (9) F3 (427) (1) Fairhaven Club (6) Fairy Tales (20) Family (2) Flood Myth (8) Flynn (78) Greek (83) Greeks (1) Guest (1) Hades (10) Hercules (9) Hestia (2) Hindu (2) History Prof (22) Holiday (12) Holiday Myths (6) Incan (1) Iranian (2) Jacob (10) Japanese (1) Job (21) Joseph (7) Judges (5) Knowledge Myths (3) Library (8) Life (121) Love Gods (4) M3 (229) (1) map (13) Matt Allen (155) Medieval (7) Metamyth (5) Misc Flash (36) monthly chart (21) Movies (6) Myth Law (2) Myth Media (4) NaNoWriMo (22) Noah (5) noir (9) Noir Tales (1) Norse (10) Odyssey (8) Persephone (13) Perseus (14) Persian (1) Poseidon (1) Prometheus (8) publishing (24) ramble (113) Red Riding Hood (6) Review (1) Sam Faraday (30) Samson (14) Sci Fi (15) science (1) Serial (42) short story (14) Spotlight (8) Storm Riders (61) Teaching (136) Tech (18) Transformation (5) Travel (27) TV (10) TV Myth (1) Underworld (6) Vacation (15) vampires (18) W3 (11) WIP (20) Writing (166) Writing Tools (16) Zeus (19)

Friday, March 8, 2019

F³ Sing Along

            I didn’t know how many drinks we had, but Richard and I had ended up singing a German drinking song Nikki had taught me. In between verses, he was telling me all about what had happened with the storm riders, Kate abducting him and taking him into the clouds, shooting lightning at him, Reilly throwing him off the cloud and them going into freefall for several minutes.
            “That’s rough, buddy,” I said.
            “No shit.”
            “No crap,” I confirmed.
            He started laughing, slowly, but it built to something uncontrollable.
            “What?” I managed, barely holding my own laughter back.
            “You said crap. What are you, twelve?”
            “Hey, I just don’t like to swear, okay?”
            “Whatever, you’re a pu—hic—a pushy kind of guy. Ha! See what I did there?”
            “Yeah, you got the smarts,” I said, pouring him a new drink. “So you did that sh—tuff, like they could do?”
            “Some, I guess. ‘s weird. I feel what they’re talking about, but I just, you know, don’t wannit. Got a job and a life. So they can go fuck themselves.”
            “Yeah, they’re real jerks. Dated Kate for a bit.” I clunked a couple more ice cubes in my glass.
            “Really? You hit that?”
            “Nah, chickened out. She’s too freaky.”
            “I hear dat. She fine, though, no doubt. Natalie, too. No fatties, here.”
            I nodded, suppressing the urge to hit him.
He’s got the jerk part, down.
“It’s the mebatolism. Real fast.”
            “No shit?”
            “No shtuff,” I grinned.
            He grinned, too, and we clinked glasses, drinking some more.
            “The powers are pretty cool,” I said.
            “Yeah, I guess. But don’t care.”
            I nodded. “So, made plans for when you go pop?”
            “The fuck you talking about?”
            I mimed an explosion coming out his head. “Kasplode, brain guts and crispy body. Real gross.”
            “You’re drunk.”
            “Yup, but you’re a time bomb. Din’t tell ya that part, huh? Unless you learn to control yer powers, you go boom.”
            He frowned. “Yer shittin’ me.”
            “Nope. Not even a little. See, Kate let me look at their sooper sekrit stuff on the web. Got it all up here,” I pointed to my head. “you will ‘splode or heart attack or sumthin unless you figger it out. Boom. No more you.”
            “Well, shit.”
            I nodded.