June 2016 75-word Writing Challenge -- VICTORY TO MOSAIX!

[Starbeast]

Merlin's Raspberry Unicorns: Only $1.98​

"Phtttpt."

"You've sold hundreds of these?"

"Certainly."

"How?"

"Like this. PRESTO! See, a few hundred more."

"I don't get it. You create 3 inch tall unicorns that just walk around, making that stupid, raspberry sound. Phtttpt. And people flock to purchase them?"

"Yep. Want one?"

"No. You're thee oldest, foolish, craziest, as...."

"PRESTO!"

"What do you have to say now, Morgana?"

"Phtttpt."

"Where's my price gun? Ahh." (click flick) "A dollar ninety-eight."

 

[Calliopenjo]

Desperation
We needed the versatility of those dragons. They laid eggs once every decade and brought another definition to sibling rivalry. They fought and often ate each other right after hatching. Lucky if one survived. With little choice and no guarantee they could be trained, circumstances demanded I use magic to mass produce them. Spell life undetermined, nothing like that had ever been done. I closed my eyes and concentrated all the energy I could.

 

[Droflet]

What’s Up Troll

“So, that’s them?”

“Yep. Basil said they’re the genuine article and if you can’t trust a goblin who can you trust.”

“How much?”

“Ten thousand gold pieces. Each.”

Martha blew air out between her tusks. “So we’re broke.”

“Not for long. See the way they’re looking at one another. I think it’s love.”

“So a thousand offspring a year. Sounds good.”

“And there they go. Breed my beauties, breed like the fairy bunnies you are.”

 

[Cat's Cradle]

The Necromancer's Black Mass

Ovelin’s spell rends reality; the tear convulses...replicates...reintegrates.
An unusually unstable manifestation; nevertheless...
She stands afield, intoning incantations to transmute sunlight into black mass mimicking a dying star’s metamorphic collapse, then hurl it through the rent unto her enemies.
One hand thrusts through the tear. Beside her a disembodied hand appears simultaneously, spewing whirlwinds of black-mass lethality from its fingertips.
The replicate rent reintegrates, severing the spewing hand. Ovelin is – to her astonishment – destroyed.

 

[Ihe]

Flynnfection


Flynn steps out of the house.

“Going to Doctor Flynn’s?” neighbour Flynn asks.

Flynn shrugs. “Gout.”

Along the way, blacksmith Flynn waves. Trader Flynn tries selling him rusted wares.

Priestess Flynnette gives him a disgusted look. He’d insinuated himself to her once. He was drunk—she was his type, obviously. Treats him like scum now. As if they were so different…

“Better unmake this spell soon,” Flynn ponders. “It’s starting to get weird.”

 

[Allen Teasdale]

Production Lines

HTF’s assembly line never stopped thanks to interchangeable parts: conveyors, ovens, cutters, elfish migrant workers.

Ernie was fatigued, finishing up his 16 hour shift. He let out a terrible scream, slumping to the flood as blood poured out from where his hand had been. The line kept on moving.

***

“Screw the diet,” said Johnny, “I deserve cookies.” From the bag, he pulled out 3 cookies and the former hand of an elf named Keebler.

 

[Bowler1]

The last days of Mad Marx

Getting workers of the world to unite isn’t so easy with orcs, humans and dwarfs, who’d happily kill each other. But these workers who toil and produce weapons for massed armies deserve a share in the dream of world domination.

So I organised collective bargaining, fought for equal rights and fair remuneration against a Dark Lord and evil oppressor, who clapped me in chains.

Rise up my fellow comrades and free me from my chains….

 

[Shyrka]

The Curse of Plenty

“It’s a Thwun ring?” Hadimir turned it over in his fingers. It seemed unremarkable.

The merchant shook his head. “Oh no Sire, it is much more than that. It is the original, crafted by the Dark Lord himself to control the world.”

“The original? But there are thousands like it!”

“Millions. The Grey Mage’s cloning spell saw to that.”

“But if everyone has one-” Hadimir’s eyes widened. “Ah.”

The merchant smiled. “Indeed, Sire. Indeed.”

 

[hopewrites]

From Elswyer.


The khajiit selected another set of colorful grasses and began weaving.
"Mass production is the daydream of those looking to get rich quicker."
Nimble paws set another basket to the side, and began again.
"Quality is the way forward. Quality is what brings profit."
Another bowl was added to the pile.
...
A set of plates follow.
"... course, a quantity of quality can't be bad right?"
Another set of colored grasses, another possible coin.

 

[Wruter]

Griselda's Twenty-Third Husband

Time was when being a witch took real work. Obtaining all the proper spell ingredients was hard: you try getting hold of virgin's blood. Nowadays everything could be had off-the-shelf and in bulk down at the mall. With such availability it was just too easy to over-indulge in, say, love potions. Not that she was addicted or anything.

She gazed fondly at her twenty-third husband. No, this time was for real.

 

[Cory Swanson]

Hugh

They found him in the bushes. Seventeen limbs and more than happy to give you one. It does not pain him to have it severed and sewn to those who might need it. In fact, it warms his heart.

Which one? The one to the left of the thirteenth kidney. The heart that you are free to take should you need it. Just leave him with one of each and he will make more.

 

[Heijan Xavier]

Business Ethics Paradigm Shapeshift

"Governor McRougeneck, we're closing our Shapeshifter cloning factory. Kakalaka discriminates."

"Lord Yaplap, Kakalaka Shape-shifters must merely represent original factory identities in public. Hhoseralshkrit, however, brutally executes all known Shapeshifters. Why so many factories there you hypocrite?"

"Hhoseralshkrit Shapeshifter demand is high, for obvious reasons, and political clout quite low. I'm no hypocrite. I'm a businesswoman"

"Woman??? You Shapeshifter traitor!"

"I prefer Shapeshifter trader. Lady Lapyap at your service!"

"At my service?"

"Oh, no I'm not"

 

[Perpetual Man]

The Weapons Race of Mass Reproduction

“Disband the armies,” the Evil One commanded.

“My Lord?” the orc commander queried nervously, “The elf and dwarf alliance are virtually at out gates.”

“It does not matter. This new race, so short-lived, but reproduce so fast, so many! The consume so much in their multiplicity, ravage forests, over-hunt to extinction, build wondrous mechanisms that poison the air around us.

“Destroy the world, why bother? Humanity will do our job for us.”

 

[J5V]

It’s in the Water

He was their best-kept secret. Despite his calibre, he accepted the assignment as a mere plumbing engineer.

He sat in the care home, built especially for people like him, reminiscing...

...about his first placement, quietly introducing The Magic into the supply, at twelve parts per billion. The enemy multiplied: a baby boom. They thought they were winning, producing more soldiers.

“Two generations. That’s all it took!” he smiled.

Their babies grew up, infertile.

 

[StilLearning]

A weighty problem.

An exterminator called to CERN expects the unusual, but…

“Pixies.”

“What?”

“Higgs pixies.” As the physicist spoke a vague, sniggering, blur shot across the floor. “It’s insane, but we think… when we found the Higgs boson belief in it was focused at CERN, and… somehow… Higgs pixies. Adding Higgs bosons to things, producing extra mass. Any ideas?”

“Great joke. Ha.” I said, and tried to rise.

But my trousers pinned me to the seat.

 

[LittleStar]

The Manual - Constructs 52:12-15 -- How the Industrani Came To Be


And with mountains hewn on His anvil and seas filled from His sluice; and with forests fashioned in His workshop and animals carved from their trunks, Indus turned His hand to His final shift, to set each of our belts into motion.

From the valley mud He formed two figures, and baked them beneath the colossal sky forges. Then the Great Conveyor breathed a bellows of life into each and named them, Indra and Industré.

 

[Eric Zeigler]

The Warlock's Army​

A fire crackled in a tent as an old man sat, his legs crossed a staff standing in his lap. He took in a long breath and breathed out a puff of green smoke.

The smoke flowed out of the tent and into a large crowd just outside. Their bodies lifted into the air, cracking as they were turned. Each landed their bodies blackened, hands turned to claws, and eyes red. The old man smiled.

 

[Parson]

Old Gods and New Magic​

In an age of hunger and childlessness Nippon's gods were being abandoned. Izanagi feared the future. Soon there would be no one to offer sacrifice and no one to fill the dohyo. Would Nippon disappear?

One day whispers reached the Forefather of a Triumvirate composed of Inari, Kishi-Bojin, and Ukemochi. These Kami were experimenting with new magic which produced much rice and encouraged begetting children.

New magic worried Izanagi. “What's this magic?”

“Mass Production.”

 

[HazelRah]

Shortcut to Rest


“There,” sighed God. “What do you think, Frank?”

The rabbit wiggled his nose and thought for a moment.
“Are two going to be enough?”

God frowned. “How many were you thinking?”

“Few hundred at least.”

“Geeze, it’s taken me nearly a day for two!”

“Well, if you're interested…?” Frank reached into his fur and retrieved a small bottle. “It really helps with… er... mass production.”

God stared at the label.

Bunny essence.

“Hmm, why not?”

 

[Phyrebrat]

Smithy for a Martyr
Jeanne d’Agneau stared into the forge. ‘But why?’
Clang!
Her father hammered and tempered, leaning over the sword with intimate connection.
Clang!
Sweat from his brow fell onto the blade.
'We're in the business of death, ma petite.’
'But Papa, you give so much of yourself to war!’
‘A little bit, Jeanne.’
Drip…
Another sword finished.

Ten years hence she took over.
Clang!
Flames dripped from her onto the blade.
Papa, j’ai froid… j’ai froid…