Tevun-Krus #71 - Spy-Fi

More Tales from the Punk Wars...

Last issue we ran a fill-that-comment-box contest and had a pretty good turnout! As promised, the entries will be shared here.

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But first, our personal favourite of the bunch, written by nosleneillor aka eyeexeyeeye aka rsNelson, who marks his return to Tevun-Krus (and maybe he'll submit another full-length short in the future?):

So...there I was, six borgs deep in a battle with Gaylacktipuss destroyer of imagination. The interprize had just went down. It'd be back after they were finished nobbing that ship full of English nitwits from Norway. The Yorktown had just blown up, and now it was twice as big as it used to be.

Tiecondaroga had wrote a flaming rainbow trail through the heavens. Silly queers, tie-die is for hippies. 

Gaylacktipuss was about to taint the whole earth. And after that he would probably queef the atmosphere into space. Then he would boil the oceans with a loose sounding burst of flatulence. The thunder of Gaylacktipusses cheeks flapping in his own breeze would crack the crust of the planet and spray the liquid core of earth across the jovian moons.

Such is the life when your name is james D. Dirk.

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Next up is RainerSalt's entry:

The cow creature eying Machinous was bizarre. But it was its udder that made him crack up for good.

The bovine hulk was ridiculous on its own, with its pink, wrinkled skin lacking any fur. The head it carried gave him snicker—it sported a cow's ears on a bearded human's head, the latter frowning in a slightly perplexed expression. And the horns growing from the hominid skull were a source of mirthful disbelief.

But that udder!

It couldn't be real! It was composed of five sagging women's breasts, barely contained in two-and-a-half stitched-up bras. It made Machinius laugh out loud. Made the cogs in his chest spin and rattle. Made the water in his tanks boil and bubble. Made the pressure in his manifolds rise.

And rise it did. And the overpressure valve failed to open.

So Machinius cracked up. Literally—torn asunder by water molecules in frenzied Brownian motion.

💥

Cowperson looked at the sad remains of what used to be its steam-powered enemy. And it shook its horned head.

"And so he goes," it said. "Machinius, the last of the steampunks."

It turned around, gave its guts a good squeeze, and decorated the shiny scraps of metal with rich, dark-brown goo.

It was time to chew some cud.

Cowpunk rocks.

🐮

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And now sleepingdraco's entry:

Fooled

Jessica dropped the knife dripping blood down her acid-washed jeans skirt and onto her neon leg warmers. She slowly sank to her knees holding her right arm in wonder.

"Get back on the ship and save yourself," she said as if in a trance. Before her eyes, her lace fingerless glove turned to lead but maintained its intricate pattern.

Derek glanced up from where he stood behind her gleefully dismantling a body with a chainsaw and a welding torch. Breathing erratically, he rubbed his thick stubble with the palm of his hand and gently checked that his baby-blue mohawk remained pristine. He wore ripped jeans and a leather jacket. His bare chest glistened, smeared with the guts and glory of their three-day, five-solar-system killing spree. "What?" he growled. Throwing a sprocket-covered chest plate over his shoulder, he dove his hand into the pulsing mound of slippery smooth intestines which lay underneath.

"We were wrong," said Jessica too engrossed in her metamorphosis to turn around. "These weren't steampunkers." Her spine turned to steel sending searing pain down her back. She screamed.

Derek ran over and looked with intrigue at Jessica writhing in pain, now more machine than human. "Nanites!" he said.

"Run," said Jessica. And she collapsed.

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Wow! This is what we love about TK—how even a simple challenge prompt can lead to realized worlds. Fuck yeah, mothertroopers!