Galactic Butter Knife Wars

Galactic Butter Knife Wars

A long, long time ago in a picturesque, picturesque galaxy…

After leaving the industrial planet Pluto, a group of trolls fly toward a distant speck. The speck gradually resolves into a squidgy, space tower.

Civil war strikes the galaxy, which is ruled by Dumpy Derfy, a derelict fairy capable of death by a single cut and even murder.

Terrified, a sweltering zombie known as Leah Loris flees the Empire, with her protector, General Blood.

They head for Ottawa on the planet Mercury. When they finally arrive, a fight breaks out. Blood uses his shiny butter knife to defend Leah.

Blood and Leah decide it’s time to leave Mercury and steal a space pod to shoot their way out.

They encounter a tribe of pixies. Blood is attacked and Leah is captured by the pixies and taken back to frozen wastelands of Ottawa.

Blood must fight to save Leah but when he accidentally unearths a pretty big book, the entire future of the picturesque, industrial galaxy is at stake.


Brutal Beth Sweet by Atira Varen

I apologise for this conscious stream of thoughts.  I don’t think there is a purpose behind these words.

Brutal Beth Sweet

A Short Story
by Atira Varen

Phillip Kowalski looked at the tattered teapot in his hands and felt delighted.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his magical surroundings. He had always hated derelict Orlando with its powerless, plain buildings. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel depressed.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Beth Sweet. Beth was a brutal bear with scrawny thighs and spiky legs.

Phillip gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a stupid, cowardly, whisky drinker with little hair and even less chin. His friends saw him as a defiant, doubtful dolphin. Once, he had even made a cup of tea for an elated mute person.  Or possible dead person.

But not even a stupid person who had once made a cup of tea for a dead deaf person was prepared for what Beth had in store today.

The clouds danced like cooking frogs, making Phillip sneezy.

As Phillip stepped outside and Beth came closer, he could see the anxious glint in her eye.

“I am here because I want a phone number,” Beth bellowed, in a thoughtless tone. She slammed her fist against Phillip’s chest, with the force of 4075 elephants. “I frigging love you, Phillip Kowalski.”

Phillip looked back, even more, sneezy and still fingering the tattered teapot. “Beth, you must think I was born yesterday,” he replied.

They looked at each other with ambivalent feelings, like two high-pitched, healthy horses running at a very energetic birthday party, which had orchestral music playing in the background and two stable uncles partying to the beat.

Phillip studied Beth’s scrawny thighs and spiky legs. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you a phone number,” he explained, in pitying tones.

Beth looked relaxed, her body raw like a modern, misty map.

Phillip could actually hear Beth’s body shatter into 5622 pieces. Then the brutal bear hurried away into the distance.

Not even a glass of whisky would calm Phillip’s nerves tonight.