February, 2013 Archives


King Netzahualcoyotl

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

When the last known jaguar died in the San Jose Zoo, it was believed that people would be safe from now on. And for the next decade, not one mysterious case of kidnapping or decortication was reported anywhere in the region.

Sloane Davidson, professor of ancient lore, warned anyone who would listen the jaguars were still among them. When the killings began, she was the first. Friends and colleagues revealed themselves as jaguars in disguise. The time had come for revenge.

Not many humans survived the uprising. Those who did became slaves. Thus the rule of King Netzahualcoyotl had begun.


End Of Dr. Palmer

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

Dr. Palmer, geneticist, realized one day that of all the animals, no one had yet thought to sequence a dog’s genome. He therefore gathered his team and immediately set to work.

Dr. Palmer quickly discovered there was something wrong with dog DNA. They didn’t have any. Every dog he tested was composed of completely foreign protein sequences. Palmer concluded they had been planted here by an alien civilization to observe Earthlings.

End of Dr. Palmer.

Several years later, Dr. Robinson, geneticist, realized one morning that none of his colleagues in the field had ever bothered to sequence the dog’s genome.


Light Finds A Way

by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

In the urban underbelly of the city, an entire population of unfortunates spent their entire lives in the blackness of the sewers. For generations, they’d had nothing but rats and each other for food, until Earl began cultivating rows and rows of crops in the light-deprived tunnels, where not even electricity reached. He made himself into the richest man in the world, yet no surface dwellers had ever heard of him.

When asked how he grew food without light, Earl claimed his crops were nourished on the clarity of his conviction. In reality, he was smuggling sunlight from above ground.



by thegooddoctor in 100 Words

One day, as he was looking through old photographs, Dave noticed a little boy in many of the photos who looked a lot like him, only a couple years younger. He was even in the family portraits.

As he flipped through, memories floated back of an imaginary friend named Stephen. Dave remembered him as a constant companion. His parents had always been kind enough to humor him. But sometime around his twelfth birthday, his parents had informed him that Stephen had been run over by a car.

It seemed strange an imaginary friend could show up in photos like that.