Month: July 2023

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You chose a movie.

You decide to go to a movie with Jane.

“I mean, we can go see a movie, but it’s a bad idea,” says Jane.

“Why is that?” you ask.

“You’ll see,” Jane answers.

When you get to the movie theater with Jane, you see it’s a small building in a dark corner of the Mars Farm. The theater has about thirty seats, and you quickly take a look at the movies on the list.

“Wait,” you say as you read the list. “These movies…”

“Yeah, they’re all old,” Jane says.

Jane is right. The movie theater is only playing movies from last year. You have seen every one of them. You look at Jane, confused.

“What?” she says. “It takes a long time for earth to send new movies to Mars. They actually started coming a bit faster a few months ago. Last year, you would have been so sad, all the latest films here were from five years ago. I don’t know why. We get the Internet. We can read all the spoilers in the memes. But we can’t watch the movies until everyone on earth is watching the next thing.”

“But I have seen every one of these movies,” you say.

“Yeah, I have seen the spoilers from them on BookFace and InstantGrab,” Jane says, shrugging. “It’s not worth complaining about. Do you want to watch a comedy and pretend you don’t remember the best jokes? Or maybe a horror movie, and pretend you don’t remember the craziest scares? I really liked the memes for Scare Tanuki Part 12: Blood and Volleyball.”

You take Jane’s advice and watch Scare Tanuki, even though you hated it when you saw it last year. It’s not nearly as good as Scare Tanuki Part 11, or even Part 8—though the death volleyball scene is scary. Unfortunately, Jane laughs at everything in the movie—even the scary and bloody parts.

“Did you see the meme about this scene?” Jane says, laughing really loud. A robot watching the movie turned around and glared at them. “Oh my gosh, she’s about to get killed by a tanuki riding a unicycle!”

Halfway through the movie, when you buy some popcorn, Jane tells you all the ingredients in the fake butter and it’s so gross that you can’t eat it. At the end of the movie, you throw away the popcorn, and Jane gives you a high five.

“Hey, thanks a bunch,” she says with a big smile. “I understand, everything is terrible on Mars at first, but you can find something fun if you accept the strangeness.”

She punches your arm, winks, and then walks away.

“If you’re up for another date, I am free next Thursday,” she says.

You aren’t sure what to think. You sit down on a bench and look at the garbage can where you threw away the terrible popcorn. It wasn’t a great date, but honestly… Jane is pretty fun. Maybe something can come from this relationship with time.

The end.

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Go out to dinner

You decide to go out to dinner. Mars has a big restaurant run by robots, and you can order almost any kind of cuisine. You sit together at a metal table with dim lights, and you look at the menu together.

“I am going to order a pizza,” you say. “The pepperoni.”

“Do you usually order pizza?” asks Jane, and she looks alarmed.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nutrition,” says Jane. “You need to think about nutrition. The balance. The pizza here is all fake, which makes it even worse than earth pizza. Not just meat, but gross fake meat. And the cheese… it’s not healthy at all.”

“Well, but, it’s pizza,” you say. “I just want something that tastes good.”

Jane laughs.

“My man, that’s a good way to get heart disease,” she says. “Fat food always comes with a side order of an early death, if you know what I mean.”

All throughout the dinner, Jane points out calories, nutrition, and various facts about every dish and drink you order. She counts out the calories you eat and the vitamins and minerals. She talks endlessly the sugar and salt and fat in everything.

By the end of the evening, you are going crazy.

“Thanks for inviting me out and having dinner with me,” says Jane. “My goodness, I think we even managed to have a healthy meal at a restaurant! And they say it’s impossible.”

“Uh, yeah,” you say. “Thanks a bunch.”

As you walk back to your room, you realize your mistake. Jane thinks about food all the time. Going to dinner is the worst way to get to know her. You learned all the most annoying things about her first, without getting to know her best side.

The date was a disaster.

The end.

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A Walk in the Park

“Oh, I love a walk in the park, too,” Jane says. “The only problem is, there aren’t any parks on Mars. Do you want to see?”

Of course. Mars has lots of rocks and deserts, but not really parks.

“Well… but Mars is pretty anyway,” you say. “I have seen pictures.”

“Yes, I have too!” Jane says. “Let’s go see if the pictures match the real thing!”

You go for a walk in the dust and the dirt. There are many rocks. The air is very dry. Everything is brown. You frown, and Jane laughs and laughs.

“Yeah, it’s not the most romantic date,” she says. “But I like dust and dirt!”

“You do?” you ask.

“Nope!” Jane says, and slaps you on the shoulder. “Not at all! But even dust and dirt is more fun when you’re with someone. And if we wait, the sunset across the dirty rocks actually is gorgeous. I know a great place to sit on the rocks. No cushions, but the view is good.”

You brush the dust off the rock and sit together. The sun really is beautiful, and the way it highlights Jane’s crazy hair makes you smile. She gives you an energy bar from her bag.

“I’m always feeding people,” she says.

You take a bite.

“Did you make this?”

“I helped make all the food on Mars Farm 104,” she says.

“You’re amazing,” you say, and take a bite.

The energy bar isn’t very good, but they never really are delicious. You take a sip of your recycled water and Jane leans closer. You enjoy the sunset together.

The end.

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You choose Jane

You choose Jane, the food specialist. You think if you have to go on a date, it should be someone who can cook, even if she is very ugly. You meet her in her laboratory the next day. She is standing next to a giant orange block when you walk in. The robot was right—she is not beautiful, at least from your standards. She is large and her hair is everywhere and she has big, wild eyes. She smiles at you as you walk towards her.

“The robot wants us to have happiness, eh?” she says, and laughs. “I have dated more weird people because of that machine. Every time someone comes even to visit Mars, that robot tries to marry us off…”

“You have a nice smile,” you say.

“You mean I look awful otherwise,” Jane says, and when your mouth drops open, she laughs again and pats you on the shoulder. “It’s okay, I know it’s true. I have never been a beauty. Well, what’s your ideal date?”

  1. A walk in the park
  2. A beautiful restaurant dinner
  3. Going to a movie
  4. You decide to date Yui instead.
  5. You decide to date Monica instead.
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Alone on Mars

By Nicholas Driscoll

“You are a human.”

You nod at the robot as you step off the spaceship. It’s your first day on Mars, and you are really tired from the flight over. The robot guides you into the base, but it continues to stare at you.

“We are glad that you came,” says the robot. “We needed a human on the farm.”

“What?” you say.

“We are a small colony and we have several single women,” says the robot. “You can date one of them.”

“Wait, I am here to work as a farmer!” you protest. “I want to make a great farm on Mars! The best farm!”

“The best farm has a wife and babies,” says the robot. “We need more babies on Mars. It’s in your contract, too. You have to marry someone. That’s why one of the requirements for this job was that you are fertile.”

“My gosh,” you say, and you realize it’s important to read contracts very carefully.

“We have three women on Mars Farm 104,” says the robot. “You can choose which one you want to date. Food specialist Jane. She is thirty-one. She is not beautiful. Some people say she has a funny laugh. Or you can date Yui, the laborer. She is twenty-three, works hard and is very strong. Or you can date Monica, the doctor. She is twenty-nine. She takes care of the other humans on the base, but everyone hates her. However, she is fertile. Which do you choose?”

  1. You choose Jane, the food specialist.
  2. You choose Yui, the laborer.
  3. You choose Monica, the doctor.
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A Tyrannosaurus on my Doorstep, Chapter 44

By me, with art by Sam Messerly.

Click here to read from the beginning.

After dropping that bomb on his audience, Warbell then gave some details about who to contact and how to help with his effort. However, the crowd was getting louder by that point. Some people had started yelling, asking questions. The commentators came on to try to restore some order to the broadcast, and the camera cut to a farther away shot of the audience and police jostling. Some in the audience sounded ecstatic and hopeful, some sounded angry, and increasingly the different voices were blending into a cacophony.

The commentators were eating it up.

“But Frank, who has a boxing match, and then announces a medical breakthrough? I mean, who does that?”

“Well, Jane, it’s hard to say. Maybe he wanted to end the broadcast with one last punch.”

In the background, I could hear Warbell boom out, “If there is anything you can do to help, you won’t just help me! You will help yourselves as well!”

Then, as I watched the crowd continue to bellow and holler and jostle, Warbell vanished. One moment he was there, standing behind the line of agitated policemen. The next, he was gone. The effect was immediate as the crowd fell back and began to scatter with confusion.

“Where did he go? Oh, gosh, where did he go?” said Frank the commentator.

“Is that dinosaur a ninja?” asked Jane.

“This isn’t funny, Jane,” said Frank. “What is going on?”

I blinked and shook my head, wondering if the whole thing was a stunt, or a dream. The whole situation with Warbell had been surreal from the start, and I am not sure that a vanishing tyrannosaurus was the weirdest thing yet (dinosaur massages or adjustable carnivore/herbivore techno-teeth kind of take the cake), but the neverending sequence of weird made me feel like I had fallen deep into of The Twilight Zone (or maybe even Ultra Q given the prevalence of large monsters).

My phone buzzed, and I picked it up. It was a message from Colander.

“Do you trust Warbell yet?”

I thumbed out a quick reply.

“What did Warbell do to earn my trust?”

And really, he hadn’t proved anything. Warbell made an announcement about supposedly doing research on the disappearing death virus, but I wasn’t sure what that meant. What did he mean that the Dino Kingdom of Peace and Forever (or whatever the heck it was called) had technology we didn’t have? Where was this kingdom anyway? What did Warbell think was the source of the virus, and why did he care? Was Warbell working alone, or with others? Maybe he had been talking with them in my garage?

Colander sent a reply.

“You should talk to him. He gives really good massages.”

Geez. Colander actually went to get a massage from that old lizard? I tossed my phone on the sofa and went to the kitchen to do some dishes and a few other chores around the house. Maybe fifteen minutes later, I heard a knock on my door.

The hairs on the back of my head stood up and my mouth went dry. I walked to my door and peaked out the peep hole. There was nothing there.

And then I saw it. Something floating in the dark evening light. It was hard to make out just what it was until it moved.

“It’s me,” it said. “Are you there, Wal?”

It was Warbell’s head, floating in the air.

Read the next chapter.

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A Tyrannosaurus on my Doorstep, Chapter 43

By me, with art by Sam Messerly.

Click here to read from the beginning.

The reporters interviewed Punchface first about his pseudo-victory.

“I knew I could defeat even the king of the dinosaurs,” he said while nursing his hand—apparently he broke several fingers punching Warbell’s massive jaw. “In other words, the terrible lizards aren’t so terrible when they are faced with the might of my terrible fists! Ooh, ouch.”

Then finally it was Warbell’s turn.

“What do you think of people sports?” said one reporter.

“Well,” said Warbell, “If they are all like this, I think I’ll refrain from participating in the future. Someone asked me to try Muay Thai next, but I am afraid it wouldn’t work out very well. Though I do have long legs at least.”

“Do you think human-dinosaur sports might have a future?” asked another reporter.

“It’s hard to imagine,” said Warbell. “You don’t have swimming competitions against dolphins, and sane people don’t try to wrestle bears. Why make it even worse with dinosaurs? Though maybe chess would be good.”

There were several rounds of inane questions, but then a reporter asked a question that made Warbell pause.

“Are you familiar with the Tyrannosaurus Alexis?” asked one reporter, a lanky fellow with awkward glasses and an impressive goatee.

“What?” said Warbell.

“There have been a number of dinosaur fossils found near and around Final Pumpkin,” said the reporter. “One of them was a nearly complete tyrannosaurus skeleton. It was called Tyrannosaurus Alexis because the paleontologist had a hamster named Alexis at the time, and he felt the hamster had the personality of a predatory dinosaur.”

Warbell seemed dumbstruck for a moment, and I was rather surprised as well. Who names their hamster “Alexis”?

“Where is Tyrannosaurus Alexis?” asked Warbell quietly.

“Over in First Pumpkin City,” said the reporter. “At the First Pumpkin Paleontological Museum and Café—it’s on semi-permanent display. Should be only about twenty miles from here. There are a number of other dinosaur fossils from around Final Pumpkin as well.”

“I see,” said Warbell. “If I may, then please let me change the subject. I have a special announcement to make.”

Warbell paused, and I felt my pulse quicken. The old lizard took a look around the assembled crowd.

“This may be a little premature,” Warbell said. “But I think I may know what caused the disappearing death virus.”

An audible gasp rang out from the crowd. All eyes turned to Warbell. My own peepers were so wide I felt I’d never blink again.

“I need to be sure, however,” Warbell continued. “Dinosaur kind has technology that your people do not yet possess. I am using that technology to assist in uncovering the cause of the disease, but I need your help. I did not want to say anything unless I felt relatively certain. But time is important with this matter. If I am correct, then the longer we wait, the worse this situation will become—possibly exponentially worse. I realize it is difficult for many of you to discuss your medical history even with your king, but I am asking because I don’t want this horrible affliction to continue amongst you my people—and it doesn’t threaten only you. If I am correct, the disappearing death virus threatens animals and plants as well—all life on earth. But I want to be sure, and so if any of you, any of you, has had symptoms related to the disappearing death virus, please, make an appointment and come talk with me. It could mean life or death for you and your people in the future.”

Read the next chapter.

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A Tyrannosaurus on my Doorstep, Chapter 42

By me, with art by Sam Messerly.

Click here to read from the beginning.

The fight was, predictably, pretty unfulfilling. There was no way Punchface and Warbell would be able to square off in a traditional boxing ring. Warbell would have filled the entire ring. And the old lizard would not have been able to return to his corner after each round. If he turned around, he would probably hit Punchface with his tail, which might be enough in itself to KO him. What they did to ameliorate this problem was to use ropes to mark off a square-shaped section of land several times larger than a traditional boxing ring for the two to carry out their shenanigans within. There were also huge banners set up with images of Punchface and Warbell in full battle regalia. Punchface was trying to look intimidating in the image on his banner, but Warbell just had on a cheesy grin in his image. And let me just say that I never expected nor wanted to see a dinosaur in boxing shorts.

And of course there were crowds, incredible crowds. It appeared hundreds, thousands had come from miles around to watch the match. People were cheering and hooting and hollering until they were hoarse.

But the actual fight… well, it was pretty boring after all the fanfare. Warbell would lower his head so that Punchface could punch him (Warbell never bothered to block, and couldn’t have blocked if he wanted to really). Thus Punchface would make like his nickname and just sock, jab, and uppercut again and again as Warbell placidly stood and took the blows. Then, when Punchface got tired, Warbell would start trying to move forward and get some hits in. But Warbell rarely actually hit Punchface at all, let alone landing a solid strike. For one thing, Punchface was good at dodging since he’d been boxing professionally for years, and Warbell had only taken up the gloves part-time for a few weeks. For another thing, it was incredibly difficult for Warbell to see where he was punching. He kept twisting and turning his head and wobbling around swinging wildly while Punchface danced away.

It was rather comical for a while—until it got profoundly dull. Each round would proceed in the same fashion. Punchface, though visibly tiring, was too proud to give up. Warbell, meanwhile, was completely unphased by Punchface’s assaults, and just as clearly bored stiff.

At some point in the eighth round, Warbell frowned and spoke what everyone was thinking.

“This is ridiculous,” he said. “You are landing a lot more hits, so you are scoring more points, but only because I am allowing you to hit me. I could just raise my head and you wouldn’t be able to sock me in the noggin even once. You’d have some difficulty hitting above my belt, and if you hit below it, I’d just step on you. Of course, I can’t hit you, either. What did you expect from this fight?”

“No backing down now,” Punchface mumbled through his mouth guard. “You can’t run out on me before I make you a tyrannosaurus wreck.”

His pronunciation of “tyrannosaurus” sounded like “die lan o tho luss” because of the mouth guard. I could barely understand what he said. The referee (who was just as bored as everyone else) signaled for them to start back up with the punching, and they went all ten rounds without a moment of excitement. The judges then announced (whilst yawning) that technically Punchface won, but that they were going to declare the fight a tie because of… I don’t know, I didn’t catch the reason. I think I had fallen asleep.

But after that, as the post-match interviews started, I jerked up and I slapped my cheeks and pried my eyes open. The next part was what I was really interested in.

Read the next chapter.

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A Tyrannosaurus on my Doorstep, Chapter 41

by me, with art by Sam Messerly.

Click here to read from the beginning.

I thought about ignoring the text message, but I kind of felt like watching Warbell get punched in the face, so I turned on channel 7 even though I was in the middle of the scene where Captain Scrapstache manages to subdue the Bermuda triceratops by skewering one peg leg on each of the dinosaur’s horns. The fight between Raul “Punchface” Panfester and Warbell hadn’t started yet, and instead they had some commentators chattering on about the historical significance of pitting the king of the dinosaurs against the current king of the boxers. Another commentator began a rundown of all the other fights Punchface had won, and how if you added up all the men who he’d KO’d, they would be collectively about the same weight as Warbell. Then they had a journalist begin working the crowd, interviewing the weirdest people they could find.

“So basically what you’re saying is that Punchface just has to fight as if he has to KO everyone he has ever KO’d all together in one night because this dinosaur is the same size as everyone he has ever fought before combined?” asked some guy with a sharp mustache and absolutely no hair otherwise.

“If anyone has an uppercut that can down a dragon, it’s Punchface,” said another man with a massive tattoo of Raul Panfester scrawled across his left pectoral.

Punchface himself came to make his pre-fight boasts, and he blathered on and on, making the usual puns.

“I’mma gonna make this beast extinct!”

“I hear dinosaurs have a brain the size of a walnut. I never KO’d a walnut before, but I am going to take a crack at it.”

And etc.

Eventually Warbell came on the screen, but he didn’t seem interested in smack talk. He just smiled.

“After the fight, we will have a special question and answer period with me,” he said. “I want to talk about some of the things I have been investigating because I need your help—the help of everyone watching this program. There is a lot to talk about.”

I sat forward in my seat. The investigations he has been working on? Did Warbell mean about the “disappearing death virus”?

A pretty girl was asking Warbell how he felt about the fight, but I wanted to yell at her to ask about the virus. I got a text from Colander.

“What do you think he is going to talk about?”

I quickly texted back.

“I am sure it’s more than just a couple fossilized dinosaur droppings this time.”

The staff were preparing the ring for the fight, and there was a mini-documentary playing about the creation of Warbell’s specially designed boxing gloves, how they had to make artificial thumbs, and the process of training Warbell in how to use them. There were some really ridiculous shots of Warbell throwing awkward jabs at a punching bag outfitted with Punchface’s ugly mug, but I couldn’t concentrate on the fight anymore.

I was so agitated that I went to make three bags of popcorn just so I could distract myself by eating too much until we got to the interview.

Read the next chapter.