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June 17, 2005

Volume 2, Issue 17

The theme for today is the word dice.

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Tanya: Thirty-Six

She doesn't know exactly how it works, only that it's her job, for now. Punishment for allegedly flirting with some swan down by the river. A swan, I ask you.

Is it cause-and-effect or does the ending simply justify the roll? Snake eyes, the driver dies, but the passenger, currently laying halfway thru the windshield, survives. Double fours, and a politician lives, but his assailant is killed by bodyguards. Scenes flash past as she rolls faster and faster. Finally, a train wreck.

"You'd better refill my cup, Hecatus. This one's going to take a while." And she throws the dice.


Michele: Got to Roll Me

She stared long and hard at him, eyes narrowed, fingers drumming. It was her intent to make him nervous, to cause him to make the wrong decision. He gave an annoyed glance before he finally made his choice and marked his score.

She cackled, “That was a stupid choice for this late in the game,” then shook the cup and tumbled a straight onto the table. “Booya, dumbass!”

He ignored her, flicked his wrist and poured the dice once, twice and, after the third roll, stood and pumped his fists as five fours stared back at his grandmother.

“Yahtzee, motherfucker!”


Laurence - What kind of idiot?

Podcast of this storyWe don't like it when you call them retards. They're gifted or special now.

Some of them do amazing things. They were called idiot savants, but we dropped the idiot part.

Political correctness. Bah!

See that drooling sack of crap in the corner?

Can't tie his own shoes. Can't put on a shirt. Barely knows to go to the toilet.

Put an onion and a cleaver in front of him, and he'll dice that sucker up in less than a second.

Potatoes, celery, cucumbers...

Perfect little cubes.

He's the reason we stopped doing Animal Therapy, you know.

Don't ask.

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Stacy: The Watcher

I sit at the bar, watch the action, wait for trouble.

The little old man with the wild hair and wilder jacket tosses the dice, does a little jig when he wins.

Casino traffic surges around the table. The little old man waits until it subsides. He restlessly shakes the dice in his right hand, always carefully in view of the croupier.

A woman turns and walks away from the table. She's been there about fifteen minutes, watching the action, saying nothing. The little old man stops shaking the dice, curses her loudly. He throws, loses.

I order another drink.


Andy: Les Nessman, Verses

Minus one because you miss me.

Minus two because you care.

Minus three, you think I'm lazy.

Minus four, 'cause life's not fair.

Minus five because you need me.

Minus six because you're sad.

Minus seven, hey, it's free.

Minus eight, c'mon, it's not so bad.

Minus nine... umm... minus nine...

Oh hell, that's enough for tonight.


Ted: Roll 'Dem Bones

The clatter and yelling of the dice game was starting to piss me off. I braced up Goodall.

"Don't you guys know I gotta report this shit! Knock it the fuck off!"

"Relax, there's no money here. We're just playing for fun," Goodall replied.

"Goodall you are on the shitlist already, do you really wanna piss off the old man for good this time. Besides, we're about to land."

"Why didn't you say so. We know the mission here, right boys."

The other agents nodded agreement.

When the plane landed, the murdered President's coffin was unloaded and the game continued.

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From The Comments: Jim Parkinson

A two and a three. Five.

A pair of binary stars went nova simultaneously. Billions of sentient beings on a nearby planet were annihilated.

A five and a two. Seven.

A new quark appeared and started a chain reaction, destroying a gas giant instantly. The explosion made its sun unstable.

A pair of sixes. Twelve.

A huge nebula turned a startling shade of ochre. A tiny newborn sun within turned inside out.

Snake Eyes. Two.

For an instant, the speed of light quadrupled. Nobody noticed.

Albert shook his head. “Why, God?”

“Because NOBODY tells Me what to do, Mr. Einstein!”


From The Comments: DocMac

“Charlie, you’ve got a decision to make,” said Frank Jones. He placed a pair of dice and a baseball bat on the table.

I started to rise but one of the thugs behind me slammed me back into my chair.

“You brought loaded dice into my casino, Charlie,” he said. He paused to let me think about it.

I started to shake.

“Charlie, I can turn you and the dice over to the Gaming Commission or I can break both of your knees with this bat. You have five minutes to decide.”

Some choice. Lifetime ban or crippled for life.