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Genretrash Safari

I can hop genres! Look at me go!

Starfire Nights

Rear Admiral Jack Manning had only moments to think. The Xeq’tralian warship, covered in the blood of a thousand human colonies, was bearing down on his ship, the USS Moscow-Tokyo, at between .9 and .95 times the speed of light. He gritted his teeth bravely; his chest was ready for combat; there were a lot of medals on it (one for saving the President). He ordered his gunnery chief, Lara Lei, to open fire with everything they had.  

“Gunnery Chief Lara Lei, open fire with everything we have!” he shouted.

“Absolutely, Rear Admiral,” she smiled seductively and also talked. Jack grinned roguishly; if they survived this final battle, they would make love tonight. “Firing laser batteries!”

Crimson, octagonal beams of light shot from the Moscow-Tokyo. The ship looked like a proud metal eagle; the Xeq’tralians were its prey, cowardly snakes the lot of them. And just like an eagle’s talons would rend the flesh of a snake, so too did Manning’s ship tear the belly of the enemy open. A guy in a spacesuit flew out of it. The crew on the bridge of the Moscow-Tokyo let forth a rousing cry of cheers.

“I admire your rear, Admiral,” purred Lara as she walked up to the Rear Admiral and stroked his cheek. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her close.

“That will have to wait, my dear,” he said, still a man of the mission. “I think you will notice that one of their guys flew out of that ship; we will capture him and I will interrogate him. Tractor beams activate at between 75 and 100 percent on that guy!”

“We have him, sir,” reported a yeoman.

“What will we do?” swooned Lara.

Rear Admiral Manning squinted commandingly, “You leave that to me.”

“Lara, you come with me,” he added. She followed him with a soft passion.

As he made his way to the brig, he could not help but be drawn to Lara’s eyes. They were like the diamonds that he would give her later in their lives. She noticed him looking at her; “I love you, Rear Admiral” she thought to herself in words that she could never say. As they walked past the Gravitas-Electric Mark VI-2005 Coulomb force propulsion system control panel, they longed for each other.

As he made his way into the brig, Jack saw the Xeq’tralian. It was in a green spacesuit with lights on it. “Turn those lights off,” he ordered the security officer, “and happy Kwanzaa to you.”

“Sho nuff, co-man-da,” he said, jiving his way to the Xeq’tralian, but the lights were actually laser beams and he died!

“Fuck no!” grunted the Rear Admiral. Lara started to cry and groaned, “Ugh! I have no guns!”

Jack flexed with new resolve. “That’s okay. Lasers mean a computer, and I know a thing or two about computers.”

He shouted with all his might! “Can an omnipotent being create a rock too heavy for themself to lift!?”

Instantly the Xeq’tralian exploded just as he was about to detonate the ship, and Jack and Lara with it.

“You did it, Rear Admiral!” stroked Lara.

“I know I did. Now have your way with me,” said Jack staring into her diamonds.

And that she did.

Blooding Love

Sarah Carolla adjusted her visor; it was too tight and it said “Quick Burger” on it. She was a meek thing, pretty but not too beautiful. She had the look of someone who enjoyed drawing. She liked horses.

Some people walked into the restaurant. Popular girls coming from the big game; ooh, they’re so lucky, she thought. I wish I didn’t have to work at a fast food place. The girls walked up to the counter and snootily ordered cheeseburgers.

“How’s it going, Smellarah?” laughed Kelli Myers, the head cheerleader, as she held the cheeseburger Sarah had just given her.

“Fine, Kelli,” said Sarah. She was polite and friendly.

“Not anymore!” yelled Kelli as she smeared a cheeseburger on Sarah. There was ketchup all over her now! The cheerleaders howled laughter as they walked out to their sports cars.

A powerful young man in the corner of the restaurant who Sarah had not noticed before walked up to her. Mist and some leaves swirled around him a little.

“Those girls were awful to you. Hi, my name is Alabaster. Alabaster Sable.” He wiped a lone tear from her cheek and then a lone tear from his cheek.

“Hi, sorry I’m a mess!” said Sarah. This new boy was so interesting. She couldn’t put her finger on why.

“No, don’t worry at all!” he stuttered powerfully but still vulnerably “Actually, I think you’re quite beautiful!”

“ M-m-m-m-m-m-me?! No!” she said; she was intrigued by his intensity. His eyes were like smoky diamonds and his skin was like porcelain.

He hopped up on the counter, sitting on a tomato but he didn’t even care because he was already in love with her. He stroked her neck; his intensity basically kissed her.

“You fascinate me, Sarah. Every night I come in here. I don’t think you notice me, but I’ve been admiring you from afar. I’m not weird though.”

“Phew, that’s a relief.” It was good to know that he was not weird.

“I don’t drink blood unless it’s from a cow.”

“I want to ride horses with you.”

“We will do more than that!” he grabbed her and they flew out the window! He now had a cloak that he wrapped her in.

“This is to keep you warm while we fly high above these mortal plains,” he voiced.

His care made her feel safe. “Embrace me! Embrace me, now, Alabaster!” She gave her neck to him. He hissed a little and then bit it. They did a writhing blood dervish that poetically drew spirals across the face of the moon; it was their moon, now, no one else’s, a symbol of their love for the whole world and beyond to know.

“Oh, Alabaster, you’re mine forever!”

“And you, mine! Now let’s go watch me play baseball!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

And that they did.

Dragonious

The game was afoot-- Kel-ron had Arboliax the forest dragon right where he wanted it. He motioned for Gulzar, his Orcish barbarian companion, to move to the vile beast’s left flank. “Me smash!” Gulzar loudly whispered and hurried off. He then motioned in the other direction for Nax, the Dark Elf sorcerer from a lost land, to approach it from the right. Nax gave a curt nod and jogged over there, carrying a black iron staff of fire and a scrotum full of mana.

Kel-ron waited to give his loyal friends the signal to attack. Just a few seconds, he thought to himself, and then I will be worthy of calling myself the King of Firix! He fingered his bow, known to the people within his kingdom as Lightbringer of the Righteous, known to his enemies as doom. He began softly singing an ancient song of his people to himself to prepare his mind for the coming chaos:

“Blades of grass, spring summer winter fall, harvest time is coming and from there there is no fall / the rain can come but so can soil to grow plants in / still the just and the right here can build stone walls to protect them all from / evil dragons and demons who would wish to harm our crops/ our crops, we can farm and we can fight / and here is a tree, just full of leaves and beneath is some moss / look at this moss it is neat, neat as can be / it is green and it is soft just look at this leaf.”

And then in the distance he heard the dragon roar. It was now or never! He let an arrow fly into the dragon’s eyeball, the signal for Gulzar and Nax to attack. Gulzar ran at the dragon, screaming and holding a large-spiked ironwood maul of wounding above his head. Nax began chanting his Elvish spells.

“Fireball!” he chanted, causing a ball of fire to explode on the dragon.

“Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt! Lightning bolt!” Nine lightning bolts struck the dragon. It roared and then died with a mighty growl.

“Well done, my friends,” called Kel-ron.

Nax laughed. “Well done to you, too, hyoo-mon,” he joked intelligently. Gulzar roared and drank a barrel of mead from their camp rucksack.

“I may be a hyoo-mon, but I am also the new king of this land! Lightflyer Society, heed my call!”
Some unicorns ran in.

“We ride into battle again, my friends! To the inn to find bandits! Let us capture a minion!”

“Huzzah!” they all cheered.

The unicorns ran off; the crew were now on unicorns.

“Gulzar kill dudes!” the hearty barbarian Orc of the North screamed, laughing viciously as he grinned and gnashed his teeth.

And that he did.

Savannah Passions

“This heat will be the death of me,” Savannah Delacroix sighed. She hauled a boxful of her clothes up the long steps of her new home, a beautiful white plantation house that long ago had been dubbed Garden of Delights. Generations of Delacroix women had inhabited this place and now, with the passing of her Aunt Blanche in a tragic horse-mounting accident, it was Savannah’s turn.

Balancing her box of clothes on a handrail, she struggled with the front door to no success. “Goodness, how will I ever do this alone?” she asked no one, expecting no answer.

“Why, with my help, ma’am,” came a strong, smooth, long voice. The man stood tall, tan, dark and built like a wild stallion (muscle-wise, as well as passion-wise). He wore a thin white t-shirt and some tight blue jeans. His words took her breath away; her bosom heaved angrily. In the silence after he spoke, his heart thumped. His neck throbbed. She shuddered.

“No need to speak,” he muttered. “We’re neighbors—us Thibodaux’s have always taken fine care of the Delacroix women.”

“Blanche never said anything about a man… quite like you.” She licked her lips. “Sorry, it’s so hot in here—do you mind?” She removed her blouse; underneath it was only her lace bra.

“Not at all. I’m Nicholas, and no, my uncle was a friend of your Blanche’s. She was a tad old for me. Different interests and all.” He removed his pants. “It is so hot.” She shuddered.

They locked eyes. Hers, green and rich like the emeralds packed with the energy of the land after which she was named, his, gray like storm clouds that dared to cast passionate spurts of lightning wherever they might please. She moaned and slumped to the floor; he rushed to her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, immediately resting his ear atop her busy chest. “Your heart is racing.” He brought his lips only an inch away from hers. “And your lips are chapped.”

“Whatever can I do?” she breathily gasped, grasping his hand and holding it over her heart.
“Wait! Do you hear that?!” he asked, holding one of her fingers to his lips.

“What? I don’t hear—“

“THE SOUND OF LOVE” he interrupted.

She screamed from pleasure as he began bouncing atop her, spinning and spinning before collapsing atop her more heavily than he had previously been atop her. She fainted from excessive pleasure syndrome, coming to only to find herself dreaming of being nude atop a powerful horse in a field as beautiful as her name, and the horse was rather large and only she could tame him. Then, she shuddered some more and collapsed atop the horse only to dream within her dream that she was riding another, larger stallion that not even she could tame. She then blacked out.

When Savannah came to, she was lying in a pool of sweat, naked and alone and still pretty warm.

“Fuck Nicholas Thibodaux!” she moaned.

And she did.