Into The Med Bay (Scott Deathridge, Pt.3)
As soon as you enter the med bay, the doors suddenly seal behind you with a woosh!. You begin to think twice about this, as your computer displays a virtual readout that scans the room. The floor is scattered with medical supplies that seem to have been displaced by the turbulence. One of the examination tables is toppled over. That’ll need to be fixed before we resume recruiting, you think to yourself, as you walk further into the room. The silence reminds you of your solitude, and you begin to walk with a little more ease as you approach the stasis pods. The group of three seat parallel to each other. The first one is open and you can tell it’s not functional, the third has a broken window, and you can see no one through it, but the second is illuminated. You can tell that someone is inside, but can’t see anything through the glass.
“Victoria?” you say, inquisitively, as you reach the pods, to no response. You’re about to grab and open the pod door yourself, but at the last second, hesitate, noticing the handprint on the door. The figure inside shifts slightly, possibly awaking from stasis itself.
“Captain?” asks computer, “Why did you stop?”
“The handle” you reply as you slowly back your hand away “…there’s blood on it.”
The shadowed figure pounds on the stasis pod door with such a force that makes you jump back a little.
“Captain, I—“


“Computer, that’s not Victoria”
The figure breaks from the pod and the cloudy release of stasis gas shrouds its emergence as nothing more than a shadow. Your curiosity at the origin of this spectacle precariously outweighs your fear of its design.
The shadow shifts inside its cloud and quickly jumps from the top of the pod and lands with a THUMP!
THUMP….THUMP….THUMP, you hear, as the figure begins to walk toward you as you take a couple steps back, trying to be safe. The cloud begins to dissipate, and the figure emerges. It’s some creature. Jet black skin and long limbs, with arms that droop to its side and razor sharp claws, a sweeping tail, wound by its side and pointed at the tip. Its menacing fangs slowly part as it gives out a hssssss… to warn you of its impending wrath. Its eyes aren’t big, but they’re trained on you with an eager thirst.
You step further away, hoping to reach med bay doors, when you suddenly hear THUMP! THUMP! behind you. You slowly turn your head, fearing what you already know to be true. There are two more behind you.
“Okay, everybody be cool…no loud sounds. No sudden movements. I’m not a threat” you silently say to yourself, knowing that they’re moments from ripping you to shreds.
The first one leaps. You dive to the side, ducking under the second examination table, as it dives into one of the others.
“Computer! Why didn’t you warn me about the other two!?” you shout, scrambling under the other side.
“Anomaly detected! Captain, prior to movement, anomalies do not have biometric readings the scanners can detect”
“Well, that’s wonderful, computer! Thanks for the heads up, jerk!” You shout angrily while rolling, slightly missing the whip of the tail from the third creature.
You manage to jump to your feet and courageously grab the closest weapon you can find. Unfortunately, it’s a mop. You let out a sigh of disappointment in your situation before blocking the attack of one of the creatures again, while the other two fight each other over their impending meal. You push against the lunging creature, its fangs hovering dangerously close to your face. HSSSSSS!!!
You have to end this fast. As soon as the other two notice you, you’re dead, and you know it. You fall back, kick the creature over you and roll back to your feet. You run and leap toward the wall, grabbing hold as hard as you can, then break the glass on a small box on the wall near you, pushing a big button inside. Sirens begin to go off as you feel a gigantic rush of air and a pull that rips you off of your feet. The emergency hatch on the med bay hull has been opened, and the air is leaking out into space, sucking away everything not bolted to the floor. Including those creatures. You wait for the last one to finally be dragged out into the void.
“Computer! Shut the emergency hatch!”
As the hull seals, you finally take a much needed deep breath and the gears begin to roll in your head.
“Captain, Are you well?”
“What the FUCK was that!?” you shout, before passing out on the med bay floor.


The Gap (Scott Deathridge Pt. 2)

5 Minutes Later….

You hear the whoosh of what sounds like a vacuum, and though you’re not even fully conscious yet, you know that sound all too well. You’ve just woken up from stasis. How long has it been? What were you doing? You think to yourself. It’s always a little hazy coming out of stasis. Best to just sit it out for a minute…

“Captain! It is imperative that you listen at this time!” …or not, you think to yourself, knowing that the computer won’t rest until you’re up and at attention.

“What is it, computer?”

“Anomaly detected, Captain”


“That’s just it, Captain. This AI cannot explain what just happened. There is…a gap”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, computer. Systems check.”

“All systems are functional. All fire damage is being repaired as we speak. Also, Victoria is just waking up from stasis now”

“What fire damage--?” Wait…you remember….fire, turbulence…your ship was…crashing! “Computer! Where are we? Why aren’t we crashing? Who disengaged the override!?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to report, Captain. There is a gap in this AI’s memory bank. Internal clock is offset by a period of five minutes. It appears that this AI stopped functioning during the time that you removed the override, engaged autopilot, and placed yourself in stasis.”

“But I didn’t do any of those things. Run video”

“Unable to comply. Captain, it appears video of the incident cuts off shortly before this AI. Nothing was captured.”

“What about audio or internal readings?”

“Unable to comply. Only functioning areas of the ship at that time were life support, stasis, and auto pilot. Everything else was disabled at the time of this AI”

“Hmm…The last thing I remember is you telling me that I only have 93 seconds, then making a mad dash toward the remote access panel in Cargo. Then: nothing.” The thought of a memory lapse like this upsets you. You’ve had your fair share of party nights, but nothing’s ever hit computer that way before. Whatever happened, you’ve lost five minutes of your life with nothing to show for it.

“Computer, what about Victoria? You said she was waking up from stasis?” Maybe she saved us, you think, hoping for some answers.

“Yes, Captain. She’s in medical bay. She has yet to vacate her pod.”

You quickly make your way to the med bay, hoping Victoria can fill the gaps, but as the doors open, you hesitate, and a chill goes down your spine. Something doesn’t feel right. The air is stale, and unlike the rest of the ship, med bay still looks like it came out of the tail-end of a storm.

“Computer, can you confirm Victoria’s status in the pod?”

“No, Captain. Unable to define life signs inside of stasis pods. This AI cannot perform that function, according to Charter 7-DASH-394 of--”

“What makes you sure that Victoria is here?”

“Scanners indicate faint life signs in stasis pod 2. Before the information gap, Victoria was the only other life sign on this ship.”

You don't like this feeling ahead of you, but you need answers, and step forward into the med bay.


Scott Deathridge
Some of you may remember part of this from a previous post, but a writer's work is never finished, so here is the rest of that post, followed soon by part 2. Part three is being written, and will, hopefully, be ready to be posted in the next couple of days. Thanks for reading, readers! 

“Open your eyes.”

The sound comes out of nothingness in a brilliant burst and is instantly gone again.

“Open your eyes!”

There it was again. Louder now, almost violent, but it doesn’t hurt so much as it tears away at the black fabrics of the void around you while the universe constantly trembles. There are other sounds, too. Are those sirens?

“Scott, open your damn eyes!”

There! Your eyes fly open and you sit up with a gasp to see the vibrantly beautiful woman standing above you. She looks scared and a little worse for wear, but seeing you awake brings a sigh of relief. Providing an orange aura-like light behind her, you see the roaring flames threatening to tear apart your ship.

Your ship!

You remember now and spring into action. You’re aboard the Flippletwik, an intergalactic cruiser, and you’re its captain, but who knows for how long. That trembling you were feeling wasn’t just trembling, but violent turbulence that reminds you how you were knocked out: you’re crashing.

“Not on my watch!” You shout, only now realizing how cheesy it sounded and that you just yelled in defiance of yourself. Who are you? You’re Scott Deathridge, and your story will not end here.

You spring to action, defiantly tossing aside all hesitant thoughts as you race to the control panel in the center of the main deck.

“Computer! Status report!” You shout as you approach the enormous panel.

“Condition red, Captain,” replies your ship. It has a mechanic, although almost feminine sounding voice. ”Approaching unstable atmosphere at terminal velocity. Shields at 40% and dropping. Captain, at this speed, survival rate is estimated at point-zero-eight percent. Suggest immediate corrective action.”

“Suggestion Confirmed” You say as you access the holographic control panel, allowing several screens to hover in front of you. “Engage forward thrusters, power at 70%. Bring us about and begin maintenance.”

“Unable to comply, Captain”

“This isn’t the time for jokes, computer! Engage forward thrusters!”

“Cannot compute. Captain, humor functionality is unavailable on this systems AI”

“Dammit, just tell me what the problem is!”

“Confirmed. Security override engaged. Forward thrusters disabled. Access is prohibited to this AI”

“Computer, you run this ship! How did you lose access to the thrusters?”

“Onboard security detected remote access to this AI functionality from the cargo bay” explains your computer as a video plays on one of the screens. You immediately recognize the man in the video.

“Fuller!” You exclaim, realizing now that your ship has been sabotaged, your cargo has been compromised, and your ego is badly bruised.

“This unauthorized user has since left the ship. Manual Override is needed to correct our course.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” you sarcastically reply to the computer.

“You have 93 seconds to impact, Captain”

“Well, that’s just great”


And The Horse You Rode In On
I don't know what makes people think they can just say shit to other people "matter-of-fact"-ly as if they don't already know. Granted, I'm incredibly upset myself and probably have a little bias, but that still doesn't change how a tone is perceived and meant. I can tell this is coming off a bit random, so let me fill in the blanks.

About a year and a half ago, my family bought a house, and I moved with them. There was a "half-finished" attic which was given as my room. The quotations on the half merely indicate that even though there was drywall on one side, it was covering 5o-year-old insulation. Anyway, the idea has always been that we would finish the other side, my stuff would be moved from one to the other, and then the next side would be done. Long story short, plans have changed drastically. Although the other side was yet to be finished, my side was commissioned to have the walls and insulation come down. No biggie, as long as my stuff is covered, right? Well, apparently not. My brother decided that he couldn't "word around" my desk, bed, and "designated pile of crap." This wouldn't normally be a problem if they could just move everything. (I only didn't move it myself because A: I can't move the bed by myself and B: I had to leave for work and trusted my brother and his friend to do what they had to do) Unfortunately, it turned out to be one. What's worse, this was only supposed to be a minor inconvenience. I left for work at 7am and was told they'd start at 9. I came back home at midnight (after a long day at work and a couple of hours of "I-don't-want-to-go-home-and-be-upset-at-what-I-find,-so-I'm-gonna-get-there-too-late-at-night-to-complain-to-anyone"-ing only to find that, at the rate they were going, this was going to be a week-long interference with my life. I can't have that happen. The mess that was in that attic. The sight of my "room" and the state of my belongings in dissaray was almost...insulting. I remember mumbling to myself angrily at how, even during a floor move, a rolled up poster suddenly becomes a crumple mess, signifies a total disrespect for me and my belongings just because they were "inconvenienced" by it's presence.

I'm starting to rant a little bit. Back on track. The reason I'm blogging now, is that I'm frustrated at some comments that floated around the living room this morning. I slept on the couch last night. I had no doubts that was going to end up happening, even before the mess (no way I'm gonna sleep in a closed area with freshly churned asbestos flying around). However, after already calling off of work so I could be able to lend a hand and expedite this process, I get little comments from my stepfather (for lack of a better term) who seems surprised that I'm sleeping on the couch. Apparently, Mexicans haven't ever heard of the dangers of old insulation. However, I digress. He moves on to comment that I should make sure I the attic gets finished today (knowing that I never get a day off, and not knowing I called off work, that's pretty presumptious, to start), then says "you can't stay on this couch forever." What?!? You think I fucking want this? Yeah, really. I want to turn down my very comfortable bed, in my personal room, with access to my clothes, my tv, and my video games, all bought on MY dime, to sleep on YOUR couch. Christ, he pisses me off with that. It's bad enough that I have to go out of my way and LOSE money on this, while contributing to work HE wants, but has never raised a hand to do. (literally, all previous work on that attic has been done by my hands or on my mother's dime until my brother started putting up new insulation last week, and at that, my mother STILL has to pay him) Honestly, I feel that as long as I'm going out of my way to get this done, losing out on anywhere between 75 and 200 dollars at work today, and I KNOW there's no way he's gonna even offer me money (he owes me two hundred already, by the way), then he shouldn't even talk to me about it. As far as I'm concerned, he doesn't get an opinion. Yeah, it's "his house" (I use the term loosely), but fuck that noise. Don't treat me like I'm some bum fucking kid who doesn't want to do this work and pays zero bills. Don't get me wrong. I know my life is cushy right now. I pay next to nothing compared to what I'd be paying if I lived on my own, but that's besides the point. Fact of the matter is, no matter how little I contribute, I AM contributing. What's more, is it's a needed contribution. If you can't afford to kick me out, you don't get to treat me like shit. End of story.

Oh, another note. I've been eager to make the call to my brother to go pick him up. Thinking that the sooner I get started on this, the better. While asking my mom for the number, he comments "you know, you can just start on it now and worry about getting him whenever he wakes up."

This, I can't believe. Not only have I just been woken up myself, but you're telling me that while I can't sleep in, I have to let my brother do so, AND you want me to get to work ASAP? Not to mention that we're talking about a half-hour of work, tops, before I'd have to leave to pick him up, and that it wouldn't put a dent in it. Not to mention that by the time I actually got up, got ready, tracked down a mask and gloves and got upstairs, I would have already gotten the call to leave. Not to mention that I've called off work, 12 hours in advance. You're SERIOUSLY gonna bitch about thirty minutes? This is why I'm upset. Why is it that everything has get done on this guy's schedule. You know, I bought my car on December 12th, and the lighter never worked. It's a small thing of crimping the wires, connecting the pieces, and going on with your day. I'd have done it myself if I knew how, and even tried, three times, and fucked it up, three times. But he can't be bothered to do that, can he?

I guess we all have to work on someone else's schedule, whether we like to, or not.I know it's not gonna solve anything standing around here bitching about it, but this was cathartic for me. I needed this stuff off my chest, and it is. Hopefully, I can make it through the day without killing somebody. 'Til next time, all I have to say, is fuck you, [insert title]

Thanks for reading,
Your Friendly Neighborhood Mikiekool

Funny thing about things. I'm quite upset with my art as of late, and my writing hasn't exactly been up to snuff. I can't get my head around these past few days, and it's been a hell of a time. My only recluse these days has been playing video games, which I'm scared is rotting my mind. It's quite the serious accusation, as I love gaming, and thought it loved me back (insert domestic abuse joke here).

Anyway, it's fair to say that I'm just being lazy, and that it's my fault for not knuckling down and finishing. In part, you'd be absolutely right, but I'd appreciate a little consideration, as I'm always trying to write, whether I want to or not. I'm like that guy who never turns off. I'm always doing something to make people laugh, or bring out a sense of irony in everyday situations, or even add a dark twist to a common story. A perfect example would be how I could change the ending of the little mermaid just a little, and then Ursela kills Ariel, the King, and her little fish too. At the very end, you see her eating the crab while the Erik poses for a family portrait and his dog takes a shit their mergraves. Ok....I can see I went too far, but I do that all the time. My current book has two torture scenes, and at least 13 murders. It features corrupted visions of youth, and a lead character who, despite his sense of humor and overwhelming desire to do good in the world, has been assigned the task of taking down his ex-girlfriend. She's not only the only woman he ever trusted, but also the physical representation of not only his failure to better the world, but implicit evidence that he's made it worse.

Enough about MEEGF. I feel this blog is trailing off. I'll post again when I've gathered my thoughts.

Don't know what to do
Short Post. I'm at an important part in my writing. The one where I make decisions that impact the rest of the story from here out. Now, as some of you may know, I'm writing a graphic novel, titled My Evil Ex-Girlfriend and I'm pretty far into it. I've been fighting with myself for a while now, without telling anyone, about certain details that I really need to decide. I'm not really posting here for the many opinions that may follow, but more venting in order to hopefully come to a decision while writing. I'm talking stuff along the lines of "Do I kill the protagonist?" "Does he kill the gf?" "If she lives, does he think he can save her?" and many other things. I'm totally stuck. I may write it both ways, just to see what happens. Anyway, I'll look into it and think much more. What's more, I'll also think about posting an excerpt or two from MEEGF. Let me know what you guys think about that.

Hey readers, been really busy with a lot of work, coupled with bigger deadlines, but I have been writing and if you think I've been holding out on you guys, you're right. I'll post some good stuff either later today or in the week, but for now, I'll give an excerpt from MEEGF:


We open to a black panel with buzzing news clips:

"-eports of a flying woman who-"
"-a beeline through military bases-"
"(Soldier) she just punched a hole through the tank! Just like that"
"-attacks started just two weeks ago-"
"(cop) we kept shooting. She walked like the bullets like they were nothing!"

We finally see Victor again, sitting on a couch. He's worse for wear, eyes glazed over, as the the tv blares more news of his lost "love"

"-so far unable to track her movement-"
"(Farmer) she just took off! Straight into the sky and gone before iknew anything!"

"we're coming to you live now with breaking news of this apparent 'super woman' who has been terrorizing the nation for the better part of the month."
"We're here at ----- air force base, where the super woman has just attacked. Our sources tell us that it was here that a young soldier with a camera was murdered, but not before capturing amateur footage of his attacker. We warn you, this is disturbing"

We then see badly shot video of Delilah attacking the base through Soldier's POV. She then sees the Soldier holding the camera and flies toward him. He starts to run.

"Oh God! She's coming!"
"Where are you going! I'm ready for my close-up! "

She flies and carries him up into the air.
"P-p-put me down! Who are you!?"
"hello world! My name's Delilah, but all who stand against me can call me death! Good luck, soldier"
"With what?"
"Your landing, silly!"

She then lets him go and you see her fade into the distance he falls away and the camera cuts off.

"My God...there you have it. This super woman calls herself Delilah."

Pan back to Victor, still glazed over.

"May God have mercy on us all"

There's a knock at the door...

Well that's it for now guys! Let me know what you all think and once again, thanks for reading.

~Your Friendly Neighborhood Mikie

Fireball in the sky
Little bit of writing I did as storyline intro practice to keep me on my toes. I might go somewhere with this, but ultimately, idk. Too new to tell. Let me know whatcha think peeps

"Open your eyes."

The sound comes out of nothingness in a brilliant burst and is instantly gone again.

"Open your eyes!"

There it was again. Louder now, almost violent, but it doesn't hurt so much as it tears away at the black fabrics of the void around you while the universe constantly trembles. There are other sounds, too. Are those sirens?

"Scott, open your damn eyes!"

There! Your eyes fly open and you sit up with a gasp to see the vibrantly beautiful woman standing above you. She looks scared and a little worse for wear, but seeing you awake brings a sigh of relief. Providing an orange aura-like light behind her, you see the roaring flames threatening to tear apart your ship.

Your ship!

You remember now and spring into action. You're aboard the Flippletwik, an intergalactic cruiser, and you're its captain, but who knows for how long. That trembling you were feeling wasn't just trembling, but violent turbulence that reminds you how you were knocked out: you're crashing.

"Not on my watch!" You shout, only now realizing how cheesy it sounded and that you just yelled in defiance of yourself. Who are you? You're Scott Deathridge, and this will not be the last thing you do.

Catching Up With Me
Ok, deep breath. You can do this, Mikie...SHOWTIME!

Alright, folks, this is my first blog on lj. A long-time myspace blogger, I've finally abandoned all hope of returning to that medium for blogging purposes. To be fair, it's not that I've stopped blogging, or even wanting to, I just stopped wanting to log in to myspace. Whatever, it happens, right?

So we should recap, right? My last two blogs were from March 2009 and, before that, August 2008. They were merely rants and told you nothing of my recent life. Obviously, a lot has changed for me. When last we spoke, I was writing a movie. Now, I'm writing a comic book. I'd say graphic novel, but...nah. I'm pretty happy with how it's coming out so far. It's titled "My Evil Ex Girlfriend" (MEEGF for short) and is probably the darkest, most twisted shit I've ever written, but also some of the funniest. I hope everyone likes it. Moving on in the recap train, I started dating a girl summer '08 and broke up with her fall '09. Lots of stories there, but they're all old news now. The things you should take away from that are that it was important, set a new record for me, and I'm slightly different because of it.

Moving further along, I discovered twitter, and it's possibly the biggest obstacle to blogging. I essentually was a cathartic writer. I'd spend all my time typing away at a computer desk, ranting about my troubles or writing a new chapter to some awesome story, until I didn't care about my problems anymore. Twitter ruined that by giving me little 140-character bursts of relief. That being said, I'm still on Twitter, but am making moves to try to have a more active blogging lifestyle again. I have way too much going on and definitely need something to write down.

Most of you know this, but Circuit City closed. Ran completely out of business. This means I could no longer work there. and no longer had employment. I had essentially had a little money saved, and didn't need to immediately go on unemployment. I made ends meet initially by doing something I completely despised and may never forgive myself for. I wrote college papers for money. Some of you may laugh and think it's not that serious, and I'll make plenty of jokes about it, but that was the furthest thing from what I wanted to do. It was just where the money was in a market that wasn't hiring.

I'll beat myself up over that later, but moving on, I eventually started an internship at Bonton, for what I thought was management training. It essentially was, but at the end, they basically tried to hire me as a part-tine lackey. Not for me. After the 10 weeks of the internship, it was late into summer and I received a call from Shane, my old supervisor at Circuit. Apparently there was a job opening. Full-time and on commission? Sign my ass up!

So now, I work at Micro Center, I write and draw comics, I still read as much as ever (more, now that I rediscovered my love-affair with comics), and I'm rejoining the blogging world. Is that about it? I'd say so, except...there's ts girl...but I'll save that for later.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Mikie


Now, loyal readers (At this point, I think that's only Arturo) I have a treat. It's been a while since I've posted anything, so I'm gonna post another short scene from my script. I'm now about 20 or so pages into it. Not incredibly far, but I've got some great scenes (at least I think so). I'll try to post more often, but this is probably one of the last times you'll see something directly from the script. Enjoy.

(ER waiting room.)

Doctor: Erica, Dennis?

Dennis: Yes, doctor?

Dr: We've run our initial tests, and he doesn't seem to have sustained too many injuries. However we've found something we think you should know

Dennis: Found something?

Erica: Oh no, he's not a woman is he? I swear to god, if I have to hear about one more chick with a dick-

Dennis: SHUT UP! what's wrong with him doctor?

Dr: Well, dennis, I'm afraid that when we ran blood tests, we found that he has AIDs

Erica: Dude....

Dennis: He-what? I-

Dr: Now listen, he's gonna need you to be strong for him. We're going to tell him in a few minutes and we want you to be there.

Dennis: He's so young...I...I can't believe something like this could happen to (begins to sob)

Eddy: Haaaaaah! I told you that pussy would cry first!

Dr: Son of a-

Dennis: Wha-? I?

Eddy: Well that's that doc, thanks for playin. Here's a hunsky. Take it, you've earned it

Dr: I still can't believe it

Eddy: Eh-eh-eh. Doc, my change?

Dr: Here's your quarter

Eddy: Pleasure doin business with ya

(doctor leaves)

Erica: Dude, you have AIDS?

Eddy: Pffft!

Dennis: Huh?

Eddy: I just paid the doc to come out here and say that

Dennis: So you're not gonna die?

Eddy: Fuck-tard, you listenin here? it was a lie

Dennis: Wait, you paid the doctor $99.75 to tell us you had AIDS?

Eddy: No, I paid the good doctor $100 to come out here and tell you I had AIDS and BET him 25cents your bitch-ass would cry first. What a pidgeon.

Erica: That's hilarious! I fuckin love you.

Dennis: You have no soul

Eddy: Had to make room for the comedy somewhere

Dennis: Are you even hurt at all?

Eddy: Nope, I actually stole these crutches from a one-legged kid on the way over. Speakin of which, he's finally hoppin over and he looks pissed. Let's roll.

Dennis: You know you're going to hell, right?

Eddy: Ya know, I only have to hear that three more times before gettin a free t-shirt



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