Sunday June 24, 2012
Book 13: Random Access Memorabilia — Part II: Write


NARRATOR: Out of earshot of the surviving bait (err... bystanders)

SCHLOCK: If they weren't bait, why'd we lay 'em out that way?

TAGON: So they'd be easier to guard.  Now... what went wrong with that?

SCHLOCK: He was fast, and the Gavs panicked.  If they'd stayed flat I would have seen him in time to shoot him, but it would have been pretty close.

TAGON: Okay, you didn't have a clear shot and moved in for hand to... well, I guess those are hands.

SCHLOCK: The word 'tentacle' gets me in almost as much trouble as the word 'bait,' sir.

TAGON: Hand to hand it is, then.  Report.

SCHLOCK: Well, he was really strong.  Ripped a chunk right out of me.

TAGON: I've seen you get splattered before.  You're squishy.

SCHLOCK: Not when I'm flexing, but he still ripped right through the limb I was going to crush him with.

SCHLOCK: I'm just glad I didn't try to eat him.  He would have torn me some new holes, and taken my plasgun with him on his way out.

TAGON: If you had to fight him again, what would you do differently?

SCHLOCK: He's ash, sir.  I hosed him down with the plasgun because I don't WANT to fight him again.

TAGON: Humor me.  How would you handle a rematch?

SCHLOCK: Suddenly I'm in the mood to eat those ashes.

TAGON: I need to know my enemy, Sergeant.

SCHLOCK: And I need the smoky flavor of peace of mind.