Tin Universe Middle Grade Series.

Someone is zombifying athletes at Clear Cut High School in Utah. Lucky the school has its own young superhero in the person of Mildred Betbeze to try and figure out what's going on. Pep rallies, cheerleaders, new kids in the neighborhood are just some of things our hero and her sidekick slash best friend Aisha have to deal with in the first audio book adaption in Tin Universe's middle grade series. $2.00 Profits from the sales of this audio book will go to Trans Lifeline for as long as the books is sold on Podbean.

Thursday, March 10, 2016

Tin Universe Daily #276


#276

Splendor Of The Precious Jade

BREAKING NEWS: Politicians says donating to political parties is more important than three meals a day for the benefit of the nation as a whole…

BREAKING NEWS: Indiana representative pushes for Beyond Human discussion gag law that would make it illegal for students or teachers to discuss Beyond Human rights in classrooms. Experts say the law is so vague in its wording that students and teachers who signed on might be held by its rules for the rest of their lives even after they have left the schools they were attending and working at...

BREAKING NEWS: The “renegade” scientific think tank group Mentally holds a press conference through their internet video channel that there is a great deal of signs in nature which are pointing to something that is stirring up the soup of creation…

BREAKING NEWS: Uruguay government says they have found the bones of the first human being and it will give their people the power to rise up to the level of the most powerful nations on the planet. In other news Uruguay have also set a course to legalizing marijuana. And in after thought news many wonder what they are smoking…

It’s stupid when I’m sitting here writing something to start a vignette with in an attempt to make it stretch into a short story. That’s the laziest of writing and so shameful I’m going to go eat something terrible for my body just to punish myself.
Speaking of that shame writing something. Something like the rudeness of someone picking a fight with you in a bar to test and see what the rest of your gang might do. Not that I have a gang or part of a gang or even have enough friends for a threesome… how did we get onto threesomes?
You have such a dirty mind you people.
Writing something like how I never got to go to see the local roller derby team and discuss how I think it was actually invented by Aztecs; which could lead to a few paragraphs, but padding a story never gets a writer anywhere, it never does anyone any good, and it in the end is best just to get on with things as it unfolds naturally.
Something like those paragraphs never happens to good writers.
Something that did happen but shifting a little to the side: The old Gods did leave the Earth for a destination of The Edge Of The Universe to wait for humanity to die out.
Well, one group stayed at reduced powers and another went to sleep. This all happen a while back but most of the Gods covered in Mythology classes are no longer around.
Yes, including the guy with a hate on for nails and crosses.
Something that did not happen: The Mayan End Of The World Prediction. We didn’t even get any good end of the world movies out of it. Nothing but crap shit and once again I had something else take spotlight away from my birthday. Isn’t it enough that wanker Jesus has done it every year since my year one.
Something that almost never happens is Pulpy, the most powerful being on the planet, flying through the sky and being suddenly knocked out of said sky like a lucky God finger had flicked a fly.
Something that in normal circumstances looked like a rather graceful image. That something being Pulpy flying. But the sight of what just happen had to be pretty unusual to see if a person who been looking up at the sky at that point of sight, at that point of time, had seens it.
Something unusual in his everyday nature, no matter how long he has been flying through the skies of our world is a man, six feet in height, though when flying it’s more in length. A man with hair that flows behind him and when standing it sits on his shoulders with an end tip touch. It’s actually a very 1980’s haircut. His uniform covers almost his whole body in a one-piece body suit except for his hands, thighs down, and his head. The remaining bits of the uniform is made up of boots that are further than dull and a cape connected to his uniform by shoulder pads attached to each shoulder. The uniform is also decorated in what looks like metal stars the size of a normal man’s palm but are actually a great deal more than just decoration and are in fact control discs that enhance and grant him most of his abilities.
With all of that this standout figure has a tattoo which looks like a lightning bolt that goes from his forehead, down over his right eye, and stops at his chin. Many think that tattoo is just a tattoo but it’s actually a rank, and not really a lightning bolt but instead a stripe of honor and a symbol of his true name.
Something knocked Pulpy out of the sky and sent him tumbling in the air for miles. It really isn’t that easy to catch him off guard considering one of those discs I spoke of before enhances all of his senses to a superh… Beyond Human level. Plus, all of his movements are tracked by a radar unit that is part of Operation Pulpy, which is basically another branch of the U.S. military.
 Something like two minutes passed during those miles were he was actually unconscious; which is really saying something hit him really hard.
To catch him off guard, that’s an accomplishment that many haven’t been able to do, knocking him unconscious even for a few minutes, this means you are something beyond the normal that he has encountered.
Wonder if I can start every paragraph in this story with “Something?”
Ooops, cocked that up in rewrites.
Pulpy was on his way to Mexico when he was attacked. He always liked the times he had spent in Mexico that didn’t involve him punching something or being a tool of intimidation.
To him he has never quite understood the hostility between United States towards Mexico. Even historically it really doesn’t make any sense. America has always set itself up as a people of the soil, a hard working nation, but if you look those same ways of thinking could also be applied to Mexico.
But with relations between the U.S. and Mexico at its most hostile status Pulpy had not found the chance to visit it in a long time.
As far as Pulpy taking part in the affairs of the Mexican government, he doesn’t, most of the time they act like they don’t want him involved in their affairs. Well, that’s until there’s a Beyond Human wreaking havoc or to clean up after a really big ass global warming storm.
The Mexican government in this circumstance asked the United States if Pulpy could help with a cruise ship collision that’s happen right off the coast and because their government is collapsing they didn’t have one ship or plane that could have come close to handling the situation.
Not the first time a Mexican cruise ship has made the news of late and will not be the last since a company in the country bought a number of no longer being used cruise ships out of Florida and gave them a new paint job and sent them out. Since then it has been one bad story after another.
The first one was the “shit ship” as a lot of headlines came to address it as. 1,200 people trapped on a ship, that to begin with didn’t stock enough food for its four-day voyage, and after two days out at sea the engines cut out shutting down every function of the ship such as running water, running electricity, and running toilets.
Take a cruise, the adventure might be in how you find a way of surviving the voyage.
Maybe I’ll write a story based on a cruise ship one day but I’m still pissed about the crappy cruise we went on, wounds are still too open to even write something within those thoughts yet.
The second the impact hit Pulpy the first sensory reaction that his body took in was a slight smell of very old human feces. I’m talking very old. That scent that has a little smell of cannibalism in it.
Our first reaction to just about any situation is usually one of odor. Most of the time we don’t notice it but it’s true.
The missile like object which hit him was made of a special clay mixture and contained a cocktail of ancient drugs, plagues, human excrement, and Angel spit.
Pulpy finally landed in a crash landing manner, very roughly near a pond, and his bad day continued to get worse as he noticed right away that he cracked one of his uniform discs, the one that allowed him breathe in a vacuum. He still could hold his breath for a good while but a long sustained campaign was a no go.
He will have to put faith in his team to try and reconstruct a new disc to replace it but that’s something to worry about later.
He lifted himself up and out of the impression his impact made in the mud that circled the pond.
You might call that a shoreline but I say beach like area, what can I say, I’ve lived in Florida for too long.
He just hoped no newspaper cameras or any cell phones with cameras were around because it is always meme city for months whenever he gets his uniform messy. People are still sharing that one from California last year on Facebook. It just won’t go away.
Being the focus of memes and such internet nonsense for years was never something he cared for but he was unseated from that honor as most memed by Jennifer Lawrence, Michael Fessbender, and that guy who plays Loki.
He stopped wiping the mud off his uniform when he noticed it was unnaturally quite where he had fallen out of the sky. Not just no sounds of cameras but no sounds of bugs or other nosey noises that show you things are alive around you.
You might stand somewhere and think there are is no sound but when Pulpy is standing around and there are no sounds whatsoever it’s not a good thing.
No tree branches brisling in the wind, no sounds of pond waves, and no sound of anything that is normal for a man who has heightened hearing to notice.
Like I said, when he isn’t hearing anything it means something is very wrong.
The silence was starting to unnerve him a bit, a shock to the system, like you waking up in the morning all of a sudden with no hearing at all and no sight and no sense of smell. Imagine that and you could start to try to know why he is unnerved.
Then there came sound once again into his hearing at first as a low decimal buzz and then slowly other natural things kicked back in like a formerly stopped soundtrack.
Catching his eyes, and taking his attention away from the newly restarted soundtrack, was the sight of many breeds of birds circling above his head. Way above his head, not just barely above like in an old school cartoon…. Never mind.
Before he could get his bearings about anything, including the unusual variety of gathering bird species, one of the many discs on his uniform and implanted within his body, one of the ones still working, was telling him his body was under attack by an unknown substance on a cellarer level.
There were hardly any viruses or germs or the like on Earth that affected him in any way. The guy eats uncured sushi beef for God’s sake; so this again was something else to take a piss on his normal state of things.
His focus on that bit of information was interrupted as he looked down at his feet to find them covered in snakes. That most defiantly was starting to feel like someone was testing him to see what things would maybe fuck with his mind.
That or the snakes was part of him being trapped in a cheap 1970’s horror film.
But the snakes weren’t from a horror film and he like Eve wasn’t afraid of snakes mainly because their bites couldn’t break through his uniform more less his skin.
Eve is just a badass in general.
But the sight was of these snakes was creepy so he moved away from them and ended up backing into an eight-foot-tall bust statue of an old king.
Pulpy turned around when it started talking.
And thusly the weird continued.
‘This planet shouldn’t be any of your concern, you weren’t even born here,’ Big King Head Thingee spoke with a boom.
‘Were you the one who attacked me?’ Pulpy asked the unique sight speaking to him.
The head started hopping around in a weird route to the pond in a circling path, ‘That would be the Eagle Knights. They are our pantheons warriors.’
‘Pantheon, as in Gods?’ Pulpy inquired.
‘God is a varied term. There are a small growing group of humans who have taken to worshipping you.’
‘Misguided people.’
‘Some would say that is true of all people of any faith.’
‘I wouldn’t.’ Pulpy stated.
‘Good public relations answer.’
Pulpy ignored him as you really should a smart ass hopping giant king statue head.
‘Where can I find these Eagle Knights?’ Pulpy asked.
‘Not yet but soon enough as they are testing for the coming war.’
‘What? Just to warn you I hate riddles.’ Pulpy said as he was starting to anger.
‘There are no riddles in war.’
‘What war?’
‘They are coming back from a sleep to claim all the lands they have touched. I think you call them Mexico and South America. But don’t hold me to those lands, they didn’t have maps in my day.’
The head hopped into the pond while shouting something about returning the Earth to the clams.
As the head turned over and sank Pulpy was attacked by several Were-Jaguars, the name is a self-description description. Their fierceness was all up to your imagination.
I think they’re from Olmec Mythology.
That or from a bad dream after too much cake.
Every time Pulpy threw one of them off another one recovered and attacked again. The Were-Jaguars were quick and a pain in the ass to fight, and not just because of the smell that was like spoiled milk and the cackling growl, it was also because they were as mean as shit.
Were-Jaguars are as mean as shit. You should note that for future reference.
If it wasn’t out there in bold clear letters a Were-Jaguar was like a mixture of a wolf and a jaguar. Again those two are in the name but you can also mix in a little diseased pit fighting vulture. They sense when a strong enemy is at a weak point ready to be attacked. They get that from the little bit of vulture in their blood.
The attack from the Were-Jaguars stopped when a giant snake came up from under Pulpy’s feet and slowly started to swallow him, the snakes tongue wrapped around him keeping him from struggling away.
After the snake finished swallowing him and went back into the ground a man appeared in body armor and a big bird helmet.
Not that Big Bird, an in general big bird.
Pulpy blacked out for a length of time and forgot where he was and started thinking about the sword, his honor sword that had been missing ever since he first arrived on Earth.
A little voice, that of a child with an Irish accent, for some reason it had an Irish accent, whispered in his ears that he would find his sword one day, soon, but after he found it he would lose his honor.
When he came back from the whispers he was choking on his own saliva. The sensors built within his uniform kept telling him he was nowhere or maybe within a dwarf star. The sensors were confused.
The discs under his skin and on his uniform weren’t giving back much information at all but the translated gibberish of X’s and O’s were something like “This is fucked up.”
His eyes and ears were burning with the words of the undead. Every memory of death, every touch of killing from a flower to a human being to a member of his own race was being passed through his mind at a slow frame rate to make sure he didn’t miss the most painful parts.
He pushed out against the breathing flesh and once he got his arms in front of the rest of his body he started grabbing flesh and organs and pulling himself deeper and deeper into the snake’s insides.
It’s something he can only do once a day but this was a good time for something you can only do once a day so he used energy beams from his eyes to burn an opening into some flesh.
He climbed through the opening and found himself up against an egg, within a womb, and then after continuing the journey he was back inside another part of the snake’s belly where he finally found the anus and maneuvered himself out to find that he was now inside a chamber somewhere that was decorated with torches and skulls.
The chamber gave his whole body the feeling like the instant of being shocked after dragging your socked feet across the carpet.
The snake slithered off into a dark doorway after giving Pulpy a very pissed off look. Understandable, it may have tried to eat you but was burning a hole in its womb wall really a very a nice thing to do?
Pulpy was preoccupied trying to concentrate his body into pushing out the toxins that were messing with his mind. He had to risk maybe being caught off guard again to try to get a handle of what was happening to him.
As the snake left, through another doorway came hundreds of child sized skeletons holding knifes and giving out a creepy bone on bone rattling sound.
They attacked Pulpy taking him out of his concentrated state. Every time he hit one of them they screamed in pain and he felt their moment of death as if it was his own. This kept happening until he collapsed from psychic shared existences attacking him.
Feeling others pain isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Neither is being knocked out of the sky, being lectured by a hopping giant head, being attacked by Were-Jaguars, and being eaten by a giant snake.
Oh, forgot the kid’s skeletons.
Pulpy woke up on a random road in Mexico feeling like he was having the worst drug hangover ever. A feeling no one still living had ever felt the morning after really getting fucked up. Not that he knew what that hangover feeling was, his body didn’t allow him to get drunk or high but if he could this is the feeling if he was really fucked up from a seven-day drunk night or OD party.
His discs weren’t working at all and his uniform sensors were being very whinny; so he set about walking until they clicked back online. It’s sort of like pushing your truck to try and kickstart it.

Later when Pulpy got back in control of his discs and met up with some of his handlers at a nearby United States military base just over the border from Mexico.
‘So do you consider this a real threat?’ asked one of the handlers after Pulpy explained what he had experienced.
‘I believe a plan of watching and preparation is needed.’
‘Noted. We will assign more eyes to watching Mexico.’
As he was leaving the room Pulpy staggered a bit. Something that no one in this room had ever seen from him.
‘Maybe you should see one of our doctors?’
‘I’m fine, it’s all in my report. My medical disc will adapt from the information acquired and keep it from happening again. They won’t be able to attack me the same way.’
Riding up in an elevator from the underground meeting area he couldn’t help but wonder the words that had been spoken to him. So many ancient voices have spoken of what the future holds for him and humanity. He’s a soldier, he will be prepared. He is a warrior; he is always ready for a war.
Once he reached the surface as the elevator emptied out into a storage shed; which he walked from, he stood for a minute before launching himself up into the air back towards Mexico and back to the task of trying to save lives

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The sale of this book without its cover….well, is, sort of, impossible since it really doesn’t have a cover but let us go through the legal spray out anyways. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Hands up to you who have books like this in your collection? Now that I put my hand down we can continue with the credits and copyright and legal and stuff that people just don’t ever pay attention to unless it is pumping their own horn.
An Original Publication of System* Publishing, a Tin Universe book published by System*Publishing, a division of System*Productions, Melbourne, Florida. This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead or living dead, is entirely and very much so in the coincidental.
Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2015, Brian C. WilliamsSystem*Productions. Tin Universe Daily, and all related titles, characters, and elements are trademarks of System*Productions. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. While unauthorized reproduction is sometimes needed, please remember us writers types are for the most part a poor lot just in search of a ways to tell our stories and enough money to add to our Doctor Who collections….well, at least that fits me. For more information on Tin Universe Daily, the artists who contributed to this book, and Tin Universe contact System*Productions at hangofwednesday@gmail.com
Written by Brian C. Williams

Edited by Brian C. Williams

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