Witchy Hut

Beatrice finally found a parking spot at the BLT supermarket. She sighed in relief. A moment later, a man parked his monster truck right next to her door. It was so close she had to crawl across to the passenger side to escape.

“You’re not supposed to park there,” she said to the driver.

He scoffed at her and walked away.

Beatrice pulled out her cell phone and chose the third number in her favorites list.

On the third ring an even toned voice answered, “Thank you for calling Witchy Hut, home of the sleeping curse. May I take your order?”

“I’d like one medium curse. Male, about 25, brown hair and blue eyes, drives a red and green monster truck.”

“Would you like to upgrade to a large curse for an extra dollar?”

“No, a medium will do.”

“Do you want a plague of locusts with that?”

“Just the curse.”

“That’ll be $12.75. Remember, if it isn’t delivered in 30 shakes of a nine-tailed kitsune, your order is free. Have a nice day, and thank you for choosing Witchy Hut.”

Copyright Joe Rover 2021. All rights reserved.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading!


Dashing Heroes and Exciting Sci-Fi/Fantasy Action Await You in the Dogboy Multiverse

A peaceful drive turns into a road rage battle as Joe and Bandit defend themselves against Roadburn and Skidz. During the fight, Joe meets the mysterious Leo. Who is this young man? What do Roadburn and Skidz want with him?

Halloween Tip: Beware the Asset Hunters

Though the abduction, mind-wipe, and will-manipulation of people, places, and things has largely been outlawed throughout the Omniverse, there are still those, Asset Hunters, who capture and sell beings on the Black Market. These “assets” are then used in video games as characters, props, or settings.

With the decrease in asset hunting, a vacuum was formed thus allowing some Paradox Prisoners to be reborn as cyber-realm assets. 


Dashing Heroes and Exciting Sci-Fi/Fantasy Action Await You in the Dogboy Multiverse

A peaceful drive turns into a road rage battle as Joe and Bandit defend themselves against Roadburn and Skidz. During the fight, Joe meets the mysterious Leo. Who is this young man? What do Roadburn and Skidz want with him?

An Unhappy Ending

An unhappy ending doesn’t mean a sad ending. It means an ending that wasn’t supposed to happen; an ending where justice, compassion, or mercy aren’t served. If a protagonist is an unrepentant slimeball and they get away with continuing to be a slimeball, the story has an unhappy ending. However, if the slimeball realizes they were a creep and works to make amends–even if that includes jail time or worse–then the story has a happy ending.

The job of Blue Light Technologies (BLT) is to feed happy endings to the orb located on the roof of BLT Tower. If it is fed unhappy endings, there is trouble. An example is the Holocaust; it was the result of one unhappy ending. The Dark Ages is a result of many unhappy endings.


Dashing Heroes and Exciting Sci-Fi/Fantasy Action Await You in the Dogboy Multiverse

A peaceful drive turns into a road rage battle as Joe and Bandit defend themselves against Roadburn and Skidz. During the fight, Joe meets the mysterious Leo. Who is this young man? What do Roadburn and Skidz want with him?

Paradox Prisoners

Since you can’t destroy or create matter or energy, what happens during a paradox or new timeline event? 

The energy “created” by the event and the affected people have to go somewhere. In less extreme cases, such as new memories, the affected people have their memories altered to fit the new timeline. In more extreme cases, such as a person being erased from existence, they can’t go into the Afterlife because they technically didn’t exist. Instead, they are reborn. In most cases, they become animals, toys, or other objects in need of a soul.

More recently, they are reborn in the cyber-realm as viruses, programs, ghosts in the machine, and video game characters or assets. These Paradox Prisoners remain in this state until their death at which point they are officially dead and can enter the Afterlife to await Final Judgement. 


Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Adventure. What More Could You Want?

The name is Joe Rover. Gamer. Writer. Superhero. With the help of my friends, I protect Megaton City from all sorts of villains whose only desire is chaos & destruction. 

Monsters Defined

“Monster” is given to anyone or anything that is non-canon/fan-made. Monster hunters see them as anomalies since they believe they “have no soul” and seek to destroy them.


Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Adventure. What More Could You Want?

The name is Joe Rover. Gamer. Writer. Superhero. With the help of my friends, I protect Megaton City from all sorts of villains whose only desire is chaos & destruction. 

What Causes a Paradox?

What causes a paradox?

One is a new timeline. The other is caused by fan-made events.

Fan-made events both exist and don’t exist. The fan gives life to the event, but the event isn’t official/canon. The event becomes a paradox or anomaly. Monster hunters then seek to destroy it.


Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Adventure. What More Could You Want?

The name is Joe Rover. Gamer. Writer. Superhero. With the help of my friends, I protect Megaton City from all sorts of villains whose only desire is chaos & destruction. 

STREAMER SEASON | Dogboy Chronicles Short Tail

This story is inspired from jokes and moments during the livestreams of Blitzwinger, Katie Wilson, and Aaron Plays.215.


“Hello world and welcome to the 10th annual Livestream Day,” said George, one of the commentators. “Livestream Day is when every creative and their hyper-intelligent dog is broadcasting a livestream of one sort or another.”

Maggie, the other commentator, joined in with, “That also means it’s open season on streamers. Thousands of stream snipers and trolls have descended upon the Virtual Net in the hopes of bagging a streamer or two.”

“That’s right, Maggie,” said George. “But it means a good day if you’re a grinder. Every grinder has been hired out for today’s event. The grinder’s job, of course, will be to protect the streamer from snipers.”

Maggie smiled a little too brightly. “And how might they do that?”

“Many ways, Maggie, but the most common is the grinder will make a decoy account. The grinder will look exactly the same as the streamer, right down to the gamertag, or the grinder will squad up with the steamer and act as a human shield protecting the streamer for as long as possible.”

Meanwhile at Spydrone base camp…

I paced across the small stage; an American flag acted as the backdrop.

“Troops,” I said looking over Sally, Brain, Danny, and Bandit—my human intelligent dog, “today is Livestream Day. We’ve been hired to protect Spydrone.” Spydrone, a female-looking robot wearing a black trench coat and fedora and carrying a briefcase attached to her back, waved. “We must protect her at all costs. I won’t lie to you; it’ll be war out there, and some of us won’t make it.”

Danny gulped. Brain rolled his eyes.

“Danny!” I pointed at him suddenly causing him to jump. “You will be our decoy. You’ll dress up as Spydrone and hopefully lure many of the snipers away. Sally, Bandit, and I will act as bodyguards. Brain will remain here and act as our monitor.” My pack of friends nodded in agreement. “Everyone have proximity chat enabled? They nodded. “Are we all connected to TinCan so we can talk even when we are away from each other?” They nodded again. “Alright then; let’s do this!”

***

Streamers from all around the world arrived at the stream lobby. Sally, aka Kickbutt98, looked amazing as her avatar. Her outfit consisted of a camouflage cheerleader uniform and black war paint under her eyes. When she equipped her shock-gun, she looked even hotter.  

The host for the event appeared on the stage via a burst of log-on-light. “Welcome everyone,” he raised his hands in a greeting gesture, “to Livestream Day. To better assist you, all available bandwidth was transferred here for two hours, so you have two hours to complete your livestream.”

He cleared his throat. “And as you might guess this also makes you easier targets for the stream snipers and trolls.” He offered a quick shrug. “Oops.”

Oops, indeed.

“The livestream session,” the host pointed to a large holographic clock overhead, “begins in ten seconds. May the algorithm always be with you.” The clocked buzzed resetting to two hours. “I’m outta here.” The host vanished in another burst of light.

“Hello, web-heads,” said a streamer talking to a floating sphere that acted as the camera, “and welcome to today’s livestream. We’ll—”

BANG!

The streamer screamed as he derezzed into pixel blocks. More shots rang out from all around us.

“It’s an ambush!” I shouted.

“The host set us up!” said Sally.

“Go, go, go!” I waved.

Sally, Bandit, and I took up positions as we ushered Spydrone out of there. One streamer got shot in the back. He fell; he held a pleading arm out to everyone. “Tell my viewers,” he coughed weakly, “to subscribe.” He collapsed into pixels.

Explosions hit around us as I tried to plot the safest course. Suddenly, a sniper dropped from their position in a tree. She aimed her rifle at Spydrone. “End of line, streamer,” she said.


We’ll be right back after these messages.

The adventures of Joe and his friends continue in the Dogboy Chronicles. The Dogboy Chronicles is a multiverse of sci-fi action and adventure for young adults. The book series is available at select retailers. Paperback copies are available at Amazon.

And now back to the story.


Vroooom!!

A yellow car came out of nowhere and smashed into the sniper derezzing them. Time slowed for a moment as I saw Danny, dressed as Spydrone, behind the wheel; he gave us a thumbs-up before disappearing down the path with a swarm of motorcycles, hover vehicles, and jet pack riders in pursuit.

A few feet away, we rested near a park bench. Bandit, as Silent-Paw—his ninja-dog avatar, sniffed out the area. He gave us a head nod to indicate it was clear. Sally and I caught our breath while Spydrone began her intro.

“Thanks for asking me to come along,” said Sally. She leaned back in the bench resting her arms on the backrest and staring into the sky.

I was leaning forward resting my face in my hands. “Sure,” I said, lowering my hands. “You’re a great gamer and fighter, why wouldn’t I invite you? You’re also my friend.”

She rested a hand on my shoulder; my face flushed. “I’m serious; not a lot of guys would let a girl—”

“Wait,” I said. I stood. “Something’s wrong.”

Sally stood too. “You’re right. It’s much too quiet.” She scanned the area. “Joe! RPG!”

A rocket-missile whistled as it shot towards us like a bat with a grudge. We gathered around Spydrone.

“Barrier!” I said.

A bubble appeared around us as the missile hit. We ran for it using the blast’s smoke as cover. Soon, we were out of cover; bullets started pinging around us.

“This week’s theory,” said a nearby education-entertainment streamer. He stood before a chalkboard with a crudely drawn elephant, “will be on how the elephant in Epoch’s Curse was in fact an alien lifeform.”

Team Spydrone took cover behind the chalkboard. The streamer stopped speaking; he leaned around the chalkboard so he could address us. “Excuse me, I’m trying to tear apart an award-winning movie so that I can earn a few coin in ad revenue.”

Three shots hit the chalkboard and the streamer dove behind the chalkboard. More shots came from the trees, bushes, and I could hear incoming vehicles.

“Hey!” shouted a new voice, which drew everyone’s attention. A streamer wearing ripped jeans, a denim jacket, and sunglasses waved his arms. “I’m doing a charity livestream for the BLT Foundation. For every $1,000 donated, you get a free shot at me!”

The air filled with the sounds of thwips as money bags materialized next to the streamer. His donation counter jumped to $3 million. The next sound was thousands of gunshots. A moment later, the charity streamer had more holes than Swiss cheese.

“Worth it,” he groaned before derezzing.

“Jeffery!” shouted Spydrone. “No!!”

“We need to go,” I said putting a gentle hand on her shoulder. “We can’t let his sacrifice go in vain.”

She nodded, and we were on the run again. We passed by two streamers standing by a sign attached to a tree. A sniper stood with his rifle aimed at them. One of the streamers, a blue skinned humanoid, ripped the sign off the tree. Underneath was another sign saying, “Sweats Season.”

“Sweats season,” said the streamer.

The other streamer; a sweat dressed in tights, headband, and leg warmers, pulled the sign off. He pointed at the sign. “Streamer season.”

“Sweats season,” said the streamer pulling down the sign.

“Streamer season,” said the sweat.

“Sweats season.”

“Streamer season.”

“Sweats season,” said the streamer.

The sweat streamer pointed the sniper’s rifle at himself. “Sweats season.”

The streamer jerked the sniper’s rifle back towards himself. “I’m sick of arguing with you! It’s streamer season!” He faced the sniper. “Now, fire!”

The sniper shrugged then fired.

POP!

The fooled streamer glanced down at the hole in his chest. “Dang it,” he said before falling into a pile of pixels.

The other streamer, the sweat/try-hard, chuckled for a moment. The sniper turned his rifle on him. “Uh-oh,” said the sweat.

Both took off with the sweat jumping to avoid each rifle shot.

A man in a business suit logged in right in front of our group. He held up a hand in the “stop” gesture. We screeched to a halt. He presented a badge. “I’m from the Internet Censorship and Protocol Department. I’m afraid we cannot allow this to continue. This level of violence is not suitable for this target audience.” He reached inside his jacket seemingly to put away his badge; but instead, he pulled out an oversized mallet. “This, however, is appropriate levels of violence. Death to the streamer!”

He swung. I jumped forward activating my power gloves. A quick-time event activated as we fought for the mallet.

X, X, X, X, X… I thought as the game responded with flashes to my “button mashing” input.

I won the duel and wrestled the mallet free from the censor. I bonked him on the head sending him back to whatever log-in spawn point he came from.

It was time to run again. Sally, Bandit, Spydrone, and I panted as we made our way across the map. Spydrone then slowed.

“I have a donation,” she said.

“Don’t respond,” I said. “It’s a trap!”

“I have to,” she said. She stopped and addressed the camera sphere. “Thanks for the $10 donation, XMonke. I really—”

BANG!


We’ll be right back after a quick word from our sponsor.

Please consider following Joe Rover at Amazon or Smashwords for updates on book releases.

And we’re back.


The shot came from the bushes. Spydrone vanished. Sally, Bandit, and I looked at the ground as the sniper leapt out from their hiding spot; they pumped the air in victory.

Spydrone then reappeared.

“Whaaaaa?” we all said.

Spydrone blinked a couple times, confused by our reactions. “What happened? My Internet lagged.”

Sally and I glanced at each other then back at Spydrone. “That’s the first time I’ve seen lag save a life,” I said.

The sniper kicked the ground in frustration; steam came out of their ears. A moment later, we were surrounded by vehicles of all kinds. A gang of stream snipers exited the vehicles. One shot the sniper who failed instantly derezzing them. The gang parted so a figure in a dark cowboy suit could step forward. He had a five o’clock shadow and chewed on a toothpick. We instantly recognized him as theRezzmaker, the most notorious stream sniper in the land.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He pointed to Spydrone.

“Wh-wh-why mm-m-me…Why me?” said Spydrone.

theRezzmaker flicked away the toothpick. “Because you said you left the crusts on your peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. That ain’t natural.” He cracked his neck. “And with you as the last streamer standing, I’ll have my third in a row Livestream Day victory.”

He signaled his crew with his head. They equipped their weapons. They took aim.

“Not even this pathetic group of grinders can save you,” said theRezzmaker. “Ready, aim…”

“Wait!” said Spydrone.

“What is it?” growled theRezzmaker.

“An ad is playing.”

The crew lowered their weapons; theRezzmaker relaxed. We saw a holographic message informing us that three non-skippable ads were playing.

theRezzmaker groaned. “MyVideo gets greedier every day.”

Finally, the ads ended. theRezzmaker’s crew raised their weapons. “Ready,” said theRezzmaker. “Aim. Fffff…”

The crew and theRezzmaker moved in slow motion.

“What…is…hap…pen…ning?” said theRezzmaker painfully slow.

Brian’s voice came over TinCan. “That would be me. I am currently spamming the stream like Danny during March Madness.”

Sally looked to me. “Brain’s still here? I would have thought he’d be distracted with some new invention by now.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Honestly, I forgot he was even here.”

Brain continued, after a slight insulted grumble. “My spamming is slowing then down for now. It won’t be long before the moderators boot me.”

Sally and I nodded to each other.

I jumped into the air with my power gloves raised; I slammed back into the ground with a shockwave attack. The sniper crew flew into the air…slowly and fell back even slower. It was kind of fun listening to their slow motion, “Whoa!” While the crew were still airborne, Sally used her bow and arrow to take out the foes. Each dissolved into pixels before they hit the ground.

Sally and I were about to do a victory high-five when we turned around.

“You think you’re pretty clever with that little trick,” said theRezzmaker. Where’d he come from? He started to reach for his pistol. “I’ve bested the best. I will not be taken down by a couple punks and a puppy dog.” Bandit huffed. theRezzmaker had his hand on his gun. “I am the greatest stream sniper the world has ever known. You are just grinders. I have—”

Tzzzttt.

theRezzmaker jerked around like fish on land. I glanced to my side. Sally pointed her shock-gun. Smoke trailed off the gun’s muzzle. “He talks too much,” she said. She blew way the smoke.

“Congratulations!” said a disembodied voice that sounded similar to the host. “You’ve survived! All the snipers have been defeated! And you have a whole two minutes to finish your stream.”

Spydrone looked panicked for a moment but then became a professional again. “I hope everyone enjoyed today’s stream. Don’t forget if you want to show support for my channel, you can become a member or subscribe. I’d also like to thank Joe Rover and his friends for protecting me during this stream; they were awesome—especially Sally Pine, go girl power!” Sally raised her arm in a half-heart fist pump. Join me for tomorrow’s stream where I’ll show you how to use duct tape to keep intruders from using vents to move around your base. Bye for now.”

Copyright Joe Rover 2021. All rights reserved.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading.

THE JOURNEY | Dogboy Chronicles Short Tail

Day 1

Alas, it is time to go. I must journey to a far-off place to learn at the feet of the master of viral and meme content. Hopefully, I will return with the knowledge to make my content more engaging. The trip will be harrowing and fraught with danger…but at least it has Wi-Fi.

Day 2

I’ve boarded the ship bound to Icon Island. The waves continually beat against the bow of our ship. The never-ending up and down of the ocean might stymie others, but my stomach is much more…

Excuse me a moment.

*sounds of vomiting*

Day 3

With the waves calming, I journeyed above deck with the other passengers. They gathered above to breathe in the sea air and enjoy the sunshine. The ship was crowded with beings of all shapes and sizes; and like me, these passengers were on their own adventure.

I don’t know what horrors await us.

“Last call for tonight’s bingo session!” shouted one of the cruise workers.

Day 4

Bingo was a bust. The little old lady from Pasadena won the pot. The lizard man from New York City seemed especially vexed.

Once again, the waves beat against our helpless ship.

KkkttTT!

“Ready the wave control torpedoes!” ordered the captain via the ship’s PA system.

Yes, it is dark times ahead. I see no hope insight.

“The captain,” announced a worker through the PA system, “would like to remind everyone that tonight’s all-you-can-eat buffet has been cancelled.”

I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.

Day 5

The torpedoes used to control the waves and calm the sea failed. Now, a storm threatens the ship. The waters have groan more intense. Everything that isn’t nailed down flops and slides out of control. The winds howl and lightning fills the sky with aerial fire.

Why is the floor wet?

Day 6

Somehow, we survived the storm and the trials of the sea. We finally reached Icon Island where the crew generously helped me disembark.

*BOOT!*

“And stay off, fleabag!” shouted the worker. “This is why we don’t allow Supers onboard! They’re a jinx!”

As I emptied my mouth of a mountain of sand, the cruise ship sped off as fast as it could.

I knew I shouldn’t have participated in this morning’s round of Mutant in Our Mist. Ricky Redd sussed me out immediately.

Day 7

I checked in at the resort.

“I have a ten o’clock appointment with the Viral Master.”

The clerk nodded. “He is expecting you.”

“I should hope so. I have an appointment.”

Day 8

I finally met with the Viral Master, a wise old man with white hair and beard. He dressed in blue jeans, a layered t-shirt, and sunglasses which hid his wrinkled eyes.

“In order to make viral posts and grow your online community, you must first hunt the animals of this land,” he said. “Return to me when you have three boar tusks, a chicken feather, and the wing of a bat.”

I groaned. “I hate fetch quests.”

“Why, young werewolf? You are so good at them.”

Days 9-11

I spent most of my time trying to track down and capture the boars, chicken, and bat. It was not easy among the mud and seemingly ever-present rain. And the place looked so much more pleasant when I first arrived.

Day 12

I returned to the Viral Master with the items and three layers of caked-on mud.

“Excellent work,” he said. “Although, I thought werewolves were better hunters.”

I growled. “Keep talking and you’ll be much more spiritual.” I sighed. “What was the purpose of this?”

“To become a viral hit, you must have the tenacity and ferocity of a boar, the power to overcome your fears, and the strength to fly though you’ll be called names by trolls and their kind.”

“And you couldn’t have just told me this?”

“It is better to learn things in your heart then to be told them. Plus, I needed you to do my shopping. Care for some bat-wing stew?”

“Eh, no thanks.”

“Then your training is complete. All the trials you have faced coming here have strengthened your resolve. You also have a story of you being a complete idiot. Ha! Coming all this way to train! What a silly idea!” The Master slapped me on the back. “Everyone loves a post where the person acts silly or stupid.”

I slapped my forehead. “So…how do I get back home? I got kicked off the ship.”

“That’s your problem, kiddo.”

Copyright Joe Rover 2021. All rights reserved.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading!

The Street is Lava | Dogboy Chronicles Short Tail


“This is Sally Pine reporting live for WAG News. I’m here with the driver of the car that’s been dangling over the edge of Wackmore Bridge for nearly six hours.”

Danny turned his head towards the driver’s side window so that his Omni-Cuff camera could record what he saw. The driver, a college-age male with a baseball cap and Van Dyke mustache, waved. Danny returned his view to Sally.

“Mr. Brinks,” said Sally.

“Call me ‘John.’ Mister is my father.”

“John, you’ve been hanging here for almost six hours…”

“Five hours, forty-nine minutes, and sixteen seconds, but who’s counting.”

“…what has been going through your mind?” Sally finished.

“Hmm…” John tapped his chin a couple times. “Not much. It’s kind of boring actually.”

Sally wanted to make sure she was hearing things correctly. “Boring?”

“Sure, the first hour or two, I was terrified, but after some time the adrenaline wears off. Afterwards, I read some books, watched a movie, and beat some Russian at Chess: Battle Royale.”

Danny switched the view back to Sally so she could ask her next question. “Any idea why it has taken rescue workers so long?

John yawned then shook his head like he was fighting off sleep. “Probably has something to do with the lava.”

The video zoomed in on Sally; she raised an eyebrow. “Lava?”

John pointed over the bridge–the best he could without causing the car to rock more. Sally and Danny peeked over the edge. Orange-red lava bubbled and popped below.

Danny kept his eyes on the lava so his camera could continue recording the street full of lava. “What do you know?” he said. “There is lava.”

“But why is there lava?” asked Sally.

John leaned back in his seat and turned his eyes to the sky. “The police said a semi carrying lava for Vulcan Labs overturned.”

“Why would someone be shipping lava?” asked Sally.

Danny didn’t break eye contact with the driver but did answer Sally. “I think Vulcan Labs is owned by Hephaestus.” 

“Oh,” said Sally feeling foolish for not knowing. “Never mind then.”

Hephaestus, the Olympian smithing god, was used to working inside a volcano. Made sense he’d want some lava in order to feel at home.

Sally was about to ask another question, but the sounds of the crowd breaking into cheers interrupted her. Danny and Sally turned towards the sound. The Dogcar, a white and purple vehicle that looks like a dog in car form, rolled to a stop. The gull-wing doors opened; I stepped out. The crowd cheered with whoops and wows followed by chants of “Dogboy! Dogboy!”

I approached Sally and Danny. The claws on my feet, which stick out from my black boots, clicked on the bridge’s concreate.

“What kept you?” asked Sally.

“I had to stop Blackfeather from stealing mail,” I said.

“Why on Earth would he steal mail?” asked Sally.

“He didn’t want to pay for the Cheese of the Month Club.”

Danny chose a groan from his Omni-Cuff digital sound board. 

I walked over to the car’s bumper.

“What’s up, dawg?” said the driver.

I knelt to pick up the car.

“Remember to lift with your legs,” said Danny.

I grabbed the bumper and let the telekinetic energy flow into the car. Golden lightning traveled down my arms and into the vehicle. The lightning was barely visible as it surrounded the car. I lifted the vehicle. It wasn’t heavy, but it wasn’t light either. It was like lifting a bed mattress.

The phantasmic/psychic energy kept the car from falling apart under its own weight or from gravity.

I sat the car down. The cheering and applauding of the crowd drowned out the creaking and groaning of the car as the telekinetic energy faded from it and “normal” physics took hold.

“Thanks, Dogboy,” said the driver as medical workers assisted him.

“Yes, good job, Dogboy,” said Sally trying to stay professional but also wanting to cheer. “Now, what are you going to do about the lava?”

I glanced towards the edge of the bridge. “Does anyone have an ice pack?”

Copyright Joe Rover 2021. All rights reserved.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading!


The latest DOGBOY CHRONICLES book “The Lost Files: Episode 1” releases April 27.

Check out my links page for where you can order a copy!

Superhero Yoga | Dogboy Chronicles Short Tail

The Clubhouse, the base of the International League of Super-Transbeings located on Freedom Isle…

A group of heroes milled around chatting. I stood between Glop and Turbo waiting for the class to begin.

Boo-whip!

The hologram of the instructor appeared before us. He wore a brightly colored unitard with a headband and leg warmers. His hair poked over the edges of the headband.

“Alright, heroes,” he said in a voice that should only be reserved for fitness instructors and car salespeople, “let’s begin today’s hero yoga poses. I hope everyone remembered to warm-up before class.”

I doubted anyone warmed-up; my suspicions were confirmed by the amount of muttering, whistling, and loss of eye contact.

“First,” said the instructor, “the landing pose.”

We all got low with one leg out and one fist on the ground. We held our other arm straight up.

“Now, the explosion power walk.”

We puffed out our chests, raised our heads, and walked in place slowly.

“Remember not to look back at the explosion,” said the fitness instructor. “Next, the up, up, and away.”

We held one arm skyward, bent the opposite leg up towards our chest, and rested the corresponding arm next to it with our fists clenched. We looked skyward.

“Excellent. The classic.”

We stood straight and put our hands on our hips.

“The team power pose.”

Glop and I flanked Turbo. He stood stiff with his arms stretched but slightly away form his legs. Glop and I stood with our backs to him; we raised one arm and one leg trying to make ourselves look like lightning bolts.

“The epic crossover team up,” said the instructor.

Everyone in the class stood in a circle back to back. We made various poses as the camera (aka the instructor) moved around us in a circle.

“Tighten up your stomach, Ripper,” said the instructor. The young hero sucked in his gut.

The hologram returned to his position at the front of the class. “The reveal.”

We pretended to rip open our shirts. We puffed out our chests and arched our backs.

“Powerful action pose.”

We threw a hook punch like we were hitting a villain’s face; but instead of relaxing, we held the pose.

“Heroes together.”

As one, we punched the sky with a heroic, “YEAH!”

“Victory pose,” said the instructor. 

We placed one hand on our hip then flexed the other arm and smiled for the camera.

“And finally, the Easter egg.”

We pretended to hold a car over our heads and smash the front bumper into a boulder.

The instructor clapped overly enthusiastically as the class relaxed. “Excellent work today, everyone! Don’t forget to practice your poses at home. We’ve got to stay fit for our battle against evil. See you all Thursday!”

The instructor hologram vanished with another boo-whip; the students immediately started chatting again.

Copyright Joe Rover 2021. All rights reserved.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading!

The Adventures Continue in the Dogboy Universe!

Action, adventure, and sci-fi fantasy await within the pages of the Dogboy Chronicles.

Join Joe Rover and his friends as they protect their hometown from the forces of evil…and the forces of daily life.

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