Welcome back to Motivation Monday.  Congratulations to all of you who participated in NaNoWriMo.  Whether you finished 16,000 or 160,000, you have decided to apply yourself to writing.  That is why I keep this contest alive.

Anthology News:

The lineup for the first Edition of Song Stories is nearly full.  I’ve received enough engaging material that I have enough to start another anthology which I will announce shortly.  For those of you who haven’t heard back yet, don’t fret.  I’ve just been very busy and I’m still making my final decisions.  I appreciate your patience.

Now, on to what you’ve all been waiting for, this week’s contest.

I don't care if what you right is possible as long as it is engaging.  Remember conflict, response, resolution!

The Judge

Our last winner NaNoWriMo Municipal Liaison Rebekah Postupak.  A rookie turned veteran who has already won this competition a number of times.

Thanks and welcome to our judge.

The Prompt

Why bother bringing logic into this now?
  1. The story must start from the prompt.  This means the prompt must be the
    first words in the story.
  2. No more than 500 words (not including the
    prompt).  No less than 100 words.
  3. Any genre (in fact an
    unexpected genre will get you more points.)
  4. Entries must be submitted
    by Tuesday Noon EST
  5. The winner of each week's competition will be
    invited to judge the following week and post the winner's badge similar to the
    one shown here.
  6. If your story would be rated R or NC-17 in a movie, please post a note to that effect at the beginning of your entry.
  7. Have fun!

Sample Entry

System Malfunction
By Wakefield Mahon

"Why bother bringing logic into this now?"

"I don’t know, perhaps because I’m a machine!"

"Look at your skin.  Listen to yourself, talk.  You were a machine before but you are definitely human now."

UR12 swiveled his head, still uncomfortable in his new body.  “That is not possible.  The limits of artificial intelligence are such that even simulation of intuitive decision-making is unreliable.”

“How do you feel?”

“I don’t feel.  I already told you I’m a machine.”

Eliza closed her eyes and touched his face.  “How do you feel?”

“I’m… I’m scared.”

“It’s okay; everything is going to work itself out.”

“How can you be so calm about this?”

“To be honest, I’m not all that calm. The idea that I fell in love with you or you fell in love with me and somehow this happened
doesn’t make sense.   I’m expecting any minute now to wake up and find myself in the psych ward.”  Eliza ran her hands over his face and through his curly brown hair. “Until that happens, it’s just you and me Pinocchio.”

“My name is not Pinocchio.”

Eliza’s eyes twinkled.  “Well you are definitely a real boy… or rather man now.”

“I don’t like feeling this primary cabin is malfunctioning.”

Eliza placed her hand on his chest and grinned.  She lay her head against the warmth and listened to the rapid patter of his heart.  “You are not malfunctioning, you are feeling.”

“What kind of feeling is this supposed to be?  I feel... ill.”

“I could spend a week trying to explain it to you,” Eliza leaned up and kissed him deeply, “but it would be easier to show you.”

275 ineligible words.
Robin Abess
12/3/2012 01:42:20 am

Life After Death

“Why bother bringing logic into this now?” Rhonda’s voice shook, as she looked at Brent.

“Because there’s nothing else to do,” was his emotionless reply. “The facts are these – we had a car accident. It appears that we died, but awoke…differently abled. Not only from the Living, but also from each other.”

Damn him and his pure logic! Why couldn’t he get upset about any of this? She got sick and tired of everything being facts and logic all the time with him. That was part of the reason she’d been planning to break up with him on this trip.

“Are you certain we’re dead?”

He raised an eyebrow condescendingly. “Well, considering that I brought down a full grown wolf that was attacking you and snapped its spine, and you ate that hiker, we’re certainly not ‘alive’ in the proper sense.”

Rhonda had to admit he was right. The wolf had come out of nowhere, leaping at her, and as she screamed, Brent had reached out without even thinking and grabbed the beast, slamming it down over his knee. She had jumped when she heard its spine crack. Brent had to slap her, to stop her screaming. The hiker had been a total surprise. She had been starving and had come about the young woman resting by the side of the trail. Before she had even realized what she was doing, she had leapt on the girl and buried her teeth in her face. While the girl’s screams echoed off the mountains, Rhonda had held her in place with superhuman strength and eaten her alive. She finally quit making noise after Rhonda had torn out her throat with her nails. Even then, the young woman had continued to thrash for a good five minutes. Rhonda had left the bones picked clean and scattered.

“I’m wondering what other abilities I might have,” Brent continued. “I’m going to try something.” He closed his eyes, concentrating, and his form wavered. Claws sprouted from his fingers and fur covered his body. His eyes glowed red as he looked at her, and grinned, showing a mouthful of sharp teeth. In a few minutes, he shifted back into Brent again.

“Amazing…” she murmured. She was becoming hungry again, and it was hard to think straight. She sniffed the air. Brent smelled amazing, suddenly. Like her favorite apple pie, and she found herself drooling. Wiping her chin, she moved towards him. He was too busy trying out different shapes to pay attention to her, until she was upon him. He was strong, but with her new abilities, she was stronger. Flipping him onto his stomach, she bit deeply into his spine, causing his movement to cease. He shape-shifted beneath her, but without a spine, no matter what form he took, he couldn’t move.

Smiling, Rhonda flipped him over, looking down at him. “Brent, I have something to tell you…” She plunged a fist into his chest, pulling out his heart. “We’re through,” she said, taking a bite.

500 words {not including title}
@ Angelique_Rider

12/3/2012 04:37:50 am


“Why bother bringing logic into this now?” Craig scratched his stubbly chin casually.

Peter felt his body tense as he turned to his hulking companion with a clench toothed smile.

“Excuse me? The Great Evil is months away from escaping and our plan to reseal it just failed! We need a new plan now!”

“Well, yeah,” The warrior shrugged his plate mailed shoulders. “But your first plan was based on faith, not logic. All I’m saying is, why not believe in the girl?”

“Why not?!” The bookish cleric shrilled. “Why not? I’ll tell you why not! Because she is a heathen whore! If she’d had the basic morality to save her virginity for the sacred bonds of marriage she could have performed the ritual and we wouldn’t be in this situation!”
Craig sighed heavily and crossed his arms with a weary shake of his head.

“You know, Peter, even I’m starting to get really tired of you harping on her about that. It’s not like it’s her fault you assumed she was a virgin.”

Peter threw his boney hands up in the air.

“It was a perfectly reasonable assumption! Who has sex at that age? Tell me! Who, besides that slut, has had intercourse that young?”

“Everybody but you, buddy,” Craig patted Peter’s shoulder. “And I suppose maybe some of the other clergy… Though I can definitely tell you there are clerics who really know how to get freaky.”

Groaning, Peter ineffectually tried to swat away Craig’s meaty hand. Clutching his head in both hands the crimson robed priest began rocking and mumbling in place.

“Hey!” A higher voice chimed, “I’ve detected a feminine presence with powers similar to mine five days north east of here!”

Peter raised his eyes hopefully, “Is she a virgin? Precisely between the ages of eighteen and nineteen years?”

The sorceress, Miranda, crossed her arms under her ample assets.

“I can’t tell from here. Do you have a better lead?”

Peter bit his knuckles nervously without responding.

“Well, I think we should check it out.” Craig smiled broadly.

Miranda bit her lip, “We should hurry though. I also detected agents of The Great Evil heading that direction and they’re nearly a day ahead of us.”

“Then there’s no time to waste!” Peter snapped back to attention.

“All aboard!” Craig grinned, scooping Peter and Miranda onto his shoulders and began running north east.

397 words

12/3/2012 10:01:16 am

Bunny and Brave Dino

“Why bother bringing logic into this now?” Bunny asked as her floppy ears swayed in the misty breeze. She kept her hand cupped under her small triangular nose to prevent the raindrops from going up into her nostrils. “I mean, look at yourself.”

Rain drops fell upwards from the grass and pelted the surface of the orange body of water hovering in the white sky. Brave Dino looked at his reflection in the rippling water and sighed. His small furry stick-like legs trembled and threatened to buckle under the weight of his thick and scaly upper body.

“There’s a plan for all of this,” he said, scratching the end of his nose with a claw. “There is a pattern to the madness. Even there, look!”

Bunny’s gaze turned to the sky where stripes of colors were appearing, one after the other. First, red appeared then orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and finally violet. The resulting multi-colored bar shone even brighter than the red sun wearing dark sunglasses.

“Why those colors?” Brave Dino continued. “Is it a code? A glitch in the system? If we could assign a numerical value to each color, I think we could –“

“Those are just random colors,” Bunny interrupted. “We are just pawns in a game beyond our understanding. Do we need to look for meaning? Can’t we just be happy? Just the two of us?”

Brave Dino’s eyes stayed fixed to shining bar until Bunny’s furry paw wrapped around his bony fingers and squeezed tightly. She greeted him with a smile when he turned his gaze away from the sky.

“You’re right,” he said. “I just get caught up in the mysteriousness of it all. I was so lonely before that yellow cylinder outlined you in the sky and you fell to me. I’m sorry. None of it matters as long as we have each other.”

312 words

12/3/2012 12:12:08 pm

“Why bother bringing logic into this now?”

She had a point in asking. What we were doing wasn’t logical. Wasn’t rational. Her spouse was one of my best friends. I’d known him since high school, 35 years ago. My spouse was one of her friends. They’d known each other since first grade. Lived in the same neighborhood. Played together all the time.

I’d never slept with anyone but my wife. She’d never slept with anyone but her husband. And there we were. In her home. Alone. Just the two of us. We’d started with a kiss. And from there, we wound up on a towel, tossed on the living room carpet. Our clothes scattered through the room. I had to admit. I didn’t mind taking her clothes off at all. And I didn’t mind her taking of mine. And then we’d explored each other. Had we ever.

“You said you always wondered what I was like,” she reminded me.

“Yeah. I did.”

“And I always wanted to make your day,” she reminded me.

“Yeah. You mentioned that.”

She smiled. “We’re two consenting adults. Nothing wrong with what we’ve done.”

I sighed. “I know. But...”

“But what? Why do you say that?”

I shrugged. “It just feels all wrong now.”

She wrapped her arms around my neck. Planted a big kiss on me. There was lots of skin contact, of course. I mean. We were both naked. When she came up for air, she looked me up and down, and said, with a smile, “It doesn’t look to me like that felt all wrong to you.”

She had a point. I knew that. What we were doing that day wasn’t something that made sense. It flew in the face of everything I’d ever learned about how life was supposed to be. All the voices in my head were screaming at me, “This is wrong! This is so wrong! And I knew there’d be hell to pay if either spouse found out.

But, damn. Everything we’d done felt so damn right.

356 Words

12/3/2012 12:41:19 pm

The following story is my entry for both #MotivationMonday and #MondayMixer, so it is also posted on my blog at http://wp.me/p24aJS-4C

Why bother bringing logic into this now? It couldn't be of any further use to him.

He sat on the veranda of his spaceport retreat, mindlessly consuming the ravioli prepared for him by a fatuous chef with regressive taste and indiscriminate plating. Other times, he'd venture down to the Laundromat and play the ocarina to the rhythm of the clothes' tumbling in the dryers. Still others, he'd sit next to a vine-covered tree in the park and bellow out Tarzan yells for hours while passersby just shook their heads.

There was no telling which days would be spaceport days, which would be Laundromat days, which would be park days or where (or, for that matter, who) he might be in between.

No. Logic wasn't going to help - not any more. His mind had long since departed and the chasm between what he saw and reality was just too great.

150 words

12/3/2012 05:26:34 pm

“Why bother bringing logic into this now, Jess?”

“Don’t worry,” I said, shaking my head. “Not like it’s going to penetrate that thick skull of yours, Duncan. Mostly, I just needed to hear myself say it out loud.”

“You realize that this afternoon he killed a deer with his crossbow, yanked the steel arrow out of its skull and put it back into his pack.”

“Seems like a smart move to me. Saved your life doing it and saved the arrow to spend again another day. Not to mention bringing dinner for the rest of the camp.”

He took a step back, as if I was contagious. “You’re not who I thought you were, are you?”

I turned and headed towards Faraday’s firepit.

He looked up, a strange smile tugging at his mouth. “You ever eat possum, girl?”

I shook my head. My mind rebelled but my stomach was growling.

He handed me a chuck of greasy meat on a stick and I took a bite.

“Go on now. Sit yourself down and enjoy.”

The sky turned every color under the sun before giving up the ghost and letting night slide beneath her technicolor underskirt. Nights like this made it easy to forget what had happened, how the world we’d known no longer existed.

He looked over at me and said, “So, you here for the food or the fight?”

“Pretty much I’m here because I had the dumb luck to survive.”

He smiled, like I’d said something funny. “That’s not dumb luck. You’re a survivor. Question was, why are you here at my campfire? Because I always got food? Or because you want to learn to hunt?”

He wasn’t much to look at. Not at the moment anyway, all covered in blood and dirt and sweat after hunting. But I’d seen him come up out of the river after bathing a couple times, and those blue eyes weren’t his only selling point. “Well, I do like a man who kills and cooks his own food.”

“Fair enough. So, you want me to teach you?”

I fidgeted in my chair. “Yes, but I don’t have anything to trade for it.”

He got up, rounded the fire, and crouched beside me. “No, you don’t, and I wouldn’t take what you’re about to offer.”

“But I’d give it,” I said, my voice a whisper.

His hand cupped my chin. “Nowadays everything is about survival, Jess. But this, me and you, it has to be about more than comfort and warmth.”

I put my forehead against his. “So, what? Is there a post-apocalypse dating etiquette handbook that I should know about?”

He chuckled. “All I’m saying is, don’t stay here and keep me company because I’m the safest bet, but because -”

I interrupted him with a kiss because chemistry is the only kind of logic that makes sense in this crazy world. Well, that and a good possum stew.

- - - - -
487 words / @bullishink

12/3/2012 09:56:21 pm

“Why bother bringing logic into this now? You’ve shown a serious LACK of logic for some time now.”

Dottie was going to punch him. She had been doing so well handling her anger issues and now it was going to be broken because her companion was seriously getting on her nerves. She drew a breath in and let it out slowly. “I told you before, if we don’t do this now, they’re going to get away. And I’ve already been yelled out for all the chaos that they’ve done so far.”

“And that is my problem how?”

Oh yeah. She was imagining wrapping her fingers around his neck and strangling. “Because, if I get stripped of my rank. YOU get sent back to your home. And I believe you said that even I was better than that.”

There was silence in her head for once. It was rare but she could get her soul companion to shut up. Not often but it did happen.

“Fine, but try not to die. I want to actually survive this.”

“Trust me, I don’t want to be stuck with you either.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You can’t shut up about how terrific you are.” Dottie went to the back of the beat up hatchback care and opened it up, pulling weapons from their compartments.

“I am fantastic. You’re lucky you got me. Other Necromancers would be thrilled to have a soul companion like me because of the knowledge that I’ve achieved back home. I think that you have bettered yourself for having been chosen for me.”

“Yes, because it has nothing to do with the fact that you would be torn to shreds if you were back home.”

“Not very likely. You don’t seem to realize how powerful I am.”

Dottie tilted her head and slid the .45 into the holster while staring at the rundown building. She let the demon ramble on while she saw movement shifting behind the boards of the window. There was a flash and the voice cut off as she was pulled behind the car as the spot that she had been standing before was on fire.

“Looks like they really are rolling out the welcome mat.” She loaded a clip and took the safety on. “Do you know how many are in there?”

There was silence but she could feel him moving, stretching through the ether to peer.

“Five. One watching over the boy. One finishing the circle. The rest are watching you. You better hurry if you expect him to survive.”

“I know that. Stop reminding me. Pull me.” She pulled the cloak she was wearing around her.

There was the feeling of being pulled forcefully through what equated to thick jello by way of her rib cage. Time warped and she popped into the room where the circle was almost completed, there was a very scared young boy and two cultists who didn’t think she would make it that far.

It was do or die.

500 words

12/3/2012 11:16:03 pm

“Why bother bringing logic into this now? We should scrap the whole project. Move on and try again elsewhere.”

“Perhaps that wouldn’t be necessary if they had tried logic in the first place. Whoever gave the go-ahead to fund Artaxia’s pet project was insane.”

“Well, you know that story, right?”

“What? What story? There’s a story?”

“Oh, yeah. Markle was the one who gave the pets the green light.”

“No! Markle? But isn’t he…?”

“Yeah, but that’s not the best part. I heard from Closter that he overheard Stynta saying that Markle funded it out of earmarked funds rather than going through proper channels. Research and Design would have tabled this idea before it ever got off its feet!”

“But weren’t he and Artaxia…?”

“Most definitely, which is where the whole scandal started. She used her influence to move her pet project to the front of the line – ahead of projects that had been planned for years – and somehow managed to get teams sent out to the middle of nowhere before it all blew up in her face. Now they would have to scrap the entire investment to pull us all back.”

“So why don’t they? The project is a complete failure…”

“Ah, but they can either pay the minimal upkeep fee of a few salaries and materials, or they can ship the whole mission home – including all our infrastructure, because we couldn’t leave any of it here – and that would cost another hefty sum. They’re just going to keep taking the path of least resistance…or, at least, the path that seems like it won’t cost them as much.”

“But when the mess here blows up…”

“They’ll hope they’re not sitting in the decision making seat anymore. Pass that blame to the next idiot in charge. They don’t care.”

“If they’re not going to bring us home, at least they could send someone to figure out why nothing works! The brain scans are faulty, the memory wipes are erratic, and our probes are inconsistent. There has to be something we have that can figure out why our tech is being rejected by the pets. We haven’t had a single successful meld in ten years!”

“And twenty years before you got here. I – One of them is waking up.”

“5 bucks he’s a Screamer.”

“You’re on! He’s definitely a Worshipper.”

“But maybe we should sedate him before he comes to, give the memory wipes less to screw up.”

“True, but where’s the fun in that? If we’re going to be stationed out here under crap conditions, at least we can enjoy the one thing amusing about the whole situation.”

The Pet stirred, scratched its shaggy hair, and focused glazed eyes upon us. Its eyes popped open and it said, “Yes! I knew it!” before passing out again.

“So…That was different.”

“What’ll we call that one?”

“A Celebrator?”

476 words


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