The hero wheeled himself up the burning ramp with his strong, metallic arms, handled the squealing babe with remarkable tenderness, and put the small bundle in his lap before wheeling himself back through the rapidly collapsing corridor. The villain had hoped to dash the President's resolve with the death of her first born, but he hadn't counted on the 'Challenged Challenger' appearing to save the day.

His goal hadn't been so lofty. He'd only come to get his parking pass renewed, but stayed to save a life.

All in a day's work for the city's noblest hero.

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I'm Theo. You might remember me. I had a guest role in several 80's sitcoms. Thigns jus didn't work out for me, I guess.

I got married at one point in my career, but that didn't work out either. I still keep in touch with my Mother-In-Law, though.

Last week, she invited me over to dinner. She doesn't seem to be doing so well herself. Turns out, she'd only invited me over in a vindictive mood about my divorce from her daughter. She came at me with a knife at one point.

Well, I wrestled the knife away from her...

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The lamp wouldn't turn on. He clicked it once, and twice. He tapped the bare bulb, once he'd removed the lampshade. He followed the cord down to the wall and unplugged and plugged it back in.

He dug in the drawer in the kitchen and found a new bulb but it didn't fit, so he dug some more and found another, smaller bulb and it did fit but still the damned lamp wouldn't turn on.

At the power box, he switched the breaker, killing the power for a moment to the living room, setting the VCR back to high noon....

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I flip through my old books, looking for more of my old letters, so far I've found one to Santa, in a book about dinosaurs that I've had since kindergarten.
I find an old copy of The Bible, the same one I used to read for my Sunday school work when I was younger and still thought that people were good and that if you were good people would be too.
I find a letter to my wife in our favorite book of poetry and I wonder why she left, she never said goodbye, or that anything was wrong.
And...

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Mal says, "Don't think this'll pass, and I'll cool down and think the chill of my loneliness can be warmed by blanket of your love. Your love is a cold, salty bar rag."

"I waited by your side for months until you healed. No one else ever came to see you," cried Layla.

"Yeah, well, who asked you? Maybe I put myself in that coma for a moment of peace. Christ, you can't take a hint. And get that kid outta here. Wasn't mine, even in theory.

"And neither were you."

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The crow sat on it's perch, silently watching the moon. It wonders how far the moon is, and if it could reach it using just it's own wings. But of course it couldn't, because he was just a bird. The crow wonders what it's like to be free, and remembers it's life before it was a bird. The crow was once a happy young boy, but he was known for his many tricks. He was a mischievous boy, and he tricked one too many people in his life. Finally, he tricked a traveling wizard out of money, and the wizard...

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She cradled the faun's head as it mewed pathetically, legs shaking as it attempted to get up.
"Shh," she cooed to it softly, running her hands down it's glossy coat.
"What is it?" A small voice spoke behind her, making her turn and open up her arms to the small girl stood nervously at the edge of the clearing.
"That's a baby deer." Another voice answered, the familiar form of her husband appearing behind the small child. "It's the first one I've seen for around forty years."
"Are they from before the war?" The small girl asked as she approached...

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Oh look at the house. It has snow on the roof. Santa will be mad. How is he supposed to get down the chimney if there's snow on the roof. Wait a minute. There's no chimney. Guess Santa will have to break into the house instead.

But gol, I think we should make sure all the roofs are clear of snow for Christmas Eve. I mean, them reindeer can't enjoy snow all that much.

So anyway, Santa Claus has a disease that makes his hair fall out. He kind of looks like this: O But he has a head on...

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He ran into the room, his heart pounding, and his clothes soaking wet. The worse part was not the attempt on his life via drowning in ice water. It was not that he was probably on the verge of hypothermia like this. It was not that he had lost Labyrinth to the bottom of the lake. It was not the twitching brow and veiled contempt Solaris was expressing from him dripping water on his floors, mixed with his concern for his overall state of being, because all that could be fixed with a towel and a day of work.

No,...

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The sound reverberated through the streets. I dropped to my knees, the metal in the synth-leg clanging against the metal walkway. The bullet had entered between the third and fourth rib, penetrating the layer of inlaid titanium armour. I knew I didn't have much time left. I could feel the oil from my implants and my blood mixing and pouring down my chest.

My executioner stood before me, laser sight trained on my skull, ready to put me away for good. I had to act fast.

"Now, now, sweetie, don't do anything rash." He flashed a smile, showing off his...

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