"I'm sorry," said the President of the National Leg Prosthetics Company. "But there's nothing I can do to help you."
"But you're the President," said David plaintively, looking up at the tall man from his wheelchair.
"Yes, but I've got a tee time in almost two hours," the man said dismissively. "I'm afraid you're on your own."
"Don't you understand?!" shouted David. "A life is at stake! One of your own employees!"
The President sighed. "Look, if it'll get you to leave ..." he sat down again.
"This is standard operating procedure for the NLPC," he explained. "We encourage all...
"Hoist the Jolly Roger, wouldn't you, old chap?"
"Righto, Cap'n," said Lieutenant Chapman. "I say, what shall we do with these old colors?"
"Tear them up, burn them, whatever."
"Cap'n, phone for you, sir," said a young deckhand.
"Ah, thank you, there's a good lad," the Captain took the phone with easy sangfroid. He listened to it for a moment before saying, "that's right, old chap, we're defecting."
"Lost my mind? Bloody well found it, sir. No pay and no shore leave? It's enough to make pirates of anyone, if I do say so meself!"
The ship began to drift...
The city of Asgoth was falling out of the sky, and there was nothing that Jorund could do to stop it. Enemy dragons spat greek fire, swarming in and around its once-grand towers. Helium vestibules melted and ruptured, and the city sunk faster and faster.
They could only save themselves. Jorund struggled with the helm of the Zephyr, trying to escape Asgoth's widening shadow. He grimly looked across the atmosphere at the enemy warship. Charin was standing on the bridge, his hands full of magic and his eyes full of hate. This wasn't the Academy anymore; things were settled in...
"If you say so," I said, feigning indifference. It was best not to commit to something that would go south in microsecond, which I suspected would happen with Jacob's escape plan.
"Let's go over it one more time," he said excitedly. "At 2100 tomorrow, I'm going to shank Billy in the kitchen. The guards will come running to take me away to solitary, like they did the last thirteen times."
"You don't have anything to shank with," I said, annoyed at his overly dramatic air. "All we're allowed are sporks made of recycled corn, or whatever this shit is." I...
There once was a man named Fernando
Who encountered a man named Orlando
They met at mid-morning
But then, without warning
They were killed by a robot commando