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Krastos, the Glue Maker
Chuck slapped his thigh. "But you wanna know the funniest thing?"
The snow-white winged unicorn across the table took a sip from the cup floating in front of her. "Enlighten me," she said.
Grabbing another pastry, Chuck laughed. "Here I am in heaven!"
She cocked her head, the pastel waterfall of her mane shifting to one side. "And why would that be funny?"
He dunked the pastry in his tea. "If you knew any of my ex-wives—or any of the other gals who've sued me over the years—you'd know how many times I've been told to go to Hell. But instead?" He waved a hand at the fern grotto surrounding them, sunlight flitting green and cool through the leaves and the sweet-smelling flowers on the tree branches curling overhead. "Look at this place! And look at me!"
"Oh, I am, Mr. Parker." A smile stretched over her snout. "I am."
With another laugh, Chuck took a big, slow bite of the pastry so it could melt all buttery and sugary over his tongue. "I mean, I'm wearing the same suit I wore when I marched into Wells Fargo and told 'em they were gonna give me the money I needed to start my business, I'm looking just as sharp as I did back then, and I can eat crap like this again!" Tea trickled down his chin; he dabbed at it with the pastry. "If I'd've known death was gonna be like this, I would've stopped gobbling those damn pills the docs kept giving me!"
Feathers fluffing, the unicorn touched a napkin to her own chin. "You're enjoying the crap then?"
"Oh, yeah," he said around the rest of the pastry. "In fact, I used to hire only two kinds of gals at my place: fat ones 'cause they'd know the best bakeries to bring in crap for the break room, and curvy ones 'cause, well—" He swallowed and winked at her. "It's not an office without a little decor, is it?"
Her giggle sounded like little bells. "Well, you can see what my office looks like."
A big breath let him revel in the simple sensation of having his lungs back whole and healthy. "You need a few of those slave girls from the movies, y'know? Nothing but a strip of gauze covering 'em up." He blew out the breath. "I mean, that's all most of 'em wear anymore anyway. But I'm the one getting subpoenas when she's shoving her ass in my face! I mean, I'm not supposed to grab a handful of that?"
She took another sip from her cup. "It sounds nearly impossible."
Running his fingers through his hair again was another great feeling. "I mean, why'd they think I hired 'em in the first place? With those smooth blouses asking to be unbuttoned and those skirts asking to be hiked up." He leaned back in his chair. "They wanted it: I could tell just by looking."
The cup settled gently to the table. "What marvelous eyesight you must have."
He did some more breathing, the old, tight, spiky feeling starting up in his gut. "So I'd give it to 'em, and even if I married 'em later, bam! All they really wanted was my money. Settlements or alimony, didn't matter which, the lousy, rotten—"
"Yes, well." The winged unicorn sat forward. "I've heard enough. We'll be sending you back to our original series."
Chuck perked up. "Old fashioned, y'mean? Clouds and halos and harps?"
"Not exactly." That glow sprang up around her horn and smashed over him like a bucket of ice water.
"What the Hell!" he sputtered. Springing to his feet, he wiped his eyes and—
His hands. They...they looked like badly drawn cartoons...
"You'll be Krastos, the Glue Maker." She nodded. "You'll foalnap some baby ponies from Paradise Estate to boil them down, but Megan and her friends will stop you. In the process, you'll fall into your own vat, become a pile of goo with blinking eyes, and will end up in a jar on Windwhistler's desk." Her smile suddenly looked more like a knife slit. "You'll be in syndication, too, so this will happen over and over again. For all eternity."
Blinking, he stared down at himself, as flat as a paper cutout. "But I thought—"
"Did you? I certainly saw no evidence of that." Her horn flared again. "Have a nice death, Mr. Parker." And everything went black.
The snow-white winged unicorn across the table took a sip from the cup floating in front of her. "Enlighten me," she said.
Grabbing another pastry, Chuck laughed. "Here I am in heaven!"
She cocked her head, the pastel waterfall of her mane shifting to one side. "And why would that be funny?"
He dunked the pastry in his tea. "If you knew any of my ex-wives—or any of the other gals who've sued me over the years—you'd know how many times I've been told to go to Hell. But instead?" He waved a hand at the fern grotto surrounding them, sunlight flitting green and cool through the leaves and the sweet-smelling flowers on the tree branches curling overhead. "Look at this place! And look at me!"
"Oh, I am, Mr. Parker." A smile stretched over her snout. "I am."
With another laugh, Chuck took a big, slow bite of the pastry so it could melt all buttery and sugary over his tongue. "I mean, I'm wearing the same suit I wore when I marched into Wells Fargo and told 'em they were gonna give me the money I needed to start my business, I'm looking just as sharp as I did back then, and I can eat crap like this again!" Tea trickled down his chin; he dabbed at it with the pastry. "If I'd've known death was gonna be like this, I would've stopped gobbling those damn pills the docs kept giving me!"
Feathers fluffing, the unicorn touched a napkin to her own chin. "You're enjoying the crap then?"
"Oh, yeah," he said around the rest of the pastry. "In fact, I used to hire only two kinds of gals at my place: fat ones 'cause they'd know the best bakeries to bring in crap for the break room, and curvy ones 'cause, well—" He swallowed and winked at her. "It's not an office without a little decor, is it?"
Her giggle sounded like little bells. "Well, you can see what my office looks like."
A big breath let him revel in the simple sensation of having his lungs back whole and healthy. "You need a few of those slave girls from the movies, y'know? Nothing but a strip of gauze covering 'em up." He blew out the breath. "I mean, that's all most of 'em wear anymore anyway. But I'm the one getting subpoenas when she's shoving her ass in my face! I mean, I'm not supposed to grab a handful of that?"
She took another sip from her cup. "It sounds nearly impossible."
Running his fingers through his hair again was another great feeling. "I mean, why'd they think I hired 'em in the first place? With those smooth blouses asking to be unbuttoned and those skirts asking to be hiked up." He leaned back in his chair. "They wanted it: I could tell just by looking."
The cup settled gently to the table. "What marvelous eyesight you must have."
He did some more breathing, the old, tight, spiky feeling starting up in his gut. "So I'd give it to 'em, and even if I married 'em later, bam! All they really wanted was my money. Settlements or alimony, didn't matter which, the lousy, rotten—"
"Yes, well." The winged unicorn sat forward. "I've heard enough. We'll be sending you back to our original series."
Chuck perked up. "Old fashioned, y'mean? Clouds and halos and harps?"
"Not exactly." That glow sprang up around her horn and smashed over him like a bucket of ice water.
"What the Hell!" he sputtered. Springing to his feet, he wiped his eyes and—
His hands. They...they looked like badly drawn cartoons...
"You'll be Krastos, the Glue Maker." She nodded. "You'll foalnap some baby ponies from Paradise Estate to boil them down, but Megan and her friends will stop you. In the process, you'll fall into your own vat, become a pile of goo with blinking eyes, and will end up in a jar on Windwhistler's desk." Her smile suddenly looked more like a knife slit. "You'll be in syndication, too, so this will happen over and over again. For all eternity."
Blinking, he stared down at himself, as flat as a paper cutout. "But I thought—"
"Did you? I certainly saw no evidence of that." Her horn flared again. "Have a nice death, Mr. Parker." And everything went black.
Pics
Well, this one's certainly a change of pace.
Well done with constructing the conversation. It really read nicely, and I never got a sense of talking heads even though in hindsight, this piece is almost entirely dialogue. Still, I did have trouble with what I'm supposed to take away from this one.
I'm not exactly sure what the story is trying to do. I understand that it's meant to be a little disorienting, but aside from the hook there needs to be some kind of tangible payoff. As it is, I can't really read it as a comedy, because there's only one joke: God-pony (Celestia?) making snide remarks that go over Chuck's head. As a drama, I have a hard time taking Chuck seriously. I don't mean to say that I doubt people as despicable as him exist, but I find it hard to believe that these sort of scumbags would utterly lack any sort of self-awareness.
I guess, my suggestion would be to work on the mood and make it clearer to the reader how they should consume this. I can tell you've got a very distinct vision with this one, but the initial weirdness of the premise combined with my confusion at the core themes make it difficult for me to form strong feelings towards this.
Well done with constructing the conversation. It really read nicely, and I never got a sense of talking heads even though in hindsight, this piece is almost entirely dialogue. Still, I did have trouble with what I'm supposed to take away from this one.
I'm not exactly sure what the story is trying to do. I understand that it's meant to be a little disorienting, but aside from the hook there needs to be some kind of tangible payoff. As it is, I can't really read it as a comedy, because there's only one joke: God-pony (Celestia?) making snide remarks that go over Chuck's head. As a drama, I have a hard time taking Chuck seriously. I don't mean to say that I doubt people as despicable as him exist, but I find it hard to believe that these sort of scumbags would utterly lack any sort of self-awareness.
I guess, my suggestion would be to work on the mood and make it clearer to the reader how they should consume this. I can tell you've got a very distinct vision with this one, but the initial weirdness of the premise combined with my confusion at the core themes make it difficult for me to form strong feelings towards this.
This story is very well-written, but I'd prefer to see it not rest on such a tired trope. It's a tale as old as dirt and it could just as easily have been written without ponies at all. The main character's flaws are way over the top, and I don't personally enjoy the traditional cliches of Heaven or Hell. I get no satisfaction from watching a cartoonish villain being punished forever, especially for actions long-past, no matter how much the exaggerations are trying to play to that instinct.
On Writing Day:
I spent my time working on an AugieDog story that I hope to hit "Publish" on either today or tomorrow. But about 9:30PM, I decided to take a quick look at the art gallery before hitting the hay. The first picture in thumbnail looked to me like Bill Clinton. My brain flashed back to the whole "Krastos, the Glue Maker" thing from all those years ago, and like a popcorn kernel between my teeth, I suddenly had a story wedged in my head.
About an hour later, I had 760 words, and another 15 or 20 minutes got it down to its current length. If I was going to do anything else with it, I'd work on making the human more a character than a stereotype and explain why Celestia's involved in the first place, but it needs a lot more thought than I've currently got available to give it. :)
See You All Figuratively Next Time,
Mike
I spent my time working on an AugieDog story that I hope to hit "Publish" on either today or tomorrow. But about 9:30PM, I decided to take a quick look at the art gallery before hitting the hay. The first picture in thumbnail looked to me like Bill Clinton. My brain flashed back to the whole "Krastos, the Glue Maker" thing from all those years ago, and like a popcorn kernel between my teeth, I suddenly had a story wedged in my head.
About an hour later, I had 760 words, and another 15 or 20 minutes got it down to its current length. If I was going to do anything else with it, I'd work on making the human more a character than a stereotype and explain why Celestia's involved in the first place, but it needs a lot more thought than I've currently got available to give it. :)
See You All Figuratively Next Time,
Mike
>>Baal Bunny
For the record, I thought the storytelling was first-rate; I just didn't care for the story itself. Celestia is not much like this on the show (the show lacks subtlety) but I think this is precisely how many fans of the show see her, so the characterization was excellent.
For the record, I thought the storytelling was first-rate; I just didn't care for the story itself. Celestia is not much like this on the show (the show lacks subtlety) but I think this is precisely how many fans of the show see her, so the characterization was excellent.