Or: Sad Puppies Bite Back, Part IV
So, yeah, here we go again.
The cycle begins anew.
If you're someone who hasn't been enjoying these articles ... feel free to comment and tell me something you DO want to see. I've been posting Puppies every other day, so tell me what you'd want to see on those days. I'm running out of music blogs anyway. There will be a book review tomorrow.
By the way, in other news, I'm thinking of posting A Pius Legacy (book 2) for free on Kindle in the next month. So watch this space for more on that. I figure that since A Pius Man is book 1, A Pius Stand is book 3, this should be like making people want to see A New Hope and Return of the Jedi by handing out Empire Strikes Back. We'll see if that works.
But that's for later.
UNLEASH THE PUPPIES.
[SWAT comes up to a house made entirely of Lego Bricks. They hit the door with a battering ram. The door disintegrates. The SWAT team tries to charge in, but the Lego bricks act like caltrops, and hurt like a bastard. They swarm through the house until they end up in the bed room. There is The Novel Ninja, Matthew Bowman, clothed in black from head to toe, sitting in a wheelchair. He sits back, fingers steepled, perfectly calm] May I help you gentlemen?
[SWAT leader looks confused] 911 had a call of a madman waving a gun around, threatening to kill someone.
[Bowman spreads his hands to indicate the rest of the house] You obviously didn't find anyone else in the house, and I assure you I haven't been waving a gun around. I propose to you that I have been SWATted, a tactic of certain groups that involves calling in fake 911 calls upon their political adversaries, or people they merely don't like. One of the first incidents on record happened with an Erick Ericsson of Red State news, a conservative news service online. Though we really should look back on similar, older tactics that have been utilized since the dawn of...
[Bowman continues, weaving together a history of Chestertonian thought, Catholic history, Civilization IV, narrative, and, somehow, Lego. One SWAT member starts bleeding from the eyes and ears, one suffers a grand mal seizure. The others fall back, blasting occasional cover fire.]
[Bowman] ...so you had no grounds for exigent circumstances.
[Bowman waits a moment to listen for the total silence. He gives a little nod, then wheels himself over to a wall. He opens up a secret panel. Inside, there is a wheelchair that looks like it was created for Professor X, only modified by technicians from Mad Max. It is simply labeled "Convention Wheelchair."] I'll reserve you for DragonCon.
[Bowman looks to a yellow suit hanging next to the wheelchair] I'll use you next time. Maybe if I ever go to WorldCon.
Matt doesn't actually call himself "The Novel Ninja," it's just the name of his blog / business. But that doesn't stop, well, anyone, really, from using it as a personal noun, not for just his business.
[SWAT team pulls up to the bridge. The driver looks out across the bridge, sees the dragon on a chain, belching fire and roaring. Beyond it lies a big black castle that seems to be giant a Minas Morgul variant. The sky is completely black, crackling with lightning. On their side of the bridge, the sun is shining. SWAT team empties out and stares at the giant address sign that says The End of All Things. The SWAT team leader steps under the cloud, and feels all hope and joy in the world being sucked out of him. He takes a step back and feels slightly better.]
[SWAT leader turns to the others] I think we can all safely say in all honesty that no one can get within earshot of any guns firing? Agreed?
[SWAT team piles back into the van and drives away]
[In his Tower of Eternal Night, Vox Day, the Supreme Dark Lord of Darkness sits upon his throne of blood. He cackles as his viewer watches the SWAT team pull away. It is one of many screens. One screen is a live feed of a cave in Logan County, West Virginia, where degenerate hillbillies, drug-maddened Saponi and Shawnee shaman, blood-drinking devil dogs, together with an inhuman living fungi from Pluto, make hideous sacrifices and perform acts of unspeakable abomination to adore their ninety-one foot tall Vox Day idol made of radioactive black marble]
[Vox laughs] There, there. Run while you can. I'll get you later for even DARING to enter my domain, right before I seek to RULE THE INTERNETS. But first, I must nuke the Hugos!
[Vox looks to another screen, looking over the banquet call of WorldCon] Just wait until they get a load of this.
I hate to break it to you, but the rest of this post has been moved to a different location. Where, you might ask?