Showing results by author "Rob Dircks" in All Categories

I found the journal at work. Well, I don't know if you'd call it work, but that's where I found it. It's the lost journal of Nikola Tesla, one of the greatest inventors and visionaries ever. Before he died in 1943, he kept a notebook filled with spectacular claims and outrageous plans.

Back when I started this project, I was thinking what the heck, writing a few short stories will keep me fresh, let me try things I might not try otherwise, act as a sketch book of my story ideas: the funny, the weird, the scary, the sappy, and sometimes all of that mashed up together.  

I don't know what the humans are so cranky about. Their enclosures are large, they ingest over 1,000 calories per day, and they're allowed to mate. Plus, they have me: an Autonomous Servile Unit, housed in a mobile/bipedal chassis. I do my job well: keep the humans healthy and happy.

Listen, having kids is great, my little Gigi Collins and Pete’s daughter Hannah are sweet little fluffs of cotton candy, spun from the silk of fairy spiders who live in the clouds. But man, can they cause trouble. Seriously, you’d think a two-year-old couldn’t possibly threaten the very existence of our physical reality, but, well, you know where this is going. So join me and Pete, and Bobo, and of course the man himself, Nikola Tesla, on another spine-tingling, bowel-loosening thrill ride, and remember: bring your adult diapers.

Something called the “Blue Juice" is coming. For all of us. Luckily, me (Chip Collins), Pete, Nikola Tesla, Bobo, and FBI Agent Gina Phillips are here to kick its ass, and send it back to last Tuesday. Maybe. Or maybe we'll fail, and everyone in the multiverse is doomed. (Seriously, you might want to get that underground bunker ready.) Either way, I've got to get home to Julie and find out – woah, I'm not about to tell you that right here in the book description! TMI, dude.

Living and slaving in Fill City One, you get used to the smell. We call it the Everpresent Stink. But every once in a while, on a spring day with a breeze, it clears away enough to remind us that there is something more out there. Most Fillers' wildest dreams would be just to get past the walls and live in the mainland. But my dream? It’s a little bigger. I’m going to Mars.