Archive for Miniatures

PodCastle Miniature 79: The Dolphin

by Dave Bishop

Read by Joe Scalora

A PodCastle Original!

I couldn’t see anything amiss and I’d already signed my name, so I pulled myself from my mother’s embrace and sailed away with her tears staining my coat.

“Man the pumps,” called the mate on my first watch.  “Davey Jones is watching us and he thinks the God damn Dolphin‘s his very own pet.  He wants her back, you dogs, so pump or we’ll all go swimming.”

“God damn the Dolphin,” we said as we pumped all ninety-five days to Montego Bay though the sky was untouched, the glass stayed high, and a soft breeze blew us gently from the East.
Rated R. Goddamn the Dolphin! Happy Halloween!

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PodCastle Miniature 76: Quiet Death Machines

by Gillian Daniels.
Read by David D. Levine.
A PodCastle Original!

The evil boy genius lives in a lighthouse with his handsome older brothers. They are loud and aggressively kind. He is neither. Instead, the evil boy genius wants to very softly destroy the world with quiet death machines. He edges knives in cork and skewers stuffed bears on meat hooks.

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PodCastle Miniature 75: Doctor Diablo Goes Through The Motions

by Saladin Ahmed.
Read by Roberto Suarez (of the trailerclash podcast).
Originally appeared in Strange Horizons. Read the text there.

So here I am again, sitting at a twelve-person steel table, going through the motions. The Society of Supercriminals’ new headquarters is impressive but not comfortable. You’d think that Overlord, with his ill-gotten dictator-industrialist billions, could afford some padding for these damn chairs. But as my Tío Cesar would say, assholes never shit flowers.

Rated R for language and hostility

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PodCastle Miniature 71: We Clever Jacks

By Greg van Eekhout

Read by Marshal Latham, of the Journey Into…Podcast! (Check out the rules for the Edgar Allan Poe Writing Contest)

Originally published on Greg van Eekhout’s blog: Writing and Snacks (read it here)

We all started introducing ourselves.

Laughing Jack.

Shrieking Jack.

Happy Jack.

Wailing Jack.

Screaming Munsch Jack.

All the neighborhood Jacks. We are such good Jacks, we Jacks.

“This year we’re not putting up with any of that stuff our patch fathers have always put up with,” says Grimacing Jack. “No smashing in the gutter, no tossing in the street. No blowing up with firecrackers. No being ignored into November, sagging and settling and getting mottled black and furry. No way, my Jacks. This year we’re gonna make it the Year of the Jacks.”

We love our Grimacing Jack.

Rated PG: Contains Pumpkins

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