Hugh J. O'Donnell

They found the same life-form on a dozen worlds, parsecs apart. It was a tall, woody plant that was virtually identical to an oak tree. Even more strange, the samples weren’t merely the same species but were cuttings of the same plant.
Anthropologists, astronomers, and botanists debated for decades about how they could’ve traveled so far with no other signs of alien settlement.
Finally, they found a distant planet dominated by a single massive tree. Its branches reached up into the sky and disappeared like magic.
One of the landing party climbed one and found himself standing on another world.

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The prince took to wearing a mask forged of steel when making his public appearances. He wore it to cultivate an air of mystery but also to prevent attempts on his life.
He selected a team of bodyguards with his build and gave them masks as well. By blending into a crowd, assassins couldn’t be sure which one was the target. The unorthodox tactic was considered a success.
But the prince became lazy. Over time, he gave more and more duties to his shadows and left his palace less and less.
Nobody even noticed when they replaced him for good.

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The carriage reined to a stop next to another track in the snow. The hunter got out and examined it in the early morning light
“She’s been this way,” he said to his companion. “Recently.”
The track wasn’t so different from any other bird. You could mistake it for a chicken or a turkey if you discounted the fact that it was large enough for a man to lay down comfortably inside.
“Come, Lawrence.” They had to hurry. The cyptozoological gardens opened in an hour, and if the terror bird wasn’t back in her enclosure, it would be their heads.

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The sorcerer paced outside the circle, chanting the last of the spell. The salt burned blue for a moment and a twisting column of black smoke appeared inside.
“Why have you summoned me, mortal?”
“I wish to rule over all the earth!”
“Of course,” the demon replied. “And where would you be beginning your reign?”
“Er, Ohio.”
“What are the schools like?”
“What?”
The demon sighed. “Taking over the Earth is a long-term project. If I head this for you, I need to think about relocating, and I don’t want my spawn getting a substandard education. Shall we talk salary?”

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There was a legend in the art community that the secret to the ultimate talent lay hidden in the Redstone Hills. As a result, the region became flooded with aspiring artists whose vision exceeded their talent.
Local galleries found a willing market for the amateurish landscapes in the community of painters and treasure hunters. But the secret remained a mystery.
But one day, Maurits went out into the cliffs with a canvas and returned on the back of a gigantic stone-scaled dragon.
It seemed anyone could paint the hills, but it took a true artist to bring them to life.

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The engineer was hauled out of line by the commander and pushed to the ground.
“This isn’t what I requested,” he said, pointing at the monstrosity in front of them.
“It’s a robotic eye, isn’t it?” He managed.
“It’s twenty feet tall!” His captor roared at the terrified prisoner. He pulled out his laser pistol and pointed it at him. “Do you think me a fool?”
“It’s just a prototype, sir. We can miniaturize it, but it will take time…”
The commander holstered his gun. “See that you do.” The engineer had bought himself another day to plan his escape.

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After the queen executed her prisoners, she had them put on display outside the gates, as a warning to others who would attack her.
But rather than hang them from the wall and letting them rot, she had the skeletons stripped and staked in the ground like scarecrows. She ordered her gardeners to scatter carefully chosen seeds at their feet.
In the spring, stems climbed up her enemies’ spines, and wildflowers blossomed among their ribs. Butterflies landed delicately in their empty mouths and eye sockets.
“Just because we are terrible, does not mean we cannot also be beautiful,” she said.

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After losing his job, his former employer sent him a cobra. After narrowly avoiding springing coils and venomous fangs, he trapped it in his bathroom. Then he called someone to complain.
After an awkward and confusing conversation with a third-party benefits provider, they eventually connected him with the HR department. The woman who answered seemed remarkably calm and unsurprised by the arrival of a live snake.
“When I signed up to COBRA, I thought it was, you know, a continuation of my insurance.”
“Normally, it is,” she said. “But our organization places a great priority on tying up loose ends.”

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He found the old robot hidden behind an access grate in one of the lower tunnels. It was in perfect condition, and there was even a manual!
After a night of long, difficult labor, he managed to get it back to his study. He propped it in a corner and got to work deciphering the instructions.
He didn’t realize the thing still had power until it booted up and straightened to attention.
“How long has this unit powered down?”
“Er, a long time,” He managed.
“Did we win the war? Is the Earth free?”
He hated giving it bad news.

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