Each day Eugene found a little more hair in the shower drain. He’d expected it. His grandfather had been as bald as an egg. But he thought he had more time. He did everything he could to the hair loss. He tried scientific treatments, then quack treatments, and finally expensive hairpieces that didn’t fool anyone. When the Devil came with an offer, Eugene signed on the dotted line. He sold his soul for a thick, luxurious head of hair with no regrets. But there were a pair of cowlicks on either side of his head that he could never tame.
It was a slow day in the library. Since the passengers had tablets which pulled their digital selections directly from the archives, they were mostly slow days. The Librarian sighed. With all the numinous entertainments available on the ship, who would want to come down here for a moldy old paperback, anyway? She looked out at the stars. There was at least one important duty ahead of her. Someday, she would appoint a successor. If the ship’s engines held, they would be the one to share the lost knowledge of Earth when the generation ship landed. Until then, she waited.
When the objects appeared overnight in the square, the townsfolk didn’t know what to make of them There was fine paper and cloth, but they were ripped and stained. There were odd cups of soft metal and cores of mysterious fruit that looked like it had been eaten and discarded. The priest advised they bury the lot, and be not tempted by the strange objects. One farmer surreptitiously took a seed, intending to bury it himself and see what grew. Centuries later, the inventor tested his time machine on trash, heedless of the effect a malfunction might have on history.
The habitation quarters on the Martian Colony were barely livable. It wasn’t something that the Company had invested in outside of the Executive Suites. We’d all signed the contract. And it wasn’t like we could catch a flight back to Earth. It took me months to scrounge enough material. Waste cloth and polymer binding, mostly. The Company tracked everything with ruthless efficiency. Management claimed it was because the colony’s survival was still tenuous. We shared silent looks that spoke the truth: They were bastards. Once I patched together the quilt, my sleeping quarters finally started to feel something like home.
The legends said that monks first learned to brew coffee from a goat. Suspicious, a powerful wizard scried back in time to learn the truth of the matter. Eventually he found the event and was surprised to find the legends were accurate. He saw the goat eat the fallen fruit and the learned men observing its reaction. Then he saw the creature slink off and transform into a dragon. The Wizard decided to abandon his research. If the dragons wanted humanity to drink coffee, they probably had a good reason, and only a fool meddled with dragons and their politics.
As dawn spread over the campsite, the paladin practiced his devotions. His swinging blade coruscated in the light of the rising sun. The thief watched from the shadows. He appreciated the efficiency of combining sword practice with prayer, although he found the routine somewhat flashy for his taste. “Is there something I can help you with?” The paladin asked. He appreciated his companion’s skills, but found the little man odious company. “Oh, don’t mind me,” the thief replied. The paladin went back to ignoring him. If there was one thing the thief could always steal from him, it was time.
He awoke in the middle of the night and crept downstairs to find a pair of elves making shoes in his workshop, which was odd because he wasn’t a cobbler. He turned on the light and they froze, tools raised in their delicate fingers. Nobody said anything for a long time. Finally he said, “Just clean up after yourselves and make sure the door’s locked when you leave.” He turned out the light. The elves resumed their work. He never found out why the elves were there but they did leave him a beautiful pair of loafers.
The grisly crime scene was the worst I’d seen in twenty years of work as a forensic investigator. A dozen fae lay restrained and exsanguinated. Golden blood lay in shiny pools and dried patches all over the room. The Court would have a fit when they found out. Faerie blood has potent magical properties. We were likely dealing with a wizard trying to take a shortcut or a vampire looking to get high. It would be a difficult case. But as I surveyed the crime scene I couldn’t help but think: They’re never going to clean up all this glitter.
Cocktails and Consoles Written by Elias Eells Illustrated by Solji Lee Published by Running Press
The Skinny: A guide for gamers looking to expand their palates and mixologists looking for new inspiration.
Cocktails and Consoles is neither a definitive guide to mixology nor gaming, but it is a mixture of the two hobbies into a whole that is both satisfying and enjoyable, embracing whimsey from both ends of the spectrum. Written by Elias Eells, host of Youtube Channel Bar Cart Book Shelf, this collection of seventy-five cocktails and mocktails inspired by video games of all different vintages and genres shows a passionate love for both the shaker and the controller. But what is notable about this collection is the love of craft that is evident in its creation. An assembly of cocktail recipes inspired by video games could on its surface be a slam-dunk low effort product, quickly churned out and just as quickly forgotten. But Eells’ passion for mixology and gaming shines through, and he takes the reader through the subject with thoughtfulness and care, taking nothing for granted about the reader’s level of comfort for either drink or gaming. The recipes in the book vary from simple to complex, with a section at the front detailing the tools you’ll need as well as some of the more exotic ingredients. It even comes with recipes to makes some of the more complex mixers, from simple syrup all the way to your own orgeat. Each recipe is inspired by a different game, from Pong all the way up to 2023’s Elden Ring. There is a single paragraph for each game, and a few illustrations and side bars provide context for the recipes. The drinks match well with the games, either with color and style, as with the Mariogarita, or by being based on in-game drinks, such as the Final Fantasy XIV ether. Souji Lee’s illustrations and designs are eye-catching and iconic. They add color and a little extra something to the page. The layouts are colorful and flow easily, from the description of the game, to the drink, the the recipe, with extra boxes scattered for additional tips and information. But the book itself is only half of the equation. With Cockails and Consoles as my guide I visited my local liquor and specialty grocery and stocked up on tools and supplies to make some of the drinks from the book. I started with the Mariogarita, which was a tart and bright delightful take on the margarita. The campari added something that did more than just give the drink Mario’s signature bright red color. The Ring Drop, inspired by Sonic the Hedgehog, was bright blue from curaçao, and with two ounces of vodka, definitely goes fast. Cocktails and Consoles is a welcome edition to the library for the gamer or armchair mixologist, and makes a great gift. You can find it wherever you buy books. And also follow Ellis Eells’ YouTube channel, Bar Cart Bookshelf, where he pairs cocktails with reviews of new Fantasy and Science Fiction books.
Loot the bodies. It was my mentor’s first rule, and I hated him for it at first. The old man explained that we weren’t soldiers, and we weren’t heroes. We were adventurers. We solved problems that the other guilds wouldn’t. Sometimes, the only path forward was with the key in a dead foreman’s pocket, or the only clue was the scrap of paper clutched in a dead assassin’s hand. And the rings and gold pouches didn’t hurt either. It got easier every time. But I was unprepared when the corpse’s hand grasped my wrist and dead eyes reopened glaring red.
Hugh J. O'Donnell 