Monday Challenge: No More Super-Crabs

Hulk (comics)

Also, maybe in a colour other than purple. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Ah, the first Monday Challenge of a new year. So what if the year’s almost a week old? The year starts when I say it starts, and I say it starts now, at 6:30 on a cold, dark, windy winter’s morning. Naysayers and argumentative types will be forced into trial by Sunrise Battle Yoga. Losers will be burned for warmth. Winners, too.

I wrestled with what to choose for the year’s first challenge, picking and then discarding several options. Don’t worry, those unripened mind fruit will no doubt find their tainted way onto this page at some later date. By which point they will probably have evolved some interesting new mutations, and be far more compelling than they are now.

There was lots of choice. But in the end, I went with a classic:

Write the New Year’s Resolutions for a fictional character.

It doesn’t have to be your character; you can pick any imaginary beast you like. I promise not to tell anyone. For example, King Lear’s list might include, “Stop treating youngest daughter like shit, because that will definitely come back to haunt me.” Bruce Banner’s might be, “Finish paper on thermonuclear radiation analysis as applied to genetic research, because it’s been sitting on your desk forever. Also, develop super-stretchy fabric to make into underpants. No one wants more Hulk wang in their lives. No one.”*

If I was going to write the New Year’s Resolutions for my current main character, they’d probably run something like this:

1. Stop being so twitchy. Not everyone is out to kill you. Half, tops. And of that half, only about a third stand a chance.

2. Learn to use a weapon. Any weapon. How have you lived this long without knowing this?

3. Unpack. Seriously, you’re not running off before that guy is dead, so you might as well know where the dishtowels are.

So make up an imaginary New Year’s Resolution list for someone. Bonus points if it includes, “Don’t get eaten by super-crabs. Again.” I’m off to gather wood to burn in the hopes that the sun with take the goddamned hint and start doing its fucking job.

*If he could pass this note on to Doctor Manhattan, that would be a bonus.


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