TwiLyghtSansSparkles

Agreed! I just….I just have to feel sorry for a guy who has every fourteen-year-old girl's blog in his head, not to mention the more uncouth parts of the Internet, and the sheer number of blogs claiming the Web is just an elaborate conspiracy run by space Nazis who in turn control the Illuminati…. I really want to meet this guy now.

Wow. Poor guy.

Nathan felt sick as the jet coasted to a stop on the ground, and it had nothing to do with the two barrel rolls and one loop Funtimes had taken after the bombing. She had done it. She had really done it. With a giggle and a grin, Doctor Funtimes had bombed an entire neighborhood. You shouldn't be surprised, he told himself. She's an Epic. It's what they do. Still, an entire neighborhood…. He kept his silence and his face forward as the jet struck ground, wobbled, and rolled toward a stop. If Lightwards asked Alice what she had seen, she wouldn't be able to report his expression. Lightwards wouldn't know he hated what they'd done, hated himself for sitting through it instead of reaching back and slapping her hands away. There was another whirring crash of metal as the Cat-jet changed to a white hard-top Jeep. He should have done something, anything. Alice didn't matter. His cover didn't matter. Those people, the ordinary folk who hadn't done a thing to anyone, mattered. Funtimes giggled as the Jeep rumbled over the asphalt. He hated her. He didn't want to be near her. He would have rather died back in Newcago than sit and listen to her giggle at the thought of burning an entire street. The explosion had been a mass of pink and green, but there was no pink and no green nearby. "Doctor?" "Uh-huh?" "How far away did we land?" She shrugged. "'Bout a mile, I think." A mile. A bomb of that size would have spread destruction much further than that. The darkened homes they passed should have been at least scorched, if not partially destroyed. Every now and then a face peered out from between the slats of a window's blinds before retreating fearfully, but other than that there was no sign of devastation. Finally, they rounded a corner onto the street-turned-battlefield. Aside from the homes that had been crashed through, shot at, or otherwise razed, there was no additional damage. Glitter still sat here and there in drifts, but most of it seemed to have been sucked back toward the bomb from whence it came. The smell of hairspray and smoke was so strong he gagged, and Funtimes, also coughing, rolled up the windows. And there, in the center of the street, was the true definition of carpet bombing. Lightwards' tank was aiming a jet of flame at a still-moving mass of cloth. Nathan could see the remains of a smiley face as it burned away. But the cloth was stiff, a hole cut in the center like a poncho where the feral Epic's head poked out. It wasn't cloth, it was…. "Carpet," he said in disbelief. "You bombed him with carpet." Funtimes laughed. "What'd you think carpet bombing was, silly?" He wanted to kiss her.

I think I'll just have her land for now. Ground support is what Lightwards needs, and I don't think Oregon is ready for a sonic rainboom.

Hmmm. Hmmm, I say!

But…but carpet is warm! And snuggly! And it can be very, um…. ….inspiring….

Well, which flight maneuvers are there?

I was just going to carpet bomb him until he sits down and writes it. Funtimes style.

For writing something so strange no one knows how to respond to it.

Sorry. :/

Lightwards? In….in Equestria? I WANT TO READ IT NOW, PLEASE.

Yes, yes….let the confusion flow through you…..

Starring Jeff Goldblum, reprising his usual role as a harried intellectual who saves the day….but with ZOMBIES this time! I have no idea who would voice Funtimes.

But….but what if I get bored? Oh well. I suppose I can find ways of amusing myself. http://youtu.be/NI9PsIWYWDQ

Well, there will be dinosaurs later on….

Fine. I'll put in a bit about her and her parents escaping zombification while Lightwards is wondering what the heck to do with a carpet-bombed Nighthound. Ummm….cover the carpet in maple syrup, then use a massive cool-air hairdryer to turn it to amber in an attempt to trap him? Although in fairness, I doubt anyone would know what to do in a situation like that.

The Cat-jet, as it turned out, did not carry any of what Nathan assumed to be standard jet controls. He had never flown a jet, but the cockpit of the Cat-jet differed considerably from those he had seen in old movies and TV shows. Colorful buttons covered the console. The seats were covered in pastel upholstery, the walls painted brightly. Funtimes steered the jet to a reasonably high altitude with a joystick, which she twirled with a giggle. "Um, maybe we should try a helicopter?" Nathan was grateful the seat belts were automatic. Had they not been, he would have been tossed against the ceiling by her barrel roll. "Helicopters? Pfft." Her hair stuck out wildly, most of the glitter having been transferred to her shoulders and forearms in the fight. One sock had fallen and lay bunched around her sneaker, the lights still blinking. "You can't do carpet bombing in a helicopter!" "Are—are you sure destroying the whole neighborhood is really necessary?" His first thought was for the people trapped in their homes. His second thought was for Lightwards, who would not be amused at death by friendly carpet bombing. Funtimes looked at him as though he had asked her how she felt about albino octopuses named Jerry. Actually—no, that wasn't right. She probably had a well-reasoned opinion on that one. "Destroy? Do you even know what carpet bombing is?" Do you? "Alice! The carpet buttons, please!" A series of buttons were pressed, and a mid-sized bomb fell from the jet's underside. ---------------------------------- On the street below, a four-year-old girl watched from a downstairs window as the bomb descended. "Amy! Get away from there!" Her mother was crying, the sound blending with the bomb's muted whistles, but Amy couldn't move. She couldn't make her feet do what they had to. As her father lifted her from the floor and carried her away, the bomb detonated. Pink and green glitter filled the air, and when it cleared, a massive square of fluffy carpet landed atop the naked Epic facing the pink tank. A rainbow smiley face grinned at her from the rug. "Daddy, the carpet's asploding and it's really pretty." Her Daddy said nothing. She wasn't sure whether he would laugh or cry.

Who's up next in the fight?

I sense no obsession here.

And Funtimes wasn't there to change them either.

Prosthetic? Try cybernetic implants that play "Old MacDonald Had a Farm" every time he uses the built-in gumdrop launcher. On the plus side, the gumdrops explode on impact. Claudius? I don't know, it just seemed to fit.

Between eight and nine years after Annexation Day, is what I was thinking. That's enough time for Megan to have heard about Oregon, but not enough for it to become common knowledge.