Ken Cartisano

“Backstage Door.” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #215

This was not my first stint as a stand-up comic, but it was shaping up to be my last. Mac, the Manager, had given me several consecutive dates months ago, and I never managed to fill even half the room, but Mac was desperate when he called me that morning.Hired to fill in for a more popular act, the crowd was a touch hostile. Most of them had come to see Abe Jordan. His name was on the marquee after all, and I was hoping he would show up for his last two sets because I was bombing big-time with the audience.

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“The Albino Boar.” by Ken Cartisano

Call me crazy, if you want, but you’d scream too if you woke up on the ceiling. We arrived at the teleport promptly at noon, my trusty aide and sidekick, Quahog, carrying our luggage, looking for a ship ominously named the Pequod. I was flush with money, and merely sought to have a little adventure for my sixtieth transplant, when an associate of mine suggested a hunting expedition in the Kevorkian Outbac...

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“Flin Flamming the Pivyck.” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #210

Before I could protest his invasive and sudden appearance, he said ‘Wait, wait, wait. Let me tell you my story.’ He proceeded to explain how his previous jump was not well-planned and he found himself in the middle of a dispute between two large, very strange entities. ‘Little did they know’ he said, ‘it had all been pre-arranged. Planned to a T.’ “It was a bit like being at a grudge match betwee...

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“The Vegans. (A Serving of Man.)” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #210

You don’t speak their language, so you don’t really know what’s going on, but you see other people accepting small chits from an automated dispenser. You grab one and take a seat. The ticket has symbols that mean nothing to you. The minutes turn into hours. Eventually you realize your number is being called when a bureaucrat with an electronic pad barks out some foreign gibberish, and several heads in the room turn toward you.A freakishly tall, gaunt and bony creature silently leads you to a cubicle and offers you a seat...

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“Outposts.” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #210

“Would you like a brochure? Sure, here you go.”I remember the first time I was abducted. Whisked away at virtual ‘probe-point’ to a distant galactic ‘depot’ called ‘Zudprillipud.’ Why? Well, that’s a good question. It was kind of like sleepwalking except I wasn’t asleep, and I don’t think I was walking. Anyway, they brought me back. Dropped me off in my car. It seemed like ten minutes had elapsed, but when I awoke, I soon realized I’d lost an entire week. A week! And nobody even noticed.I asked Cathy wh...

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“What Do You Wear To An Affair?” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #208

The tiny little plastic phone rang. He picked it up. “Ken?” “Speaking.” “It’s me, Barbie.” “Oh. Hi Barbie. What’s up?” “Have you got a minute? It—it sounds noisy. I called at a bad time, didn’t I? I should just…” “No, no, no. Don’t be silly. Hold on a sec.” After a minute of mumbled confusion he came back on the line. “Okay, t...

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“Fob Story.” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #207

I’m just a run-of-the-mill journalist, okay? Except in certain sports related circles, you probably never heard of me. Neil A. Gleary? See? Almost exclusively sports write-ups with the occasional science article here and there. Not very well known.So I’m surprised when I come home late one night and there’s a message on my answering machine informing me that my request for an interview with the Director of AARI has been approved. Arrangements had been made, please confirm by calling this number, bla, bla, bla…...

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“The Human Element.” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #204

1842.With an audible thud and a flash of light, he appeared, kneeling in the sand. He removed his blindfolds and opened his eyes and couldn’t see a thing. Was he blind? Did the machine malfunction? He held his hand up in front of his face, and could not see it until it was inches from his nose. His eyes were fine. No moon, no cities, no such thing as streetlights. They didn’t warn him that it would be this dark, yet they claimed they had thought of everything. Jim looked up—and saw the stars. There were so many. Billions...

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“Lord Of Lights.” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #202

I knew it was a mistake as soon as I walked into the room. Nobody recognized me, and no wonder, I hadn’t been to a high school reunion in fifty years. Three things brought me here: Free food; free liquor; and an invitation from the bride, ‘Patty McWhatsherface. I looked at the invitation, Correction: ‘Patty Collier.’ I should probably memorize that, I thought, as I tossed it into a trash bin. The room was dark and smoky,...

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“The Lips Don't Lie” by Ken Cartisano

I was ushered into the clients large, well-appointed office by the back door, an inauspicious way to begin a sensitive consultation. He offered me a seat and warned me bluntly, “Don’t smoke in my office.” I put my unlit cigar back in my pocket. “So, I understand this is a missing persons case.” “In a way,” the client replied. “I met her at a party, fell instantly in love, but before I coul...

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“Reproduction.” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #191

I sat hunched over a table in an obscure little café I used to frequent. The place was deserted. All the locals go to the nightclubs a few blocks away these days. I just wanted a quick drink, and anticipated another quiet evening at home, alone. My expectations for the evening were low, but I felt like I had recovered from my break-up with Sue, and was thinking more constructively about relationships in general. There are certain things a woman has a right to know, but at what point in the courtship, exactly, does a man lay his cards on t...

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“The Father, The Sons-of-Bitches, and the Unholy Ghost.” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #189

I turned up my collar and tightened the belt of my tattered coat. It was well past midnight and a cool fog had drifted in from the harbor.The muffled sound of voices signaled the passage of three young thugs at the end of the street. They were moving fast, and keeping their chatter down. I don’t think they felt any safer than I did. Not in this district.The solitary streetlamp was no match for the gloom. Its amber light flickered now and again, threatening to go out altogether.Somethin...

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“The Trouble with Singularities.” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #188

Future History. I was there. I saw how little weight the professor’s opinions carried against the institutional forces that make the decisions. I needed no further convincing on the futility of his protests. “I hate to bore you all with the same set of facts again,” the professor began, “but the problem with this project, is that the theory predicts a second singularity, of unknown coordin...

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