Ken Cartisano

“The Crying Cow” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #235

It looks like my crime spree is coming to an end. Blinding blue lights are flashing all around, I hear dogs barking in the distance, drawing nearer, a helicopters' rotors chop the air in the sky above me with inexorable efficiency as I cower behind a downed and rotting oak tree and a couple of stiff-leafed cabbage palms.A crackling voice through a megaphone informs me that I am surrounded. If I surrender peacefully, no one will get hurt. Not one, but two red dots flicker and dance through the foliage a few meters away. Sharpshooters! With la...

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“The Power Of Love.” by Ken Cartisano

Ben was cooking a bland dinner when Lena came home from work, bringing in a blast of cold air, slamming the door, swearing at the wind, her dynamic outfit rustling and swishing. “How’s the baby?” she whooshed, breathlessly.“Fine.” Ben replied. “And she’s not a baby. You see the news?”“Yeah.”“Another city, another bomb.”“I know.”“We need to leave.”“And go where?” she said.A rival nation-state had spent a decade rigging and hiding dozens of dirty bombs throughout the country, detonating one every week or so. Thousands had already died. Million...

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“Eve; Of Destruction.” by Ken Cartisano

Only five of the nine commissioners bothered to attend his presentation; even by remote holographic projection, their expressions betrayed various degrees of incomprehension. “How do you know it even works?” “We’ve sent back numerous artifacts, uniquely anomalous artifacts.” “Such as?” Djin hesitated. “The Shroud of Turin, for instance. It didn’t show up until the twelfth century, because it didn’t exist until the eleventh. We even put it outside in our climate for a short time to give it that scorched, authentic look.” The Shroud ...

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“The Libranarium.” by Ken Cartisano

Sarah Sauron, the golden-haired object of his inflamed ardor, approached Martin and abruptly handed him a Post-it Note and an index card. “You need to find this book, Martin, and make sure this number matches it and put it back in the card catalogue.” She was walking away with a succulent sway, before he could comprehend her request. So he jumped to his feet and pursued her, his ‘sweet’, across the carpeted domain. He was just within reach, of this delicate peach… when he was intercepted by another—librarian. “Martin,” she declared. It ...

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“When Joey Met Saulie.” by Ken Cartisano

I was parched. I tossed my jacket over my shoulder and continued plodding towards the inexplicable pasture land in the distance. It’s not that I was ever afraid of dying, you understand, I just expected it to be quick and painless, like an unanticipated bullet to the back of the head. Baking to death in the desert? That wasn’t something I’d ever figured on.We were on our way to Vegas and we’d already covered lots of territory that day, unfortunately, much of it was on foot. After two hours of trudging towards a slight rise in the deserted wa...

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“The (Alternate) End Of the Dragons.” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #218

The year was 1476, February 28.A flagon of mead slammed onto the table first, then two plates piled with fresh cooked pork, the fat still sizzling and popping.It was after midnight. The tavern was dark and noisy, but warm.Val leaned forward, shouting above the din, “I think we have our dragon slayer, Fid.”‘How could she tell?’ He wondered. He could barely discern her features even though she was sitting across the table from him. Still, he paused and squinted into the smoke-filled squalor of the main room, saw nothing and continued eating. M...

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“Boomer” by Ken Cartisano

Submitted to Contest #215

“It was an accident, honest.” I said.My wife was dubious, of course, her arms across her bosom, tapping one itchy finger on her muscular forearm.“Honest!” I reiterated.“So you killed it?”“Uh—I don’t know. It fell from its perch and then crawled or dragged itself under the shop. Probably,” I added.She harrumphed and went somewhere else. This short exchange tells you more about women than it does about my character or marksmanship. The damned thing was threatening me, as much as it could from thirty feet away, so I leveled the gun in its’ gene...

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“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.I tossed my cigarette in the gutte...

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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 Outback in Sector 19. Naturally I was intrigued, but admitted that I knew next to nothing about hunting. “Don’t worry,” he says, “I got the ...

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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 between two mismatched Titans,” he began, “then proceeded to recount the events, by mimicking the participants.” “This can’t be happening,” the P...

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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. It’s hard to explai...

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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 where she thought I was. ‘Out in your boa...

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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, that’s better.” “Really Ken, if this is a bad time…” “No, no. It’s just, I’m, I volunteered to help coach the Lego team in the upcoming Toy-Olympics, and…” “Really! That’s wonderful Ken. What are they c...

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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…I picked up the phone and called...

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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. It was a breathtaki...

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