Bloggaday 346 – PWND: The Tot Tales: A Very Tweedy Christmas pt 2

Bloggaday 346 – PWND: The Tot Tales: A Very Tweedy Christmas pt 2
By David “fingers easily wrapping around the handle” Dysart

Hmm, I may have oversold the writing. There seems to be quite a bit of repetition and some meah parts. It could definitely use a good once-over. A good spit-shine and it would be running smooth. Guess what I’m not going to do though?
Damn right.
I guess I could offer some background. The Rookie is set in the future, where football is the dominant sport that holds together an uneasy galaxy housing many races that aren’t terribly fond of each other.
The book itself has been described as the Godfather meets Star Wars meets Any Given Sunday. It’s a rather good read. The original podcast (http://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?id=293777178) is more geared to adults, the print version (http://www.scottsigler.com/gfl) was retooled as a young adult book.


You can find the other posts at:
http://tiny.cc/Bloggaday339
http://tiny.cc/Bloggaday346
http://tiny.cc/Bloggaday353
(Note: Links only become live once the post is put up)

The Tot Tales: A Very Tweedy Christmas
Once Johnny’s eyes focused back on the mushy mountain on his fork, he realized he had stopped eating. How could stop eating just from thinking about the presents. His eyes widened as they looked beyond his fork and to Ju, who had already made up the difference and was actually scooping into the lead. He resumed the shoveling, fighting for the finish again.
Even though Johnny’s refined licking skills closed the lead, Ju was already up and rounding the table by the time Johnny had cleaned his own plate. With the chipped porcelain still wobbling on the table, Johnny fell in line a step behind his little brother as they raced from the table. Their feet went from clacking on the tile to digging into the mykoceae turf.
Johnny remembered his dad talking one time about the grass. It was actually some kind of mutated fungus. It was tough and didn’t need dirt like other grasses. All they needed to do was leave the windows open and pour that green water on it every day. Who cared if it was cold at night? That just made him tough. Their stadium was the only one in the whole galaxy to use it, and their living room was carpeted with it! It was the best living room on the whole planet. It was a football living room.
Diving for his box, Ju reached the tree first. Johnny skidded to his own present and began tearing at the wrapping. As he worked through the layers, he again began thinking about the grass. His dad was the league MVP, and all he wanted was a chunk of the grass for his home. They gave it to him because you couldn’t say no to the MVP of the whole league. You couldn’t say no to his dad. They wouldn’t be able to say no to Johnny when he got old enough to play; he would make sure of that.
The wrap was off of half the box, but Johnny didn’t give his brain enough time to recognize the pictures and colors. He drove a fist through the cardboard and tore away the nuisance that kept him from his gift. He grabbed the matte black finish, fingers easily wrapping around the handle.
Johnny shot to his feet and whipped it up to silhouette against the window. It was the P56 Carboin, the same kind Marcus used on his favorite show. His eyes lit up as they scanned through every mechanical switch and knack. That is, until his brother shrieked.
A rumbling brought an airtanker that eclipsed the room from the light of the window. With the return of the sun, Ju was bouncing into a spiraling catch. The boy’s new football spun between his body and arm. “Touchdown!” he screamed, following it up with his rendition of a muted crowd roaring as he surveyed the room.
Johnny’s eyes found his own toy, but the sight only dragged his smile into a snarl. Already broad shoulders sagged an inch as he examined it from new angles. Why didn’t he get a football? He was smart enough to play football, and not just be another grunt with a gun.
Ju yelped again. “Mommy, time me to see how long it takes to run to the kitchen!” As he rested a hand on his thigh, he shifted from foot to foot.
Johnny sneered at the punk’s enthusiasm. His gripped tightened on the plastic.



Listening to
I Just Wanna Run by The Downtown Fiction

Twitter Tag
Have you ever heard of mykoceae turf? If not, then YOU don’t have a football living room #ScottSigler http://tiny.cc/Bloggaday345



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http://tiny.cc/Facebook_DavidDysart I’m not calling you a bot, just don’t botter me

I wanna view like Youtube
http://www.youtube.com/user/DavidDysart Shut up and let me show

What’s pickier than pickier? The Piccaday
http://tiny.cc/Piccaday_Photobucket Light me up that web cam and strap a smile on my face
http://thepiccaday.blogspot.com/ Let the pictures hit the floor
http://tiny.cc/Piccaday_Flickr I’m gonna pack my pixels and I’m gonna go your way


New to the Bloggaday? These are the essential posts to see
158 – Boxer V Brief – Short, concise joke machine and a DYNAMIC ENTRANCE! to my favorite Bloggadays of the Second Trigaday
http://tiny.cc/Bloggaday158
159 – A Phthalates-filled Sbarro Breadstick – This was just a funny Bloggaday despite the essence being something no one will get unless the look up what a phthalate is
http://tiny.cc/Bloggaday159
174 – FNtCCA,aToTbDD– While I think it’s clear I rarely EDIT the Bloggaday, this train-of-thought post shows how much I have to FILTER it…
http://tiny.cc/Bloggaday174
183 – SotW 13 – This one had it all. Pretty much every bit that’s been a major player in the SotW made its way into this one, so it’s a good one to try.
http://tiny.cc/Bloggaday183
134 – SotW 5 – This particular Song of the Week featured the characters a bit truer to their original concept. After a while, I started liking Tom too much and changed him a bit which caused changes to Chuck.
http://tiny.cc/Bloggaday134
227 – PWND: TSHBRotCCPS pt16 was some solid fiction content. Plus, that was probably some of the finest Final Thought I’ve ever thought up.
http://tiny.cc/Bloggaday227




Close the screen, the awesome’s getting out


football living room