Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy


January 9th 2013 in Microfiction

“It was all … a phantasm?” Elrond asked, incredulous, leaves stuck to his face where the drool had dried. “Yes! Isn’t it wonderful?” Frodo grinned. “His biggest and most successful spell! I’m sure he’ll be impossible now.” “If I let him live,” the dwarf grumbled sourly. Boromir tried to stand, then wobbled to the side of the courtyard and vomited over the rail. “What in the hell did he do to us?” he groaned. “I told you! A spell!” Frodo laughed. “Well, that and hallucinations brought on by pipefuls of Old Moldy Fermented Leaf!” “No dark wizard? No ring? No ghoulish little man?” Sam asked, rubbing his temples. “Nope. None of it. Just a dream.” “Why so grand, though? It’s a bit much even for Mithrandir!” Elrond spoke again, getting his sea legs at last. Galadriel giggled. “I do love a wizard mid-life crisis!” Someone had drawn a mustache on her with a Sharpie.

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“Max and Deb followed the doomsday crier down the alley next to the King Bar – an ancient hippie robed in a filthy, rose-printed sheet. They were laughing and shouting obscenities, occasionally throwing garbage at the woman calling out “Beware! Beware! The end is near!” as she shuffled toward the dumpsters at the back. After […]

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