Watch the Skies!

Sixty-two years ago today, a pilot named Kenneth Arnold spotted strange shapes in the sky near Mt. Rainier. His report of "flying saucers" (as reporters called them) let to the UFO craze in the 1950s and 1960s, as well as to "The Lawndale File" and that nutbar Artie.

One hundred sixty-seven years ago today, Ambrose Bierce was born, a person no doubt familiar to Daria Morgendorffer as he was outrageously sarcastic and cynical in his writings. Bierce was a widely known editorial writer, reporter, and short-story author in his time. He is best known as the creator of the short story, "An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge," later made into a famous short movie shown on Twilight Zone, and a snarky tome called The Devil's Dictionary. Daria would have especially appreciated the latter. He vanished without a trace in Mexico in 1914. Sick, Sad World undoubtedly has some explanation for that.

An amazing full-length portrait of Daria Morgendorffer in her Reaper outfit from "Reaped Out" has been posted by Pinkminx, and in two different but perfect versions, yet. Good Lord! You GO!

PPMB

• Cold Comfort, by Doggieboy (Part 10): When Daria left the battle scene, she took a few extras with her, but was still able to move along at a hefty jog. Dougherty didn’t even try to follow her, for which she was thankful. I should have three, maybe four hours at the most before he makes his next move against me, she thought and jumped over a small creek. (SFMB)
  
• Gimme Skelter, by TAG and Brother Grimace (Part 11): Mackenzie dropped through the hatch into the tractor cab and grabbed the radio mike, startling the driver. He banged his left arm on the side of the hatch hard enough to gasp aloud, but tried to ignore it. “Condor high north, condor high north!” he cried. “Wolf Pack, blackout! Dead stop!” the Old Man immediately responded. “Blackout! Dead stop!” (PPMB)
  
• Never Come to Be, by thatLONERchick (COMPLETE!): Trent Lane lost himself in the sensation of his rough fingers stroking the strings of his Fender dreadnaught acoustic, head bowed as the song drifted through the cemetery, the notes rising and falling as they were carried off on the wind. Jesse Moreno sat beside him, strumming rhythm and singing harmony when called for.
• Trent Has a Thing for Brunettes, by thatLONERchick (COMPLETE!): Jane yawned and, not really trying to see through blurry eyes, pulled open the door and stepped into the hall. Her first impression was of disheveled brown hair; her teeth clicked as she ran head-long into what felt like a person in front of Trent's bedroom door and the dull thud of shoes hitting the worn carpet. She looked up with a wince, lips already parted to apologize to her usually recumbent sibling—and froze. Angry tremors swept her lean body as her eyes blazed like blue suns.
  
• Unnamed story (Iron Chef: Angst Lord Time-Trials Redux), by Brother Grimace (COMPLETE!): Over a hundred cameras recorded the scene as, in front of a stunned crowd, Angela Li came through the front doors of Lawndale High School Wearing a jet-black babydoll with matching garters and a matching silk scarf, Angela smiled at the crowd as the girls of the Cheerleading Squad and Fashion Club (dressed in the finest that Victoria's Secret could offer) paraded out from the doors behind her. As everyone watched, stunned into silence, Angela began to sing.
• Unnamed story (Iron Chef: Favorite Aunt Meets Amiga), by Betting on Delusions (COMPLETE? Part 1?): Jane sighed audibly and pulled her legs to her chest, making herself as small as possible. She had been waging an internal war ever since her subconscious pulled the rug out from under her the prior afternoon. "I definitely was not expecting this," Jane muttered into her knees.

St. Elsewhere

• Puppeteering, by Roentgen (COMPLETE!): "Come in." I entered what appeared to be a little-used room in a vacant Hollywood movie set. It was actually a vacant Toronto movie set, but if Toronto can replace New York on television, its sets can replace Hollywood ones. The man sitting at the desk wore khaki. He looked half like Jeff Probst of Survivor and half used-car salesman. He smiled, as if he were completely and absolutely satisfied with himself. [I never metafiction I didn't like!]