Raising An Army

Apologies to regular readers for both the tardiness of this entry and the general level of distractedness during the last week.  Genocidal cephalopods have been very much on our minds here.  After pLink returned to our time space continuum, he informed us that even as savvy as he was at killing them, there were far to many for him to ever hope to even make a dent, and we were going to lose this war hardcore.

I placed pLink in charge of our newly restored Research and Development department under the assumption that preventing the end of humanity was slightly more important than figuring out how to get bacon to come through the internet.  (I realize that, technically, NOTHING is more important than figuring out how to make bacon come through the internet, but I figured if humanity weren't around to appreciate it, our gains would seem trivial.)  He's had them busy at work on some kind light projection system that can see through illusions or something.  (I was thinking about my Burning Man story while they were talking--I sort of tuned them out.)

Regardless, it was moments before we were about to fire up The Pretentitron with a clone who was working on a Stephen King-esque Harry Potter-type series and didn't think revision was going to be necessary that the Sci Guy suddenly aborted the upload and asked why we didn't just clone pLink.

A lot.

At first I thought maybe it was just because there was only one sword, but it turns out plink can kill eight-legged things with all kinds of basic weapons--slingshots, bow and arrows, boomerangs, and even this sonic emitter thing that looks like a magic wand.  He's pretty fly, actually.

So we've been busy since then creating a pLink army to invade the parallel time/space continuum, and arming them with everything we could get our hands on from local hardware and sporting goods stores.  We'll probably be at it most of the weekend, but Writing About Writing will be back on track by Monday.