We lost contact with High Command around the time of the first flood. It was a poisonous, clinging foam that burned like acid. For days we endured the storm of stinging rain and miasma. Some of us fell, good men all.

June 21st

Started hearing rumours of evacuations. For our part, we watched the refugees flood past while we remained rooted to our posts.

July?

It is all coming to an end. What are we defending now? The air is toxic, the core is going into meltdown. There is nothing left.

Three adventurers, carrying treasure, encountered a monster on their way home.

“Move aside, Monster” said Fighter. “I’ll not share my treasure.” He waved his shining sword. Monster opened his black eye.

*ZAP!* Fighter collapsed. Dead as a doornail.

“Move aside, Monster” said Rogue. “I’ll not share my treasure.” He thrust his pointy knives. Monster opened his blue eye.

*ZAP!* Rogue was turned to stone.

“Let me pass,” said Wizard, “and I’ll share my treasure with you. Behold!” He held up a golden mirror. Monster opened his green eye.

*ZAP!* Monster vanished in a cloud of dust!

Always share your treasure.

It wasn’t an apartment, it was a museum! Ancient statues and fabulous art filled a post-modern space with amazing views.

Time was short, but I lingered on a few pieces. A Piccaso caught my eye, as did a matching set of jade tigers. So many easy picks to hand. But I’m a sucker for strong, silent types.

I rested my head against its chest and listened to the fluttering heart of the Fallen & Steele XL, as my fingers worked the dial. They say it was uncrackable, but I hear that a lot.

What I didn’t hear was the front door…

I met him in the lobby of a swanky apartment building. The air con shielded us from the July heat. “Here,” said AJ, handing me a golfing umbrella. “It’ll shade that delicate skin.” I took the weird gift, eyebrow raised.

“Try it out,” he said.

“It’s bad luck.”

AJ took my arm and guided it gently upwards. His sudden touch made my heart race and the umbrella burst open. With a flourish, AJ bypassed a security door and vanished inside.

“Hey!” cried the porter. “Don’t open that in here. It’s obscuring the security cameras.”

Of course it is I thought.

Six celebrities sit around the panel. An unpopular comedian opens the envelope and reads the words aloud:

“Call My Bluff. Is it:

A popular BBC panel show based on a show called Speech Impediment?

Something a fiancé waits until they’re standing at the altar to ask?

An obvious joke I couldn’t shake loose once I started thinking about it, which has resulted in a story so short I could have written it in a Tweet.”

Answers on the back of a postcard.

“Ten feet. Almost there.” said Ed.

Cassie gasped as the Observation Deck was bathed in the molten red glow. “We finally made it. The Centre.”

A noise interrupted the celebrations.

“What was that?”

BANG!   BANG!   BANG! Rhythmic knocking echoed through the Rig.

“Could someone be out there?”

“That’s impossible. It’s probably just –“

BANG!   BANG!   BANG!

“Look! There’s something moving out there.” Cassie pointed at the window, then recoiled as it cracked. The red ooze pushed its way inside. It pooled on the floor at Ed’s feet, quivered, and then started to rise.

“No… There’re not real…”

“The Jam People!”

Aitch and his new partner, Eee, got a table at Puchini’s, a popular Agency restaurant.

“May I take your order?”

Eee glanced up. “You’re not from here are you?” He looked hard at the waiter’s face, and saw the unfathomable horror that hid beneath the mask of flesh. The sight burned into his bulging eyes and onto his mind. He was pinned beneath the gaze of those watery, endless eyes as a dripping tentacle probed Eee’s stark white face.

Aitch sighed as the Shoggoth consumed his partner. “This is why we wear sunglasses. Rule 1: It’s rude to stare.”

“Witch’s Cauldron is a crater of boiling water at the top of the volcano. At its centre is Wizard Island. The island is roughly the same shape as Dave – sorry, Nostramas’ – hat. A long rope bridge connects the island to the shore. Who’s going first?”

“Abadon.”

“Abadon.”

“Abadon.”

“What?!”

“You’re the Paladin, Barry. You’ve got full-plate armour.”

“And the shield from Saladrex’s hoard.”

“And the Iron Boots of Steady Footing +1.”

“Fine. I’ll go first.”

“Abadon walks onto the ancient bridge. It collapses under his weight. Abadon falls into the lake and boils to death.”

“I hate you guys.”