Puppies Come to WorldCon

Update: Despite the ending notes, this is now a whole series. [Click tab above for more]

Sad Puppies Bite Back (Part 3)

The "Sad Puppies" parody world I have created in my head is slowly taking over my brain, so bear with me.

If you haven't read the last two parody blogs, you might be new here.  This started with a thought: what if Sad Puppy authors were SWATted (part 1)? Then it sort of drifted from the "ringleaders" in part one (Correia, Torgersen, Hoyt) to "mere" supporters in part two (Kratman, Ringo, Weber).

While I was chatting briefly with Tom Knighton, mentioning that the tank really was all him, I was struck with a thought: What would happen if the Puppies showed up at World Con, where the Hugos are handed out?  And not the real ones, the ones I've created here.

Stop me before I post again!

... But until that point, more puppies.  I just hope this isn't too much inside baseball, like with It Was Only On Stun!

Though for those people who know what I'm talking about, it may not be ENOUGH inside baseball.

If you're surprised that this has come to a point ... you're not the only one.

William "The Morrigan" Lehman

Lehman asked for this. Literally. Never say I am not obliging.

[Lone SWAT guy comes to submarine held in drydock (literally. On stilts, on dry land). SWAT guy knocks on the hull.  From the conn tower pops The Morrigan, William Lehman, looking more like a pirate than Johnny Depp ever will, parrot on one shoulder, cutlass in hand]  Avast! Who goes there?

[SWAT guy] Hey, Will, it's James. How're you doing?

[WL] Ahoy matey! What can I do for ye?

["James"] 911 called us, they got a report of you threatening someone with a gun?

[WL] Nonsense! All me muskets are locked up tight.

[James nods]  That's what we figured.  We knew something was off when they called your place a house. You hosted too many shindigs back when you worked with us on the force. See ya around.

[WL] By the way, matey, what day is it?

[James mentions date]  Avast! I must be off!

No, that's not the end of the story. Wait for it.

James "Shrapnel" Schardt

James was also going to be a bit player below. But, he also asked for this.

[SWAT team approaches house with no problem at all. They take up positions on either side of the door.  The battering ram is about to take the door when cute little kitten brushes up against SWAT guy's leg.  SWAT guy nudges it away.  Door opens.  SWAT is buried in cats.  Schardt runs out of the house for car, wearing a Wendell's Roughnecks t-shirt.  He stops, notices the SWAT guys buried in felines]  Oh, hey, everybody.  Anyone want a cat? I have too many of them.  Feel free to take a few, I'll do a headcount when I return from Spokane. Ciao!

[Schardt gets in car, and drives to aiport]

Kate Paulk, The Impaler

In my defense, this was Tom Knighton's idea

[In the backwoods of Pennsylvania, a SWAT team weaves in an out through another part of the forest. They come to the door of the house.  Sign on the door says "Gone to WorldCon."  SWAT team turns around.  The "forest" they moved through was an entire front lawn filled with poles with tips sharpened for impaling people.  The tips of all of them are black with what appears to be dried blood. Sign next to them reads: "For SJWs who piss me off."  SWAT team leaves at doubletime.]

Before anyone tells me that Madam Paulk doesn't live in the backwoods, I should noted two things. One, I'm a New Yorker so San Francisco feels like the backwoods. Two, I've been to Pennsylvania, it all feels like backwoods

EDIT

I hate to break it to you, but the rest of this post has been moved to a different location. Where, you might ask?

Here: To the Collected SAD PUPPIES BITE BACK, in Paperback and Kindle.