Showing results by narrator "Scott Miller" in All Categories

Writing stories was hard work - unless Fred had a typewriter like "Reggie" that could write by itself! Nonsense? Fred agreed until he met the plagiarist from Rigel IV. I bought the typewriter in a pawn shop on Third Avenue. The pawn shop proprietor was a balding old man with a walrus mustache. "How much?" I asked him. "Five dollars," he said casually.

I thought moving into a new apartment would be easy. Even in this world of magic and monsters, moving out shouldn’t be too hard, right? With help from the ghost in my head, I hunt monsters to pay the bills and pay my way through university. Now it’s time I finally get my own place. Through lopping off zombie and giant rat heads, I should have enough money, right? But if there’s anything consistent about living in Hope City, things are seldom easy.

Zack is going to the Spooky School for Monsters! Follow Zack's hilarious farting story where his constant tooting at Spooky School leaves him feeling embarrassed in front of his friends. But maybe there is a way to turn it into his biggest advantage instead.

For 20 long unholy years, Hurtz, the pilot, dreamed of retirement...and found his "acre of heaven" on a death star. Hurtz went through the automatic motions of preparing himself for their landing on the small unnamed planet, but each thing he did was a wasted motion because it was really the boy, Jones, who was going to put the rocket down. And, what could Hurtz do now? The hard, aging muscles of his body were taut, and although the lines about his eyes had deepened, his eyes - blue and sparkling - still retained their old ferocity.

When you are only about 90 degrees from absolute zero, it is not hot, despite the fact that the sun is shining down on you 24 hours a day. The answer to this riddle is that you are on Uranus, in the arctic circle, where the sun is a bright star almost directly overhead. And what are you doing on Uranus? You need the money. Nils Borgmann, however, was sweating. And the reason was that the heating unit on his space suit, like the heating units on almost all space suits, was not functioning properly.

Greg was sure the kids had no right being in control of a planet; after all what had they learned about life? Still, what had he learned? The old ship wheezed and clattered into the landing slot. Greg was an expert pilot, but skill was no substitute for outdated equipment. He unstrapped the safety webbing and eased himself out of the cabin, cluttered with its worn and scarred electronic gadgetry. With the handcrank, he opened the airlock. Rusting metal screamed as the panel slid back into the hull.

Personnel Incorporated bragged that they could supply a man for any job. Maxwell doubted this, needing a space pilot for the first Lunar trip. Now, if he had just asked for a lunatic....

Alice saw the Beachcomber as a glorious hunk of man; Maxwell saw him as a super being from the future. Tragically, he was both.... Maxwell and the girl started their weekend on Thursday, in Venice. Friday, they went to Paris, Saturday to Nice, and on Sunday, they were bored. Alice pouted at him across the breakfast table. "Vernon, let's go someplace else," she said. She leaned forward across the table and put up one long white hand to keep her honey-colored hair out of her eyes. "You don't know what I mean. I mean, let's go to some other planet."

Henig was sent to obtain a soil sample of the planet. It was a routine assignment, but not necessarily the only method for discovering an—Export Commodity. Three of the hairless bipeds stood in front of the frame building talking. Concealed by the brush beyond the road, Henig studied them carefully. The pale, white-skinned animals had a culture of sorts—their language, their buildings, their wheeled vehicles testified to that—but an animal society was very different from the rational civilization Henig knew.

Gentle Marene was next when the black space cruiser called for its youth-levy. If only Zurk would spark to life - Zurk, this huge, part-human war machine of tubular steel muscles and blank, mechanical mind. There was both agony and defeat etched deeply into Guyard's lean face as he stood there in the center of the hidden attic laboratory. His fists were clinched tightly at his sides and his hollow eyes were staring tensely and with supplication at the steel monstrosity before him. "Zurk, you must save her!" he pleaded. "You must save Marene!" Zurk, the man of steel, made no move.

Tad, like other young men, looked to the spaceways for adventure. But, George Barlow, like other fathers, knew that disaster would end his Wanderlust. Somehow, George Barlow had sensed that something was wrong the moment his son drove into the barnyard that evening. He had been waiting impatiently for Tad's return all afternoon; the men needed those tractor bolts before they could do the mowing. But, George had felt the uneasiness, quite suddenly, deep in his chest when he heard the boy's three-wheeler chugging up the rutted country road from town.

The base diner was hot and stuffy that night as Scotty Johnson sat with Mitch and Jack and the other boys, sipping his last cup of coffee before Zero Hour rolled around. Mitch and Jack had succeeded in sneaking him out of town before the reporters had guessed what was happening. Now, they sat in silence, sipping their coffee, glancing at him from time to time as though to make sure he were still there. It annoyed Scotty. This was the time to laugh, and joke, and bull away as if nothing was going to happen at all.

He stared with fascination at a heap of newspapers spread out on the corner stand. He could guess the purpose of these layers of white sheets covered with black or red symbols, but he could not yet interpret them, and he had no idea whether anyone had seen or reported his ship. It was almost certain that someone had observed a shooting star, but the chances were very much against any observation having been made of the star’s slow, dark drift to Earth.

If there had ever been a time when Ollie Keith hadn't been hungry, it was so far in the past that he couldn't remember it. He was hungry now as he walked through the alley, his eyes shifting lusterlessly from one heap of rubbish to the next. He was hungry through and through, all 140 pounds of him, the flesh distributed so gauntly over his tall frame that, in spots, it seemed about to wear through, as his clothes had. That it hadn't done so in 42 years sometimes struck Ollie as in the nature of a miracle.

Half of Jupiter's great disk and most of the other moons were below the horizon when the man stepped out of the plane and changed her life. As far as Carol Marsh was concerned, he was ordinary enough in appearance. And she wasn't ordinarily attracted to ordinary men. He was slightly over medium height, his features were not quite regular, and he had a deep tan over what had started out as a sunburn, so that she decided he had misjudged the strength of the sun on some planet with a thin atmosphere.

Harry spent three years in space, waiting to get home to Earth - and his family. They were waiting for him, too - that is, for his corpse. Captain Greene shook his shaggy head and studied Allerton with patient eyes. "You're making a mistake," he said. "You'll be back." The inside of the spaceship was quiet now, not with the silence of the tomb, but with the silence of barely inaudible echoes, as if Allerton might still be able to hear the crew clomping about the companionways on metal-shod feet if only he knew how to listen.

Homer was a shy Faderfield bachelor; his visitor was a beautiful Pleiades girl. At any rate, she was a girl, and Homer had a problem. The fly rod, the letter, and the small jar of paint were half of the problem Homer Hopkins had to solve. The other half rested in his complex mind. Fader's Fadeless Formulae had offered him a position, not a job, to take charge of its research department, at 10,000 a year, twice what he was paid at Faderfield Junior College to teach chemistry. All this was in the letter.

Xhanph was the fully accredited ambassador from Gfun and Earth's first visitor from outer space. History and the amenities called for a tremendous reception. But, Earth people are funny people. All the way over, all through the loneliness of the long trip, he had consoled himself with the thought of the reception he would get; how they would crowd around him, how they would gape and cheer! All the most prominent and most important Earthlings would rush to see him, to touch their own appendages to his tentacles, to receive his report of interplanetary good will.

Silvia secretly planned to divorce George when they reached Arcturus. But a space journey can alter a careful plan - or hatch a worse one. The trouble started when the Arcturus Queen was four billion miles out of Earth, heading for the star after which it was named. It pulled clear of the solar system using conventional drive, then switched into subspace. A few minutes later, the ship shuddered perceptibly, and an authoritative voice came reassuringly from the public address system.

Frane Lewis enjoyed another sadistic shiver as he moved up the narrow passageway to the captain's control room. To his flared nostrils, the warm, moist air of the small space freighter was still heavy with the smell of death. A psychiatrist could have told him that this was a neural confusion of olfactory sensation with the perverted emotional excitement of murder. But no physician ever attended Frane's murders, except at inquests.