Jack of Harts

A misspoken incantation. A miscalculated potion. A wish made in desperation, or a spell cast with too much confidence. Magic Malfunction is an anthology that explores the consequences, both comic and catastrophic, when the arcane arts—or the pacts to acquire them—go awry.

So we just got to see Tax Day. Otherwise known as Taxation is Theft day. The day by which we have to file with the government, telling them how much we think we owe them in taxes. They won’t tell us how much we owe, so we either fill it out ourselves or pay someone else to do it for us, and if we are wrong, they will send us to prison. Or maybe just shoot us with all those fancy pew pews and pew pew seeds they bought during the last administration. And what have they been doing with that money? We’ve been seeing it for the last few months. All those lovely spending sprees in other countries by U.S.A.I.D. Hunting down the political opposition and putting them in prison. Flying in as many illegal aliens as possible. Paying for hotel rooms to house the illegal aliens. There’s so much money to throw around. And all of us are paying for everything. Do you approve of what they are spending your money on? I for one do not, and I’m not afraid to say it.

I’ve been to Dairycon and returned. It’s a little gathering of friends who like Transformers the toys. I brought some of my own collection, my Jack of Harts books, a pair of Xbox 360s, and a some Hot Wheels RC cars painted up to look like Transformers. I ran Transformers shows on one Xbox, Transformers games on the other Xbox, sold enough of my collection to cover expenses, and kept many children entertained as they played with the remote control cars or the games. And that allowed the parents to go touring the show while knowing that their kids were occupied. The cars took some abuse, but they are built like tanks. It’s all cosmetic and some minor sanding and updating paint apps will make them look as good as new. The 360s lived through another year like champs before going back into their personalized protective carrier, and the Transformers and books that didn’t sell returned to their boxes for safe transport back home. A good time was had by all, and I look forward to next year. The one complaint is the Radisson we stayed at. Those beds would make for amazingly effective torture devices.